#rancher Harry styles

[jarofstyles]

Home On The Range

Home is where the heart is. That’s what they always say.

For Harry, the ranch was home. Nothing else ever felt as warm or as comfortable as the pies in the window, the sound of twangy guitars coming from outdated radios in the barn, the smell of hay. Sprawling mountains and the deep valleys, the sounds of horses running through dewy grass.

That’s what home was to him, until she walked up the dusty drive.

Howdy besties, and welcome to Home on the Range. Hope you find this cures your cravings for a ranching man!

Warnings: talk of death, grief and loss. Jealousy, slight angst, toothache worthy fluff, flannel, and a sprinkle of dirty rancher smut. A spank here and there. We are happy to answer any questions you have about our little universe and discuss it with you if you send a message in our ask box!

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings!

🐎☀️🥧🍻

1. Peach Cobbler

2. Biscuits&Gravy

3. Sweet Tea

4. Pecan Pie

5. Grits*

[londonbelow]

Honey Whiskey

a continuation of American Honey | in which Harry is a single dad/rancher and continues his secret affair with his babysitter warnings: age gap (both parties are consenting adults over the age of 21), unprotected sex, dirty talk, spitting, rough oral (m receiving), slight degradation, a hint of choking, squirting, brief mentions of body insecurities word count: 6.6k (I haven't written anything in like a month and I'm trying desperately to get out of the hole I'm in so pls stick with me through this shit ily ily ily)

The sun was burning hotter than hell. 

I felt like I was simply melting into the chair that I was lounging on, a smile tugging at my lips as I watched my best friend Kelsey play with her cousin Maisy in the water. I had been playing with her all morning and Kelsey finally arrived a few minutes ago to give me a damn break. As much as I loved that little girl, she was a ball of energy that I struggled to keep up with. Especially on days like today when the heat was insane and I was nursing a bit of a hangover. 

I slid my sunglasses over my eyes as I turned my head to look around me, searching for any sign of Harry, Maisy’s father. He asked me to come watch Maze this morning so he could get some work done around the ranch and I hadn’t seen him since I first arrived. 

Seeing him this morning was the first time since things… progressed between us.

I expected it to be awkward, but he couldn’t keep his smoldering eyes off of me and I could practically feel the desire seeping off his skin for me. 

My hand was trembling as I lifted it to knock on the front door, my heart feeling like it might pound right out of my chest. Harry and I hadn’t talked since the other night. When I got his text yesterday, I hoped it would be about seeing me again, but it was only about babysitting. He was his usual self, friendly and short, which made me feel a little confused. Was he going to just pretend that nothing happened? 

The door swung open and my eyes dropped to see Maze standing there, wearing a black bathing suit and chomping on a banana. I smiled as the little girl lit up at the sight of me, wrapping her free arm around my legs in a hug. 

“You’re here, you’re here! Daddy, she’s here!” 

“Hey my little rain cloud. You excited to go swimming?” I asked her, watching her nod and jump on the balls of her feet. 

“Excited? She hasn’t shut up about it since I told her yesterday.” Harry’s voice called out, sending a wave of joy right through my body. 

“You’re the one who hasn’t shut up about it!” Maisy called back to her father, turning her big eyes up to me in an roll, “He asked me a BILLION times to check the front window for you.” 

He walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. Our eyes met and I felt my entire body flush, heat shooting right through me as his eyes took me in slowly. He started from my feet up, drinking in every inch of exposed skin and finally landing on my eyes. He smiled, the wrinkles near his eyes getting a little more pronounced when he did. His own cheeks went slightly pink and I shivered, unable to believe I could make a man like him blush. 

“Hi.” I said softly, chewing on my bottom lip to keep the very obvious smile off my face. 

“Hey there, honey. You want some pancakes?” He asked, gesturing toward the kitchen. 

Maisy groaned at the idea of having to wait for me to eat to get into the pool and I laughed, squeezing her little hand. 

“I already ate, but thanks. I better take our little mermaid outside before she just withers away.” I looked back up at him, watching his eyes fly up to meet mine from whatever body part of mine he was ogling. 

I’d never felt so good in my own skin before. The way Harry looked at me—like he wanted to devour every inch of my body, like he wanted to consume me—it made my confidence skyrocket. I’d always felt that I was too big to attract anyone, especially after my last boyfriend, who made constant hints about me going to the gym with him. But here was Harry, the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid my eyes on… and he couldn’t keep his off me. 

“Of course. Y’all have fun. Holler if you need me.” Harry said, licking his lips as his eyes searched my own. 

Maisy tugged me hard, dragging me past him. 

“We will.” I replied, silently praying he would reach his hand out and touch me as I passed him, but he didn’t. 

I could feel his eyes on my back as I walked away though, stinging like a sunburn after a long day of baking. 

I couldn’t stop myself from craning my neck all the way around to look back at the house, desperate for any movement inside that could be Harry. Just as I was ready to slump in my chair with disappointment, he came walking around the side of the house carrying a heavy bag of what looked like soil on his shoulder. 

He was dressed in tight jeans and his usual boots, a light gray t-shirt on his body that showed off the sweat stains from how hard he’d been working. My mouth went dry at the thought of licking drops of sweat off of his chiseled body and I had to force my eyes away from him to stop myself. 

“Hey Uncle H!” Kelsey called out to him, making me wince at the reminder that this man I was infatuated with was my best friend's literal uncle. 

It’s not weird. You only met her two years ago, you’re not a lifelong friend, you didn’t grow up with this man. It’s not weird. I reassured myself silently, nodding to myself in agreement. It wasn’t weird. We met as adults. Sure, there was an age gap but it didn’t bother me. I sighed. I knew it would bother Kelsey, which is where my guilt came from. 

“Hey Kels. When did you get here?” He asked her. 

My eyes followed him from behind my sunglasses, watching as he threw the bag down to the ground, straightening back out with a quiet little groan. My pussy clenched in desire when I heard that noise and then I was stifling my own fucking moan because Harry was reaching for the hem of his sweaty t-shirt. He peeled the material from his body, exposing his glistening chest and his tight muscles, which flexed every time he moved. 

His eyes slid to me as he tucked his shirt into the back of those gloriously tight jeans, his hand reaching up to rub through his sweaty curls slowly. I watched his eyes move down over the expanse of my body, which was stretched out on a lounge chair, sweat pooling in all of my crevices from the hot sun. 

“Just got here so our girl could take a breather.” Kelsey laughed, splashing some water in my general direction. 

“Yeah, we all know what a terror Miss Maze can be.” I teased, watching the small girl giggle and stick her tongue out at me, which I gave right back to her. 

“Anyone hungry yet? I’ll go in and make some sandwiches and lemonade.” Harry offered, moving toward the sliding glass door at the back of his house. 

“Yes, please!” Maisy called out, “And Doritos!” 

“Yeah, yeah. And Doritos.” He laughed, yanking the door open and stepping into the house, but not before shooting me another look over his shoulder. 

My heart was beating so fast that I swore Kelsey and Maze would see it right through my skin. My legs ached to move, to run into the house after him and beg him to take me in the kitchen instead of making lunch. I stayed still as long as I could and then I got up off the chair. 

“I’m gonna go see if he needs help.” I called out over my shoulder as nonchalantly as I could. 

“See if you can coax him into unlocking that precious liquor cabinet of his! I want some vodka in my lemonade.” Kelsey called out, which made me pause with my hand against the door. 

The irony. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” I laughed, shaking my head and prying the door open. 

The air conditioning was on full blast and I shivered as I crossed the threshold. My nipples went hard under my thin bikini top, goosebumps rising all over my arms and chest. I suddenly realized how nearly naked I was in the bright sunny kitchen and wished I would have thrown at least my shorts on before I came inside. I didn’t understand why I picked the tiniest bikini I owned, the one that showed off all of the dimples and dips in my skin, all of my stretch marks and imperfections. 

You picked it because you thought you could seduce him, so get on it! My thoughts taunted me. I pushed them away. 

I went to the fridge, yanking the door open to search for the pitcher of lemonade. I moved some things around and got onto the tips of my toes to reach the back of the top shelf where it had been shoved. 

“Need some help?” 

I jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice, turning around to look at him, nudging the fridge shut as I did so. He was standing right behind me, so close to me that I was surprised I didn’t feel him breathing on my neck. Or hear him come in. I was too busy chastising myself for my exposed skin, the same exposed skin that his eyes were drinking in right now. 

He was still shirtless, glistening with sweat despite how freezing cold it was in here. He leaned back against the island behind him, holding a short glass with about an inch or so of amber colored liquor in it. I watched him swirl the liquid around inside the glass slowly before he lifted it to his mouth, tilting it all down his throat in one smooth go. 

“Hi.” I said softly, my voice nearly squeaking, “I thought I’d help with lunch.” 

His eyes took me in, gliding from my eyes down to my neck, to my chest, to my stomach, all the way past my thighs and to my feet. Then back up… just as slow, his gaze so hot that I swore it was burning every inch of my skin that it covered. 

“What are you drinking?” I asked, desperate to fill the silence.

“Honey whiskey.” He smirked at me, letting his eyes graze lower as he continued, “You know how I love all things honey flavored.” 

I blushed something fierce, trying to keep my smile as demure as possible as I discreetly positioned the pitcher of lemonade in front of my stomach. Harry’s hand shot out, fingers pressing to it so he could shove it back out of the way, exposing my body to him. 

“Sweetheart… you’re being cruel.” He whispered, smiling slowly as he put the glass down behind him. 

“Cruel?” I frowned at him, my eyebrows furrowing. 

He pushed off the kitchen island, stepping toward me, forcing me to crane my head back to look up at him. I was frozen like a deer in headlights. All I could do was stumble backwards away from him, but I hit the counter behind me with nowhere to go. He took the pitcher of lemonade from my hands and put it down for me. 

“I’ve seen you in my pool a hundred times,” He spoke quietly, his arms going to either side of me, locking me in against the counter, “And I’ve never seen you wearing a bikini this small before. Now why’s that?” 

“Um,” I swallowed, shrugging, “Maybe it shrank.” 

“Or maybe you picked it out knowing that I wouldn’t be able to keep my fuckin’ hands to myself when I saw you in it.” He said, leaning in so close to me that I could feel each word as he breathed them onto my mouth. 

“You haven’t touched me yet, so I’d say you—” 

His mouth crashed down against mine, hands sliding off the counter to wrap around my waist instead. I could taste the honey whiskey on his mouth. He was hot, so hot, his skin and his mouth and his tongue all feeling like they could burn me. I plunged my hands into his sweaty curls, tugging at them, rubbing my body up against his like a cat in heat. 

He moaned against me, his hands slipping down to grasp at every inch of flesh that he could get at. He squeezed at my hips, at the rolls at my sides, at the plump curve of my ass. He pulled me against him so hard that I thought I’d mold into him. 

“Harry…” I gasped out as his lips trailed down to my neck, his scruff rough against my delicate skin, “Please…” 

“You wore this just to tease me, didn’t you?” He growled out, lifting a hand up to grasp my jaw tightly, prying my mouth open when he did. He popped his thumb into my mouth and I groaned as I sucked on it happily. 

His free hand went to my bikini top, yanking the thin material away from my breasts to expose them to the cold air and his warm mouth. He moaned as he swirled his tongue around one of my hardened nipples, his teeth scraping softly around the sensitive skin. I gasped, my hips jutting forward to seek out some sort of friction from him. 

“Mmm… you taste so good.” He whispered into my skin, slipping his thumb from my mouth so he could slide his hands down to my outer thighs. 

I gasped loudly as he shoved me up onto the counter, spreading my thighs and pressing himself between them. The rough material of his jeans over his hard cock rubbed all over my pussy, making me moan at the friction. He bit down lightly on my sensitive nipple, dragging his hands up over my sides as he found my lips again. I panted into his mouth, eyes fluttering open to find his own staring back at me darkly. 

“What am I doing?” He whispered, almost to himself as he slid his hands up my chest to my neck, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

He said the words but his mouth found mine right after, his tongue slick against my own, his hands exploring my body. They went to my hips, pulling at me until my ass was on the edge of the counter. I was desperate for pleasure, rubbing my cunt all over him, grinding against his hard bulge. His fingers gripped at my thighs hard enough to bruise them and I realized that he was matching my movements, just as desperate as I was. 

He was panting, shaking his head, but his mouth was still against mine as he murmured, “You’re too young for me.” 

“I’m just right for you.” I whispered back, nipping at his bottom lip, watching his mouth fall open, “I’m perfect for you.” 

I kissed him again, sliding my tongue against his in a sloppy manner, trembling at the feeling of his hands as they slid to my arms. He squeezed tight and I worried he would push me back, worried that he would stop this. He looked down at me, his eyes heavily-lidded, like he was drunk. I knew he wasn’t, he was just so aroused that he could barely think straight. I knew it because I felt the same. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He whispered, shaking his head slightly before he pulled me back to his mouth. 

I moaned as he dropped his hands back down to my thighs, accepting defeat. I squealed in surprise when he lifted me off the counter like I weighed nothing, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist tightly. I wanted to throw him down on the kitchen floor and ride him right here, but I knew he was taking me somewhere more private. We couldn’t risk being caught. 

He carried me into his home office, kicking the door shut behind him quickly. He gripped my waist with one arm as his other one swiped over his desk, shoving anything in his way onto the floor as he sat me down on the edge of it. He yanked his t-shirt out of his pocket and tossed it on the floor as he plopped down into his large leather chair. Our eyes met as he patted his hand against his thigh very lightly. 

“Get in my lap.” He breathed out, “You wanna be good for me? C’mere. Get in my lap, sweetheart.” 

I nodded eagerly, shifting down into his lap. I straddled him in the chair, my inner thighs squeezing him tightly as I rocked my hips down hard until I felt his cock pressing up against my pussy. I moaned against him at the feeling of him—rock hard under his tight jeans, the friction against my clit sending waves of warmth through my stomach. 

“That’s it.” He encouraged me, trailing his mouth away from my own so he could move it down over my neck. He bit the sensitive skin there, sucking it into his mouth until I was sure a red hickey would form. I didn’t know how I’d explain that. I didn’t care to think of it. It felt too good. 

I slid my hand up to his throat and pushed him back from my body by it, feeling braver by the second. Our eyes met, his lips swollen from our kisses, open and panting for more. I rolled my hips forward again, watching his eyes squeeze shut at the way I felt against his cock. 

“Look at me. Tell me you want me.” I whispered, not a beg or a plea but an order, “Tell me how bad you want my pussy… look at how you’re trembling for it.” 

“Fuck,” His hands tightened around my hips, yanking me down even harder into his lap as he jerked his body up to meet it, “I want you, I fucking need your pussy… need that wet, tight pussy gripping my cock. Need to see it, let me…” 

He urged me backwards to lean against the edge of his desk, the wood sharp against my spine. I didn’t care. I would have twisted my body into unimaginable positions to give him whatever he wanted. He looked down at my pussy, covered by my small bikini bottoms. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous...” He whispered, rubbing his fingers down over my slit. I wished he would rip them right off my body and feel my bare cunt. 

As if he read my mind, he began to tug at the strings that held my bottoms together, his eyes flashing up to mine. I kept my eyes on his, swallowing hard as he unwrapped my pussy like it was a gift. The bottoms fell away from my body and onto the floor, his eyes turning down to look at me as soon as I was bare. 

“Honey,” He breathed out, two of his fingers swiping up along my wet slit, shaking his head slightly, “Look how wet you are. You want me this bad? S’fucking pathetic for me, aren’t you?”

He watched my reaction as he showed me his fingers, glistening with my arousal. He offered them to me and I wrapped my lips around them, tasting myself on his skin. I swirled my tongue around his fingers, lapping at them desperately, watching his eyes glisten at me. 

“Such a good girl.” He murmured, pulling his fingers back, grasping onto my thighs tightly to yank me back into his lap. 

I snuggled down against him, grinding my pussy all over his lap. My eyes fluttered up at the feeling of his hard cock under me, so rock solid for me. 

He squeezed my cheeks to force my lips open so he could fuck his tongue into my mouth, moaning as he tasted me. I couldn’t believe how much I was aching from his kisses alone, I was never one to enjoy a sloppy or wet kiss but his were so fucking desperate. It was like he needed to fuck every hole on my body with his tongue, like he had to lick every inch of my mouth and taste every crevice of me before he was satisfied. I’d never felt that desire from anyone and I couldn’t stop shaking from the way it made me feel. 

Harry pulled away from the kiss slightly, but I yanked him right back, tasting him the way he just did to me. 

“Spit in my mouth.” I whispered against his lips, half-opening my hazy eyes as I repeated myself, “Spit in my mouth.” 

His eyes sparkled, “You wanna taste me? Open.” 

I gladly did, extending my tongue to him, watching his own as it worked behind his closed lips. His hold on my face turned softer, almost tender as he let his spit slowly dribble down onto my waiting tongue. He wrapped his lips around it right after, sucking on it and pressing his own tongue into my mouth. His free hand grabbed onto my cheeks and made me look down at his lap, squeezing my face tightly. 

“Look at the way you’re dripping all over my jeans. Should make you get on your fuckin’ knees and lick it off.” He said, to which I let out a whine and began to nod as much as I could, “Yes? You want to? Use your words, sweetheart.” 

He didn’t release my face, he squeezed it harder as he pulled me close to him, his eyes dark as they flickered over me. 

“I want to! Please, let me clean it for you. Let me taste you.” I begged him, my fingers desperately reaching under my body for his zipper. 

“On your knees.” He ordered me, his strong hands back to gripping my arms as he guided me off his desk and onto the floor in front of him. He gestured to the wet spot I left against the crotch in his jeans and my face went up in flames. 

“Lick it.” He whispered, reaching over to curl his fingers into my hair, pulling my head down, “Taste your cunt all over my jeans like a good girl.” 

My eyes flashed up to look at him as I carefully slid my tongue along the wet spot in his crotch. He shivered at the sight, shaking his head slightly as I continued to lick across my arousal. The taste of myself mixed with the material of his jeans was sharp, I was surprised and a little embarrassed at how well I could actually taste myself there. I really was dripping for him. 

My thighs rubbed together desperately trying to get any friction I could. I was so wet that I was dripping down my thighs and I couldn’t stand another moment of not having his cock in my mouth. 

“Need your cock.” I mumbled, looking up at him with pleading eyes. I flattened my tongue along the outline of his hard length through his jeans, feeling his fingers tighten in my hair, “Please, Harry… please, let me make you feel good.” 

A strangled sound escaped his mouth as he nodded at me almost violently, his fingers flying down to undo his pants. I thought I would have liked for him to tug those tight jeans down so I could see his thighs, but he didn’t. He only reached in and pulled his hard cock out for me. Something about only being able to see his dripping cock exposed made it feel inherently dirtier, made my entire body buzz with a thrill. 

His cock was perfect to me. Not too long, perfectly thick, the head of it flushed dark pink and dripping with precum for me. Thick veins protruded from the sides and throbbed along with his pulse. Harry wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and brought it up in one slow stroke. My mouth watered when more precum dripped out for me, his thumb pressing over his slit so he could spread it around the head. 

“Give me that tongue.” He whispered, guiding my face down to his lap as I bared my tongue to him. He tapped the head of his cock against it, letting me taste the slightly salty drops of his arousal. He gasped softly as he did this a few more times and then he pressed his cock into my mouth. 

I moaned when I finally tasted him fully, swirling my tongue around the head excitedly, lapping up every drop of him. He tangled his fingers into my hair, urging my face down gently, like he was testing me to see if I could take more. I could. I slid my mouth down until I met his hand which was still wrapped around the base. I pulled back until my lips popped off him and I spit onto his cock, watching my saliva slowly drip down to his fist. 

“Fuck. Fuck, baby…” He gasped out, sliding his hand up over his shaft once again, helping to spread my spit all over it, “You’re such a filthy little thing, aren’t you?” 

I smiled as I slid my mouth back down around his cock, urging his hand to move away so I could take him all the way. He pressed into my throat, feeling the resistance, but I forced past it until I could feel his cock at the back of it. I held him there for a moment, held him there until he started to jerk his hips up, clearly needing to fuck something. I nodded around him and his hands were suddenly on either side of my head and he began to roughly fuck up into my face, slamming me down onto his cock over and over. 

“God!” He cried out, pulling my mouth off of him as quickly as he started. I was panting heavily and drooling, dumb for his cock. He held me very still as he looked away from me, trying his hardest to hold his orgasm back. 

I let out a whine, my hands going down to slip between my thighs so I could touch my aching clit finally. He stopped me before I could even get near my cunt. He reached for me, pulling me back until I was sitting on the edge of his desk once again. He stood in front of me, angling himself between my spread legs. 

Harry trailed his large hand down over my chest, yanking my bikini top down once more to expose my breasts. He pinched each of my nipples and then his head dove forward so he could wrap his lips around them, sucking them hard. His teeth grazed over my sensitive skin and I nearly screamed at the pleasure I was feeling. 

“Harry, please!” I cried out, my hips rolling against nothing, seeking some sort of pleasure out. I was humping the air, that’s how desperate I had become for him. 

“How wet are you for me now? Show me.” He whispered, his voice so calm despite the way he was shaking as he pulled back from his assault on my breasts. “Spread those fucking legs… oh, honey… fuck.” 

I leaned back on my elbows, spreading my thighs as wide as I could to show off my glistening cunt. His hand moved to begin stroking his cock again as he looked down at me. His eyes were heavy-lidded and black with lust, his pupils so blown out that all the green had disappeared. 

“Touch yourself.” He said, biting down on his bottom lip to stifle a moan as I obeyed, my fingers slipping down to my cunt. 

I scissored my fingers in a V shape, spreading my swollen lips open so he could see how absolutely dripping I was before I slid those fingers down to thrust them inside of myself. 

I was so drunk with lust and the need to come that I couldn’t even focus on putting on a show for him the way I would have liked. I could only press my fingers into my slippery cunt and feel how soaking wet I was as I pressed the heel of my palm into my clit. I began to shake at the pleasure that rolled through me, the only sounds being of our heavy panting and my wet pussy gushing as I fucked myself with my fingers. 

Harry couldn’t look away from me, but he was shaking his head, like he was fighting some inner demons about what we were doing here in his office with his family right outside. 

“Fuck it. I’m going to hell anyways.” He breathed out, and then he was wrapping his hand around my wrist and yanking me forward by it. 

He brought my fingers up to his mouth, shiny with my arousal, and I watched him guide my fingertips over his lips slowly. I could feel his cock pressing against my entrance below us and I quickly adjusted myself a little to give him easier access. Neither of us moved for a moment, both knowing that we shouldn’t be doing this but unable to stop ourselves. 

I made the first move this time. I pushed my fingers into his mouth at the same time that his cock sank slowly into my tight cunt. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he sucked at my fingers in a greedy manner, his hands moving to grip at my waist. I knew there would be bruises on my hips tomorrow in the shapes of his fingers, but I didn’t care. I wanted a reminder of him. 

His hands gripped onto me tightly and he didn’t let me do any work. He just held me still while he thrusted forward into my cunt roughly, causing me to cry out in pleasure. He dropped his forehead against mine, his eyes flashing down to meet mine. 

“Do I taste good?” I asked him as I slid my wet fingers out of his mouth, moving them to grip his jaw in my hand, “Let me taste.” 

It was his turn to offer his tongue to me and I slid my own against it, slipping it around in a swirling motion as I pressed it back into his mouth. I could taste my cunt there, the musky, feminine taste of my arousal so familiar to me. I moaned into him as my tongue went wild, licking at every crevice of his mouth. He began to fuck me even harder, his cock stretching me open and making me feel like I was being split into two.

I had to pull back from the kiss to moan and cry out, my hands reaching out for something to steady myself on. One hand wrapped around the edge of his desk, the other tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Harder… make it hurt…” I whimpered out loudly, “Fuck!” 

“Shh.” He slammed his hand over my mouth, “Quiet for me, baby. Quiet. Can’t let anyone know what a delicious little fucktoy I have in here. Mine, mine, mine…” 

I whined into his palm, nodding my head vigorously. Yes, I was his. I was his this whole time. I’d be his forever if he wanted me that long. I tried to move, tried to match his thrusts, but he wouldn’t let me. He was in control of my body, he owned it, he was going to use me like a toy. Fucktoy, he called me. I enjoyed it more than I ever imagined I would. 

“You’re perfect, so perfect… your cunt is a fuckin’ dream.” He panted out, slamming his body into me harder and harder, “Touch yourself. I want you to feel you come around my cock.” 

I gripped onto his shoulder with one hand to steady myself as I slid the other between my thighs. He cursed softly as I started to rub my clit in quick circles. I moaned against his palm, feeling myself start to drool from how fucked out I was. 

I was weak, his cock slamming into me hurt so good and I couldn’t keep holding myself up. I fell back against the desk, his hand falling from my mouth as I did. The new angle made his cock press right up against my g-spot and I couldn’t stop the sob from escaping my mouth at how deliciously good it felt. 

“My little crybaby slut, shh…” Harry murmured to me, reaching a hand down to wipe my tears, “I know it feels so fucking good, honey… I know. You’re doing so good for me. Taking every inch of my cock… fuck, you feel incredible.” 

“I’m gonna come,” I whimpered out, “can’t hold it…” 

“Just a little longer, just a…” He gasped out, “Tell me… tell me how bad you want me…” 

I whined, feeling my stomach tighten up as my orgasm built faster and faster, “So fucking bad… I touch myself every night thinking about you. Dream about the way your cock felt inside of me, splitting me open l-like… like it is right now, fuck! Harry, please, please let me come, I’ll be so good for you…” 

Harry’s eyes flashed and his thrusts became that of an animalistic nature, like he had snapped and lost all grip on reality, “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock.” 

His thrusts were so feral that his desk actually moved, it rocked back a foot or so with force. I couldn’t stop to focus on it as my orgasm finally hit its peak and washed over me. My vision blurred and blackened as I came harder than I ever thought was possible, so hard that I felt as if I were seeing stars. I was shaking viciously as my cunt gushed once again, this time wetting his bare chest and his jeans much more than it did the last time. 

“Oh god,” He moaned at the sight, reaching his hand between us so he could start to rub my clit in quick, harsh circles, “Give me one more.” 

“I… I can’t…” I gasped out, shaking my head, but I was lying. I could. I could feel it start to build as soon as he touched my clit, but I was so sensitive that it almost hurt. 

“You can and you will.” He ordered me, his hand moving faster, pressing down hard, “C’mon, princess. Come for me, show me how good you can be.” 

“Fuck!” I cried out, my eyes flashing open to look down as I came once more, his hand working quick circles through my entire second orgasm. 

I had to reach down to wrap my hand around his wrist and stop him, holding him still as I twitched and squirted a little more. He thrusted into me only a few more times, his mouth claiming my own so I would muffle the sound of his moaning. He was so vocal, all slow moans and heavy breaths as he came hard. His hands slid over the sides of my body, groping at my sweaty skin as he pulled me into a sitting position. Our bare chests pressed together as his tongue massaged mine. 

My legs were trembling as I dropped them from where they were locked around his waist. His large hands moved over my shoulders and down my back, feeling over my spine. I didn’t ever want to stop kissing him. It made my entire body feel alive. I clung to him a little tighter, wishing I could rewind and relive this moment again and again and again. 

Harry held my face in his hands as he pulled back to look at me, running his thumbs across the apples of my cheeks.

“You’re all burnt.” He smiled, his voice low, “Didn’t your parents ever tell you to wear sunscreen?��� 

“No. You wanna play daddy and teach me?” I lifted an eyebrow to him, tilting my face further into his palm. 

“Don’t be bad now.” He shook his head, smiling brighter and lowering his lips to mine, “Not after showing me how good you are…” 

He kissed me a moment longer before pulling back, reaching out a hand to pull a handful of tissues from the box that thankfully hadn’t been pushed onto the ground in our passionate state. He breathed out a quiet sigh as he pulled out of me, pressing the tissues against me to stop the spill of his semen from dripping out. 

I eyed him as he straightened himself out, zipping up his jeans as he reached down for my bikini bottoms from the floor. He examined them, looking confused by the many strings, as if he intended to figure them out and dress me himself. I shot him a gentle smile as I took them from him to do it on my own. 

“So…” He started to say, his heavy gaze on me as I pulled my bikini back into place, tightening the strings and adjusting my top. 

“So…” I repeated, giving him a look, watching him rub a hand over his face with a soft curse. 

“Are you…” He broke off, his hand working to the back of his neck as he looked at me sheepishly, “Are you seeing anyone right now?” 

“Hmm?” I cocked my head in confusion, “Like dating? No… nope. Not dating anyone.” 

“You’re not going out with that Jace Matthews kid?” He asked, a skeptical look on his face. 

“Jace?” I blurted out, my face heating, “No. I mean… no, we just fooled around a little.” 

Harry’s face hardened, his voice dark, “Last night?” 

“No!” My eyebrows knitted together. 

“Sam mentioned he saw you out with him last night… I just assumed.” He shrugged a shoulder, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. 

Sam Davis. One of Harry’s closest friends and probably the only person who knows how he actually feels about me. Maze told me how she overheard the two of them talking about my ‘honey’ and she thankfully confused it with me keeping bees. I didn’t know how I was going to produce a beehive for her if she ever actually insisted on seeing them. 

“Oh.” I straightened up, a lightbulb going off in my head. He was jealous. I relaxed with a soft smile, “God, no. Jace is old news, we just have some mutual friends now. I haven’t… there isn’t anyone else but you.” 

“Good.” He whispered to me, leaning up against the door behind him, his eyes flickering over my face. 

My face went up in flames again. I was grateful for the sunburn on my cheeks, praying that it was helping to disguise how often this man seemed to make me blush. He had a real talent for it. 

“What about you and that vet? Isobel, right?” I asked him, remembering the amount of times I watched in envy as he flirted with the pretty veterinarian who came to take care of his horses. 

His eyes narrowed slightly as he shook his head, “We had some sparks at one point, I guess. But not now. Not anymore.” 

He reached behind his body and popped the door open, pushing it out so I could pass him and head back to the kitchen. We’d been gone so long that Maze and Kelsey would certainly expect a gourmet lunch instead of sandwiches and Doritos. I hoped she wouldn’t question me about it later. 

“And what about me?” I asked him as I stepped forward, getting closer to him, “Do you feel sparks with me?” 

We stared at one another for a long, intense moment. He shifted forward, pressing his body against mine, trapping me between him and the door frame. His arms slid easily around my waist and his eyes were smoldering as they met my own. I thought he might kiss me again and send us both into another sexual frenzy, but he just leaned in close. He lightly glided the tip of his nose along the side of my face, inhaling my scent. 

“Not sparks, honey.” Harry murmured, his lips brushing over my cheek and toward my ear, “Wildfires.” 

[britswriting]

Fallen For You H.S | AU - Seven

Fallen For You Masterlist - find description here

Read on Wattpad

Rancher!Harry x Plus-sized!OC

🦋Delaney🦋

I was pleasantly surprised when the weekend went by without a hitch, and I knew that was all thanks to Harry; whether he wanted to hear it or not, we wouldn't have survived without his help.

I walked into the barn where Harry and my dad were working surprisingly well together only to see my dad in there alone.

"Hey" I announced my presence, my dad appearing to be cleaning one of the stables.

"Good morning, Lane" Dad replied back, not bothering to turn and look at me.

"Hey, uh.. where's Harry?" 

"He left this morning. He had something to do, he'll be back tomorrow morning" Dad replied, shuffling something around in the stable before the sound of a broom brushing against the floor was heard again.

The past few weeks, every Sunday Harry has disappeared and came back Monday morning getting straight to work.

I knew he had asked for at least one day off, which is completely fine and makes total sense. Everyone deserves a break, I just didn't expect him to be gone overnight for his break.

My brain couldn't help but spiral.

Was he seeing someone? Was he at his girlfriend's house? Did he have a whole other family? Did he have his own place? His own things? His own food? It would make sense why he was so weird about us buying him groceries, but how could he just leave that all for a week without so much as uttering a word to us?

Monday morning I argued with myself in the bathroom mirror over the fact that I willingly woke up early to get dressed for a man who seems to not give a fuck about me.

I mean honestly, who gets up before the sun just to curl their hair and apply makeup and make sure their outfit looks cute just for a guy! 

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

I ran my hands through my dark loosely curled hair, my fingers separating some of the curls, applying another layer of mascara; double checking that I didn't have lipstick on my teeth before pulling my jean shorts up a bit more on my waist.

I stared into my brown eyes in the mirror, looking at myself completely done up for a man who could have an entire family somewhere else in this world that he left every Sunday to see.

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

My eyes began to burn as they started to blur; my quick blinking to prevent tears from falling wasn't working as they began to free fall down my artificially blushed cheeks, wrecking my still wet, fresh, mascara.

You're so fucking stupid, Delaney! 

My shoulders slumped as I pulled open a drawer, yanking out a makeup wipe and proceeded to start wiping off all my effort.

First went the lipstick.

This was so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did I do this?

Then the foundation.

I could've been asleep this entire time! 

Then the eyebrows followed by the mascara.

He's not even going to fucking care, nor notice! I not only wasted makeup, but my time and effort! All of this shit could've gone towards a job interview! A family reunion! A date for god sake! 

I stared at my bright red, assaulted, skin; dark mascara still under my eye, smears of lipstick left behind, telling me I needed another makeup wipe.

My eyes burned as the tears settled in my waterline.

I looked date ready, and maybe that's what hurt? Knowing I looked date ready for a man who would never want to date me.

I washed my face with water and a cleanser before grabbing a hair tie and throwing my hair up into a now high, loosely curled ponytail.

I leaned back against the wall, my dark circles from lack of sleep, and the mascara residue staring me in the face.

Pulling off my expensive plain white shirt that had pretty lace detailing on the cuffs of my sleeves left me in a white, lacey bra; I groaned.

This was so fucking stupid.

Unclipping the fancy bra, I tossed it to the ground, ignoring the way my boobs fell and weighed down my chest as I entered my bedroom, grabbing a simple nude, plain bra and a loose t-shirt.

Stupid stupid stupid Delaney! 

I wiggled out of my stupid skin tight shorts, grabbing some loose, easy to move in jeans that had wide, baggy hole's in the knees.

The sun was starting to rise, and I knew Harry would already be out this morning taking care of the animals and I felt like I was going to be sick.

I just wasted two hours on a man just to wipe it all off because of my stupid impulsive decisions! I could've just left it all on, said fuck him, and felt good about myself all day, but nooooo, I got insecure and wiped it all off and wasted it! I didn't even take a fucking picture!

Stupid stupid Delaney! 

I ran my hands over my face, a strangled noise coming from my throat before I took a deep breath, grabbing my phone ready to hopefully get through today.

All day I avoided Harry the best I could. 

I couldn't face the fact of what I had done this morning, knowing damn well this man didn't want me. Along with the fact that he could have an entirely different family and I refuse to be a homewrecker! Or.. or.. or.. I don't know! Anything that will paint me in a bad light! I didn't need the drama. 

I got home from the market, my dad having called me asking me for help in the barn.

Walking in, Sassy trailing behind me like she owned the damn place, loudly meowing for attention; my father happily scooping her up and saying hello.

Spoiled brat.

My dad informed me that the horses needed their trail ride today before leaving Harry and I alone in the barn.

I stared at Harry's back, knowing I had to ask him for help, but deeply regretting ever needing him to begin with.

At least I wasn't wearing a lacy shirt, red lipstick and a probably crooked liner.

"Uh, hey.. how's it going?" I asked him, Harry bent over pulling bags of horse grain from a crate, placing it on the floor.

"Fine" he gruffly replied,  pulling another large bag of grain out of the crate, tossing it next to the other two.

I nodded — even though he couldn't see me, trying to think quick on my feet to not let what now felt like awkward silence, at least to me, linger longer than necessary.

"Are you busy?" I stupidly asked, regretting it immediately.

"Yes" he replied instantly, my head falling back on my shoulders as my eyes closed.

Of course he's fucking busy Delaney! He's literally doing a task right now!

"I uh.. are you able to help me with the horses?" I quickly spit out, "My dad has to go back to the Rickman's" Harry froze, his muscles visibly tensing, "And the horses need to go on their trail ride, I just.. normally Morgan, or Wrenlynn help me, but uh.. well" I stumbled, my anxious racing thoughts no long becoming coherent in my brain.

"I don't ride horses" He firmly replied, grunting as he picked up one of the horse feed bags, his boots thudding against the concrete as he walked over to the ladder, impressively, yet scaring the shit out of me, climbing it with one hand as the other held the feed.

I watched intently, afraid of him acting all macho and then falling off and busting his skull open.

I couldn't help myself but call out, "But you're a rancher?" knowing damn well I should've left it alone, but I was confused by how someone who works on a farm doesn't ride horses?

Harry didn't reply, in fact, it seemed as if he was ignoring my entire existence, shuffling around stuff on the loft, "Harry?" I called out again, standing far enough away that I could watch him moving the bags of grain around, acting like it was as easy as tossing a throw blanket into a ball on the floor. I sighed, "Harry, how can you not ride horses? You're a rancher" I stated the obvious again, wishing this man would open up more so I could simply understand his stiff and stern reactions. "Look, I wouldn't have asked if I knew it was a firm no; it's just we need to do it, and everyone else is busy, and it's a lot to do by myself. I was just asking for help is all, but if you can't, or don't want to, fine" I turned on my heel, walking towards Baylor, my all black Shire horse, grabbing my brush to clean his coat before braiding his mane, wanting to prevent tangles and matting whilst we worked when I heard Harry say directly behind me, "Can't you wait for your father to be back?" making me jump due to the close proximity.

"He's booked solid helping the town, Harry. It's fine, it'll just take me longer" I replied, running my hand down Baylor's side.

I grabbed my step stool, taking the two steps up before draping a blanket over his back, fitting the saddle over the blanket. I made sure nothing was too tight or too lose, and that the blanket was lose yet snug in all the right areas. Grabbing my lead, I begun to lead Baylor out of the stables, hoisting myself up and over when Harry asked, "This is your horse?"

"This is my baby—" 

"Baby nothing. That horse is bigger than you are!" He declared, my brow furrowing. 

"That's the point" 

"What?" 

"That's the point. A big girl needs a big horse. I like that he's big. I like that I feel safe and secure on him, even at my height and weight. He's a gentle giant" 

Harry appeared perplexed before shaking his head followed by saying, "My job is to help you, but I don't ride horses"

"May I ask why?"

"No" he replied instantly, my body stilling like someone had dumped cold water over my head.

 Oh.

Why?

"Alright well, I need to get started. If you need anything.... I'm sure you can find someone" I unintentionally huffed, giving Baylor his command to start walking down the driveway.

I got halfway down the road when a loud, "FINE! I'LL HELP!" made my head turn over my shoulder, Harry standing a good fifty, sixty feet from me with his arms crossed over his chest just staring at my horse's butt.

I stopped Baylor, getting us to turn around and face Harry, calling back, "NO ONE IS FORCING YOU!" my hand running down Baylor's neck.

"DO YOU WANT MY HELP OR NOT?!"

Baylor and I got back to barn after Harry just stared at us; Harry watching me slide down my horse, tying him to the barn post so I could grab the horse Harry would use, "So what changed your mind?" I asked, clearly having a death wish, silently praying he didn't decide then and there to leave me yet again in the dust.

"It's my job to help you" 

Ah. Yes. He's here because he has to be.

"Alright well, this is Tina" I showed Harry our Morgan horse, Harry scowling.

"I'm aware of your horses, Delaney"

"I know. This is your horse today. You said you don't ride horses, and she's really good for beginners" I ran my hand down her neck before starting to saddle her.

"Who names their horse Tina?"

"Don't disrespect Tina" I warned, "And Wren did"

"Of course she did" he scoffed, arms laid over one another across his chest.

I moved my mouth closer to Tina's ear, whispering, "Don't listen to him" 

I could practically feel Harry's nerves seeping out of him as I grabbed his protective gear.

I held out a helmet for him, Harry just starting at it before slowly taking it and placing it on his head. He clipped the buckle under his chin and I grinned.

"I look stupid, don't I" he stated, rather than asked, huffing slightly as my grin widened.

"You look great" I laughed, his eyes rolling. "Have you ever ridden a horse?" I asked, Harry nodding, staring at Tina like she was some alien. "When's the last time you rode a horse?" my curiosity piqued, the senseful part of my brain ignoring the blaring alarms telling me to shut up and leave him alone and just be thankful he is actually helping me.

Instead of replying, he asked, "Won't I break her?" making me snicker, shaking my head.

"Nope"

"But your horse is ginormous?" He frowned, tugging at my heartstrings as he appeared like a little boy afraid to learn to ride a bike.

"Shouldn't that make you more afraid?" I asked, Harry's head snapping over to look at me.

"I'm not afraid" he stated, sounding offended that I would even utter such thing.

Yeah, okay.

Tina was saddled up, and I led her out of the barn, handing her off to Harry before hopping up onto Baylor, waiting for Harry to do the same.

I watched Harry stand still, staring at Tina, his eyes closing for a moment before watching him take a deep breath.

Oh. This is more serious than I thought.

I watched as he hoisted himself up onto the horse; I could practically see him shaking in his boots from here.

I started to lead Baylor back down the driveway, assuming that once we got going Harry would be fine. I poked my head back around my shoulder, Harry still just sat on Tina by the barn.

"Come on slowpoke!" I called out, teasing.

I continued down the driveway, stopping to wait for Harry, only to see he was still by the barn.

I went back to the barn, hoping off Baylor and tying him to the barn again then walking over to Harry, smiling. 

"Hi" I grinned, Harry's eyes narrowed at me, "Need help?" I asked, not able to wipe the smug smile off my face. "Haven't ridden a horse before?" I asked, my tone slightly teasing, "Hm, figured you would've since you're a rancher and all" I giggled, rubbing my hand down the top of Tina's nose.

Harry's nostrils flare as he goes to get off, confusing Delaney

"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning.

"I'm not going"

"Why?"

"You're making fun of me. I have better shit to do anyway" He huffed, getting off the horse, beginning to walk away.

 I knew I was teasing him, but it was all in good fun! I didn't think he'd actually get upset! 

"I'm only making fun of you a little!" I call after him, snickering as my fingers pinched together, referencing my words. "I'll help you! Come back, please! I really need to get the horses out" I begged, guilt consuming me at the idea of having upset him. "Harry! I'm sorry!" I called after him, quickly jogging to him, my hand reaching out for his arm.

My fingers grasped his bicep, surprised by how warm his skin was, Harry still walking, ignoring my attempts at stopping his strides.

"Harry! Please!" 

"I offered to help you, and you made fun of me"

"I know, I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd actually get upset!" 

He turned quickly on his heel, facing me as I halted to a spot, "Why wouldn't I? I don't ride horses for a good reason and you made fun of me! Do you know how sick and twisted that is, Delaney?"

"But.. but I didn't mean to hurt you! I just.. you're a rancher Harry and you don't ride horses! It's a little comical. I'm sorry, please" I begged, "If I knew how serious it was, I wouldn't have done that, I promise!" I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as desperation crawled out of me, wishing I could take back everything.

"I don't appreciate being made fun of" He said, turning around, back enroute to his house.

"I'm sorry! Harry, please, stop!" I cried out, tired of chasing this man all over the ranch. "You know what? Fine! Pout! I didn't know it was this serious!" I yelled, my frustration staring to bubble over, "You know, maybe I wouldn't have made fun of you if you would've just been honest with me in the first place instead of keeping everything locked away! God, I try and I try and you just.. you just.. you ignore me! And you know what? Maybe that's my fucking fault for caring and shit, but YOU'RE A GROWN ASS MAN! Act like it!" I yelled, feeling eyes surround me.

My chest was moving rapidly and I quickly moved my head to see that all the animals were looking at me.

Great.

I ran back to Baylor and Tina, grabbing Tina and leading her back into the barn to take all her stuff off until I was ready for her again, tears flowing freely down my cheeks as I choked on a sob or two.

This day has been a disaster from start to finish, and I was sick and tired of it.

I was tired of constantly walking on eggshells, feeling like I can't freely express myself down to just making a joke. If he would've told me how serious it was, I would've taken him more seriously! Just telling someone "I don't ride horses" when you're a rancher sounds stupid! Why wouldn't I have thought he was just being an asshole to be an asshole? Somehow me reading him wrong has me crying yet again like it's my fault! If he would've just been honest I would've helped him.

I wiped at my face, pulling myself together before getting back on Baylor, very much so needing this trail ride for my own mental health rather than just exercising the horse.

"Delaney" Harry's rough, flat voice said, my head dropping low.

"What, Harry?"

"I apologize for not being honest with you." He said, getting my head to lift, turning to face him. "I don't ride horses anymore" He emphasized.

"Let me guess, I can't ask why" I huffed, tired of the back and forth.

His head shook, "I'd rather not talk about it, no" 

"Okay, well. Thanks for apologizing, I guess"

I commanded Baylor to start walking when Harry stopped me again.

I groaned, stopping Baylor.

"You know Harry, I could've been done already. If you don't want to help, you could've just told me. I need to get this done. I have a lot of stuff to do today. I asked for your help because I figured you'd actually be helpful" I huffed.

I swear he flinched, his jaw clenching as he nodded.

"Sorry for disappointing you then" His voice was monotonous with a hint of sarcasm and... disappointment? 

Shit.

"That's not what I meant" I groaned, my entire body wanting to just crumple into a ball on the floor.

"No, Delaney. It's exactly what you meant" He glared.

"No it's not—" I quickly defended, wishing I could just shut up and let him be mad at me; it would be a hell of a lot easier than bickering with him.

"Sounded pretty fucking crystal clear to me" He interrupted, frustrating me further.

"Goddammit Harry, will you just shut up for two seconds! That's not what I meant! I'm tired, I'm frustrated, and I have a lot to do! I swear I can't say anything without you getting mad at me and it's tiring!"

"You asked me for help!" His voice raised, nostrils flaring slightly before he took a deep breath, rolling back his shoulders, his Adam's apple visibly bouncing as he swallowed.

"I thought you'd be helpful!"

"I'm trying!"

"How?! You stop me every time I try to make progress!"

"I haven't ridden a horse in almost two decades, Delaney! I want to help you, I just don't remember how exactly" He grumbled, his hand moving up to brush against the tip of his nose before falling to his side and pulling at the end of shirt, attempting to straighten it out more, followed by running his hands through his hair, a few pieces falling down against his forehead.

"You could've just said that, you know. I would've helped and we could've avoided this entire song and dance you like to put us through" I huffed yet again, wishing I could strangle and kiss him all at the same time.

"My job is to help you. My job is to do what I'm asked. I.." he paused, chewing on his lip for a second, his eyes narrowing, "I can't do my job, when I don't know the task"

My head tilted, "Why do you view everything as a task?" I asked, brow furrowing as I licked my lips, rolling them.

"You assigned me the task"

"No," My head shook, "I asked for help" 

"Same thing"

"No Harry, it isn't. We're doing the task together. I just.. I don't understand why everything feels like a game to you? How many times do I have to tell you that this ranch is a team effort? I don't expect you to know everything! Or to get everything done in one day! If you're afraid of horses, or don't know how to ride a horse, you could've just said that. I wouldn't have pushed you any further, or made fun of you; I could've helped you if you had told me. Can you please, please, stop viewing me as the enemy? I'm trying here, Harry and you just keep shoving me away! It's frustrating, and tiring, and honestly? I'm getting sick of it"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he said abruptly, shutting me up.

"What?"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he repeated.

"Yeah, no, I heard you the first time. Explain further please?"

"No"

"No? Harry—"

"Stop! Stop pushing all the goddamn time! You want to talk frustrating?! That's frustrating! You act entitled, like you deserve to know everything! I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself. You don't need to know everything, Delaney. You say I keep playing games with you, then what is this? I tell you something and you just can't leave it alone!"

"I'm just trying to understand you better" My voice cracked, my chest feeling heavy as I watched him glare at me.

"Well don't. Just teach me how to ride this damn horse so I can get this over with" he roughly replied, walking towards the barn, his back to me once again.

I took a deep breath, attempting to collect my spiraling emotions.

 I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself.

Trust me, I hear you loud and clear this time. 

"Come on slowpoke!" Harry called out, my eyes widening slightly as the burn intensified.

Did he just...?

* * * * 

Harry shaved his head. This was not on my 2023 bingo card.

I would've had this out sooner, but I redid the entire chapter twice..

Written on: November 3rd, 7th, 10th 2023

Published on: November 10th 2023

Word Count: 3729

Part Eight - coming soon

[atlafan]

[mortyandem]

Slathers self in watermelon jolly rancher scented Glow Recipe’s Watermelon Glow Body Cream.

*inhales deeply* “aww yes, the scent of a highly sophisticated woman”

[slutforsnow]

Reliving Hell

Chapter 6 :3

Summary: Someone's getting suspicious of "Easton's" identity and decides to see who he really is by seeing if he can scream

CW/TW: SA/groping, trauma response, violence, hungover

The next morning, Violent was stretching as she walked down the stairs. She had been too drunk to find Alias, so Courtney had brought her home, so nothing bad happened to her. She yawned as she pulled her hair up into some kind of style to make sure no one figured out she was a she.

"Ah, morning Vi," Courtney greeted as Violet threw on a coat just to be safe. She could never be to safe.

"Morning, Courtney," She greeted, looking around the kitchen for her boots.

"So, what you got plans for?" Court asked, setting a plate of breakfast on the table. She knew Vi had a tendency to skip breakfast when she was on a mission, but she at least wanted her best friend to eat something.

"Goin' to that ranchers place—Harry Hooker. He hired Billy, Alias, and I. Well, technically, he hired William H. Bonney, Alias, and Easton Vargough," She answered, correcting herself. Vi leaned against the tablet, using a fork to eat some of the egg and bacon on her plate. She grabbed her boots from the threshold leading into the living room, slipping them on and fixing her trousers to be over her boots.

"I should get goin'—should find Billy and group up with Alias," Vi added, grabbing her bandanna from her back pocket. She tied it around her face, securing it tightly.

"Alright, be safe Vi!!" Courtney told her as Violet left.

When Vi finally found Billy, he looked rough—like a kind of 'I'm so tired cause I had intense sex' rough.

"Hell happened to you?" Vi asked, laughing softly, grabbing his hat and fixing his hair somewhat.

"A girl; real pretty girl too from the saloon last night. Her name's Alice," Billy replied, grinning a bit before Violet put his hat back on his head.

"Oh."

Violet fought back the urge to scream; Alice slept with Billy!? Of all the people he could've slept with, he slept with her?! She shook it off, not wanting to keep the conversation on Alice going; the cunt was an all-too horrible memory for Vi to handle—especially with a hangover.

Violet fought back the urge to scream; Alice slept with Billy!? Of all the people he could've slept with, he slept with her?! She shook it off, not wanting to keep the conversation on Alice going; the cunt was an all-too horrible memory for Vi to handle—especially with a hangover.

"You ready to head to the ranch?" She asked, diffusing any questions Billy was starting to ask about why Violent had an angry look in her eyes.

"Yeah, and are you okay? You've got this... firey look in your eyes, and it's kinda scary," Billy questioned. Vi simply laughed it off, dismissing his question.

"I'm fine, knucklehead," She reassured, punching him in the arm. "Now let's go."

When the duo found Alias, the three of them made way for Harry Hooker's ranch.

Later, around maybe 3 hours after regrouping with Alias and making their way to the ranch, Violet was beginning to regret wearing 2 shirts. Did they conceal her female anatomy? Yes. Were they killing her and making her sweat to death? Yes. Was she going to suffer anyway to make sure no one found out "he" was actually a she? Very much so.

But to help her not focus on the sweltering heat, she was silently cursing out Alice. Alice was known for stealing boys back in her boarding school days—specifically boys Violet showed interest in. She never knew why Alice did it; if Violet had ever so much as said hi to another boy that wasn't Jesse, Alice or some other girl would yank them far from her. She hated it—all boys would eventually drop her as a friend and avoid her like the plague.

Eventually, it made her snap, and she started to act out, doing whatever she could to raise hell for everyone, and she thrived in it. She loved the attention and fear her other classmates had, seeing Vi cause destruction until she was expelled.

Shakin' her head, Violet squeezed her eyes shut and disrupted any memories of her boarding school days. Her chaos had been short-lived and not enough to undo the hell hole before she snapped. Sighing, she stretched, deciding to take a mild break from workin'. Sliding her smaller frame off of North, she made her way to grab some water.

She hummed to herself, grabbing a mug and lightly dunking it into the tub of water before beginning to down it after pulling her bandanna down enough to let her drink the heavenly liquid that trickled its way down her throat.

Meanwhile, Billy was helpin', the other cowboys bring the cattle back and lock them in their pen. He was thinkin' back to last night about Alice and how nice she felt against him. He was hopin' to see her again, wanting to introduce her to Violet. Then he heard it.

The blood-curtling horrified womanly scream that no pre-pubescent boy could ever imitate. He snapped his head towards the direction he heard it and snapped the reigns, urging his horse to the origin of Violet's scream of absolute terror.

When he came back to her, he practically jumped off his horse and kneeled down to her. She was hyperventilating with tears rolling down her cheeks and crying, holding onto Billy, feeling his calming and reassuring grip.

"Vi, it's okay, it's okay, it's just me, it's just me," He told her, pulling her into his arms and his hand on the back of her head. "Shh, shh, it's okay I've got you."

The other cowboys were talking amongst themselves about how "Easton" wasn't a he and instead was a girl. Billy took notice that one of the other cowboys had Violets hat in his hand and frowned, putting the pieces together and realizing what must've happened.

He stood up, holding Violet close in bridal style, and set her on his horse. He put his hat on her head, which ensured that no one else would touch her as Alias joined the two.

"Vi, I'm gonna go get your hat, OK? Alias is gonna stay with you," He told her, holding her free hand. Her other hand was holding the buttons of her shirt together, so they didn't expose her chest more.

She simply nodded, not meeting his gaze. Billy squeezed her hand before going off, grabbing her hat and cursing out the other cowboys for what they did to her.

After the three got to a quieter place, Violet finally took Billy's hat off and dropped it onto his head and putting hers back onto her head.

"Hey," Billy greeted, looking up at her with a reassuring smile as he led his and her horses in tow to Alias and his horse.

"Hi," She replied, her voice thick from crying.

"I took care of 'em," He told her, averting his gaze as she fixed her shirts. "Mr. Hooker's gonna fire 'em hopefully and you'll get to keep your job."

"I don't wanna," She mumbled, taking the reigns of Billy's horse weaving the leathers through her fingers. "Wanna find a different job."

"Are you sure? Alias got us this job-" Billy asked, confused but understanding. After what happened, he didn't blame her one bit, and if he was in her shoes, he'd do the exact same.

"I'm sure." Billy nodded, leaving it at that. He wasn't one to judge and wasn't going to start now.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing

[sadsongsandwaltzes]

about country music, I've never really gotten into it. May I ask why you like it so and what might be some good songs to start listening to?

It all started when I was born…

I was born into a family living in a trailer house in the middle of an alfalfa field. My mother a schoolteacher, my father hauled manure. My grandparents were farmers and ranchers. My clothes were hand me downs and most of our meals were rather bland. On one hand I guess you could say in some sense, country music is the music of my people. It’s an ingrained sense of belonging. The category to which we belonged was “poor rural country folk” and that’s just who we were. It’s the sounds of home. The topics of familiarity. There’s a natural and proud bias.

On the other hand is my father. A naturally talented musician with an extreme adoration for country music. I would sit on the floor playing with my dollhouse and he would sit and strum James Taylor songs and sing them to me (which is folk music, but it’s adjacent). He would tuck me into bed and sing me I Love by Tom T. Hall. He instilled in me from a young age a love for music. A love for great songwriting and beautiful melodies.

I did grow up with the oldies. I knew all them old songs, but I’d be lying if I said I cared about them. Growing up, with the exception of a few favorite songs, I didn’t give a flying crap about (especially classic) country because it was my parents music. And I wanted to be rebellious and be anyone but who I actually was. So that’s when I got heavy into rock and such.

Fast forward to 19. I was on my own. The perfect storm hit. Being on my own for the first time, I was homesick. And the old country songs sounded like a warm Sunday afternoon. And then I went through my first very real heartbreak. Let me tell you, nothing will turn you onto country music quicker than hardship. Hard times and country music fit each other like a glove. Suddenly all these old songs I used to think were boring began to speak directly to my heart. I was a little older, I’d lived a little life, felt a few heartaches, made a few mistakes. I was now able to understand and appreciate the lyrics to a lot of these old songs.

Combine the emotional aspects (nostalgia and heartache) with my what was and is my very real deep seeded love for music in general, I began to study country music history, without even realizing really what I was getting into. I’m glad for that lonely time because it prompted me into discovering my greatest earthly passion. I was just trying to survive, and from the ashes arose a real love and appreciation for music and art like I never had before. I began to realize most American music wouldn’t exist without country (yes including and especially rock). I learn the history, the techniques, its reason for being. Every people group has its own folk music. The songs of the laborers, the forgotten, the downtrodden. And country music is the culmination of all those folk styles blending together. It’s the music of the people. People brought their own instruments together and sang the songs they knew: about the hard work they’ve down, the hard times they’ve experienced, the hymns of praise they sang at church, the grand stories they’ve heard. It’s the music that cuts at the core of the human experience. It’s music that exists simply for the love of music. It’s the music that exists for the specific need of exposing the inner soul. For saying what you can’t. Being the voice you need. For entertainment. Country music is well known for its storytelling and simple yet effective songwriting. “Three chords and the truth,” as it were.

I realized how truly special this music was. How objectively good it was (the average bluegrass musician can play circles around the average rock musician), and the need for it in this life. And in the words of emmylou Harris: “once I became converted to country music — there’s no other word for it — but I became obnoxious trying to get people to listen to it” (I’m paraphrasing)

As far as song recommendations, I’d have to know more about your specific taste or what kind of songs would speak to you. So I can only make general recommendations.

Everyone loves Johnny Cash as a whole. I don’t think I know a single person who doesn’t love Seminole Wind by John Anderson. or Kiss An Angel Good Morning by Charley Pride. or Wichita Lineman by Glen Campbell. Maybe listen to Drive by Alan Jackson. or Pancho And Lefty by Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard. Everything That Glitters Is Not Gold by Dan Seals. George Strait is the king of course, so maybe any of his biggest hits. I don’t know if you’d like the real twangy stuff or not. Or the cowboy stuff. Maybe you’d like the modern red dirt scene. So maybe check out Turnpike Troubadours. I think in general 90s country is also a good general gateway, because the music is so fun. Everyone loves blasting 90s country on a hot summer day and throwing a couple back. If you like being depressed, however, may I suggest Traveling Alone by Jason Isbell? If you like 70s, definitely check out Waylon or Emmylou Harris. If you wanna understand what I mean about country music being the voice for the forgotten, perhaps I could interest you in Mamas Hungry Eyes by Merle Haggard.

But yeah idk lol I’d need more details about you

[shefanispeculator]

Jan and B in OK

Looking back it does seem B goes back to OK in Jan and maybe does feral hog hunt.

Seems to do "flying" around property in January. I know he does other times too.

2017

January 26-29: Blake OK Blake seen in Tish in camo with friends; Hog Hunting?

January 29: Gwen Alisa Guest Ranch Solvang

2021

Jan 12: HC flying around property. G on way back to VN, B in OK

2023

Jan 27: VN to PNX 1900 Gwen at Harry Styles

Jan 28: HC flew 2 hours around property

2024

Jan 18: HC flying around property for a hour

An anon had mentioned feral hogs being bad this year

Feral swine have become a concern across Oklahoma because of their expanding numbers and the damage they inflict to the landscape. Feral swine have been detected in 70 of the state's 77 counties, but they are most prevalent across the southern parts of Oklahoma. They are also most active at night.

Feral hogs congregate in "sounders," as the large groups are called. Each sounder can tear up several acres every night looking for food, which can include cropland, pastures, golf courses, and even residential lawns. They will eat about 4 percent of their body weight daily.

Feral hogs the bane of ranchers, farmers | News | tahlequahdailypress.com

[becomeawendybird]

Any Man of Mine by QuickedWeen (5.3k, T)

Harry goes to visit his old friend Louis at his ranch in Texas after they reconnect during the pandemic. He learns a thing or two about cowboy hat etiquette.

Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, Summer Camp, Cowboy Hats, Rancher Louis Tomlinson, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Lawyer Harry Styles, Cowboy Hat Etiquette, line dancing, Pandemics

Written for @wordplayfics for the prompt "Swing."

[midnight-moth]

HellTaker - Short roughly 2 hour game about going to hell and fighting demons to join your harem and take over hell (it's a comedy)

Balders Gate 3 - New dnd 5th edition style game, amazingly written characters that have very obvious growth and it's an all around amazingly fun game

Life is strange series - Choices impact the story game, deals with some mental health related things

Ori and the blind forest - Cute platformer game with a story element

OuterWilds - Mystery space game where you have to unravel the mystery behind it

Red Dead Redemption 2 - Cowboy game with an absolutely amazing story

Portal Series - Puzzle and platformer, really fun and a classic

Slime Rancher - You are a Slime farmer, there's a small story element

Spirit Farer - Story and kinda platformer that has a absolutely touching story about death, loss, grief, and acceptance

Stardew Valley - The ultimate cute farming sim with characters to romance

Stray - You play as a cat, puzzle and mystery story game

Undertale - Multiple routes, such an amazing story in every one

Hogwarts Legacy - If you're a harry potter fan it's amazing

Journey - Haven't played yet but have been given Amazing review's of it

Final Fantasy XIV - MMO but very story based and has some amazing stories and expansions

Genshin Impact - Gotcha game with big story elements

I have more but I'll stop here

Omg so many games! I think I should’ve known you would have some suggestions since you post games on your IG stories sometimes. I really want to play FF but I am ✨intimidated✨I have played life is strange! It’s really good!

Thank you so much for the recommendations. I think I really want to be a stray cat 🥰

[handeaux]

Frank Frayne’s Fatal Shot Echoed Through The Decades In Over-The-Rhine

When Frank I. Frayne’s troupe rolled into Cincinnati back in 1882, there was scant indication that he would precipitate the darkest night in Cincinnati theater history.

Frayne managed an immense production bankrolled by New York impresario Harry Miner. It was really big. Frayne’s show was so big, it was advertised as a “combination.” That was a term the biggest circuses used to describe their organizations. The “circus” meant only the acts in the sawdust ring. Add a sideshow with various freaks and a traveling zoo and you had a combination. That’s what Frank Frayne brought to Cincinnati. An advertisement [28 November 1881] gives a fair inventory of Frayne’s traveling ensemble:

“During the week and Wednesday and Saturday Matinees, Harry Miner’s Frank I. Frayne Combination and Dramatic Artists, and the Wonderful Acting Dog Jack, the African Lion Emperor; also the two Performing Bears Bruno and Chio. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Wednesday Matinee, “Mardo, or, The Nihilists of St. Petersburg.” Thursday, Friday and Saturday and Saturday Matinee, “Si Slocum.”

One year later, in November 1882, Frayne was back in Cincinnati at the Coliseum Theater on Vine Street with the same two melodramas, but this time his menagerie was enlarged by the addition of a small pack of hyenas. Jack the Dog still got star billing. The Coliseum Theater up on Vine Street was the jewel in Hubert Heuck’s chain of theaters here and in various Midwest cities. It was formerly a beer garden but Heuck converted it into a theater and opera house at no small expense.

It appears that “Mardo” was Frayne’s personal adaptation of a play by Oscar Wilde, “Vera, or The Nihilists.” Frayne’s script has not survived, but the newspaper reviews suggest that it was a ton more exciting than Wilde’s drama. Here is the Enquirer [28 November 1882]:

“There are any amount of desperate actions, dastardly threats, fire scenes, murders, &c., and the lovers of this style of drama will see almost a lifetime of sensation in each act of “Mardo.” The dog Jack is a show in himself and acts his part with the best of the cast. During the play we see the Nubian lion, the ferocious hyenas and the wrestling bear, and these, together with a very passable cast, make it impossible for “Mardo” to be at all dull.”

Frank Frayne himself was fairly well known. He was a sharpshooter at a time when that was a popular stage act. Among his contemporaries and competitors were Annie Oakley and her mentor and husband, Frank Butler. Frayne found enormous success incorporating his rifle tricks into the context of various melodramas in which he portrayed heroic men of action forced to shoot their way out of diabolical predicaments.

Frayne’s second Cincinnati offering, “Si Slocum” was written especially for Frayne by Clifton Tayleure, a successful Broadway producer. The plot is inconsequential, but involves Frayne as Si Slocum, a poor but honest rancher whose lands are coveted by the nefarious scoundrel, Vasquez. It is doubtful that Tayleure envisioned all the zoological extravagances and sharpshooting folderol Frayne piled onto his script. In the course of five acts, Slocum kills a lion, gets rescued by his faithful hound, shoots a pipe out of a ranch-hand’s mouth, plugs a half-dozen playing cards, shoots a bear, scatters the stage with random crockery and saves his wife several times. Somehow, the hyenas made an appearance as well. This stuff sold tickets back then. The Coliseum’s 2,000 seats were occupied the entire week of Frayne’s residency.

The role of Slocum’s wife was played by 25-year-old Annie Von Behren, an up-and-coming actress who was at that time Frayne’s fiancée. Brooklyn-born Miss Von Behren had an extensive theatrical resume before she took on the role of Ruth Slocum. She was thoroughly familiar with the Coliseum Theater, having performed for a couple of years among the stock company of that venue. She later joined a traveling troupe that took her to New York, where she met the widowed Frank Frayne, joined his combination as leading lady and won his heart.

At a critical scene in “Si Slocum,” Vasquez has Slocum cornered, with a dozen bandits drawing a bead on him. Vasquez announces that he likes Slocum’s “pluck,” and offers to free Slocum and end their feud if Slocum can shoot an apple off his wife’s head, while facing backward and aiming the shot with a mirror. Frayne had performed this trick shot hundreds of times over the years.

For reasons never fully explained, Frayne’s trick shot failed, and he sent a bullet through Annie Von Behren’s brain. Frayne screamed in terror as he rushed to his fiancée’s side. The curtain dropped immediately as the audience sat in petrified silence. Theater manager James Fennessey sent H.M. Markham, the actor appearing as the villain Vasquez, to the front of the stage to calm the audience. Markham nervously informed the crowd that the dead Annie von Behren had sustained a slight injury and they should collect a refund on their way out the door.

The next day, Coroner John Rendigs conducted an inquest, at which Frayne appeared. Some witnesses claimed Frayne’s rifle malfunctioned and that, in particular, a screw broke as the gun fired, dropping the rifle barrel downward. Some suggested the cartridge was defective. Other witnesses questioned why Annie was not wearing a metal cap under her wig as she usually did. The coroner declared the death accidental, caused by a bullet fired without criminal intent. Frayne announced he would never return to the stage but did so within a year, reviving the role of Si Slocum. Soon after, he married a woman named Margaret Thompson, who wisely refused to go on stage in his act.

Another victim of the Frayne shooting was the Coliseum Theater itself. Robert Heuck, son of Coliseum owner Hubert Heuck, explained [Bulletin of the Historical and Philosophical Society of Ohio - Volume 20, No. 4, October 1962] that the theater had to be renamed as a result of public opinion.

“The court decision declaring [Frayne’s] innocence was not taken lightly by a great many people in Over-the-Rhine. The show was only closed November 30th and December 1st, however; the receipts for the 2nd and 3rd were light. The court decision was so unpopular that it was thought best to change the name of this new theatre. In fact, it was called just that, "New Theatre," for some time. In 1883, the name of the New Theatre between 12th and 13th on Vine was changed to Heuck's Opera House, and the former Heuck's Opera House at 13th and Vine was re-named ‘People's.’ Of course, it's confusing! Many accounts relating to actors and plays of those earlier show days are in error for lack of understanding of this gobble-de-gook.”

The rechristened Heuck’s was renamed again in 1930 when it became a movie theater known as the Rialto. The building was demolished and the site is today a parking lot.

[love-bokumono-fics]

Fresh Crops! December 11 - December 17, 2023

This week's newest stories and chapter updates for Harvest Moon and Story of Seasons on AO3!

Insatiable - by Perversions; Complete, 1/1, 3.2k

Rating: Explicit; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandom: Harvest Moon and Story of Seasons Relationship: Gwen/Vaughn; Characters: Gwen, Vaughn | Waltz Additional Tags: **NOTE: Some tags have been removed to remain Safe For Tumblr. Please see AO3 for complete list** Unsafe Sex, Established Relationship, Riding, Doggy Style, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Begging, Teasing, Wet Dream, Frottage, Masturbation, Cussing, Marking Summary: Waking up horny was never a problem. It always had an easy solution to solve when they were both awake. Waking up horny in the middle of the night while her boyfriend was sleeping was a different story.

Her Voice Within - by syavwits; Complete, 6/6, 14k

Rating: Not Rated; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandoms: Back To Nature Relationship: Claire the Farmer/Gray; Characters: Claire the Farmer, Pete the Farmer, Gray, Rick, Kai, Cliff, Doctor | Trent, Mary the Librarian | Marie, Karen, Popuri, Ann the Innkeeper | Ran, Elli | Elly, Manna, Duke, Doug | Dudley, Old Ellen, May | Mei, Stu | Yu, Zack, Won | Huang, Anna, Basil the Writer, Saibara, Harris, Gotz | Gotts, Kano, Louis the Entomologist | Chuu, Greg, Barley | Mugi, Aja | Adge Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Romantic Soulmates, Soul-Searching, Mystery, Mute Protagonist, Found Family Summary: It's not that Claire can't talk, she sometimes speaks yes, but only when she really put all her energies to do it. Then there's Gray, the stoic guy with the famous resting b*tch face, he doesn't want anything to do with anyone, everyone, even the new girl although she's… cute. While Pete tries to save his farm, he also confides in Claire and asks her help to search for his unknown childhood friend, his first love, who apparently is one of the girls in Mineral town?!? Will Claire manage to find Pete's long-lost Best friend? Will Claire find what she truly desires in her second chance at life?

Don't Eat Flowers - by Maymist; Complete, 10/10, 20k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/F Fandoms: A Wonderful Life Relationship: Nami/Pony | Aya | Jill; Characters: Nami, Pony | Aya | Jill, Rock, Reader Additional Tags: Lesbian Character, Inspired by Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons, Mentions of Other Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons Games, Blue Feather, Romance, LGBTQ Character, POV Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship Summary: The new farmer girl in Forgotten Valley attempts to give Nami some flowers to, er… totally give the hint that she's romantically interested in the very much reserved tomboyish red-head. Nami completely jumps to conclusions and misunderstands though, and that's where this silly romance begins. What kind of other madness will ensue?

The Heart of a Westown Cowboy - by Mya_Stone; WIP, 36/?, 50k

Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandom: Trio of Towns Relationships: Female Farmer/Wayne, Farmer & Wayne, Wayne & Ford; Characters: Frank, Ford, Carrie, Brad, Megan, Hector, Colin, Daryl | Darius, Marlena, Lynn, Wayne, Miranda Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Guy Falls First, famiy drama, I Wrote This For Me But I'll Share It With You Summary: Wayne is Westown's perpetually single lady's man. He'd like to settle down but he just hasn't found The One and he's fairly certain he's met everyone in town. Then Melody moves in, taking a plot of her uncle's ranch to fulfill her dream of being a rancher. A college-educated business woman, Melody doesn't accept failure - especially not her own. As Wayne falls hard for her, she struggles to return his affections until she has what she came for - and when she continually comes up short at the cow competitions, she begins to wonder if Westown is really the place for her.

The Scientist and his Farmer - by Daryls_Favourite; WIP, 13/?, 13k

Rating: Not Rated; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandoms: A Wonderful Life Relationship: Daryl/reader; Characters: Daryl, Rock, Muffy | Molly, Marlin | Matthew, Forgotten valley villagers, Reader Summary: You have been living in forgotten valley for a little under a year. Winter is underway and you need to keep your farm afloat whilst also trying to court a suitable spouse.

The Princess and the Carpenter - by SymphonicFantasia; WIP, 20/50, 2.9k

Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: Magical Melody, Save the Homeland, Hero of Leaf Valley Relationship: Dia/Kurt | Hayato; Characters: Dia, Kurt Summary: They weren't so different from one another although others may not think so. Just because she was a "princess" didn't mean that the carpenter didn't belong with her. It just took a bit of chiseling to see who they really were deep down. And even then, they would only show those halves to one another.

What Others Say - by Anonymous; Complete, 1/1, 1.8k

Rating: Explicit; Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con; Category: M/M Fandom: Pioneers of Olive Town Relationship: Eiji | Ollie/Iori; Characters: Iori, Eiji | Ollie Additional Tags:**NOTE: Some tags have been removed to stay Save For Tumblr. Please see AO3 for complete list. Sexual Coercion, Jealousy, Established Relationship, Domestic Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Top Iori, Bottom Eiji | Ollie Summary: It's hard to ignore what others say when it aligns with your hunches.

Unkind - by Anonymous; Complete, 1/1, <1k

Rating: Mature; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/F Fandom: Friends of Mineral Town Relationship: Claire/Elli | Elly; Characters: Claire, Elli | Elly, Harvest Goddess Additional Tags: Domestic Violence, Magical Pregnancy, Misunderstandings, Hurt/Comfort Summary: A lot of pain and heartache could have been avoided if only a certain someone had communicated beforehand.

And one Not Safe for Tumblr fic by Thefallen1986

[masterwords]

chill out

Summary: Derek and a friend make some pot brownies to help chill Hotch out. (Post Route-66)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: a lot of talk about marijuana, grief, pain, doctors

Notes: Is this a crack-fic? I dunno. Maybe. The idea started with the @yearoftheotpevent February prompts "established relationship" and "different"...and kind of spiraled from there with a lot of help from Harry Styles. If you haven't read prior stories involving my delightful (slightly evil) OC Coleen, here is a bit of history: the high price of shame

**

The house, modest from the outside, was nothing like Derek expected as he approached. Its bones screamed mid-century rancher, single level, low ceilings. But from the moment he was in the entryway, he realized how wrong he was. The hallway, beset with a hanging lamp in shades of deep brown and gold, opened up into a sunken great room with a vaulted ceiling and a wall of windows overlooking the city, at least once you got past the sizable estate that stretched out emerald green for ages. David Rossi might even be impressed with this.

"You live in a house..." he mused, stepping down into the main area and peering around at all of the impeccable mid-century details that would have made Carol Brady's knees buckle from sheer joy. He grew up fantasizing about houses like this as he wandered through his modest inner-city Chicago home with neighbors close enough to hear your dinner prayers unless you whispered. This was the stuff of sitcom families, well-to-do but parading as somehow being middle class. His socked feet sunk deep in the burnt orange shag carpet that didn't look a day past being straight from the showroom and yet he couldn't think of a single place you'd get something like this nowadays. And he'd looked, too, for one of his properties that had bones like this. No, this was original. "Where do you want these?" He gestured to the grocery bags in his arms full of all sorts of baking supplies and a bottle of wine for good measure. With a sneer she gestured toward the kitchen.

The kitchen. He'd always loved to picture his mom in a kitchen like this, a kitchen like she deserved. Throwing together a pot of chili or a peach cobbler with counters stretching as far as the eye could see. More cupboards than you could ever fill. Hell, he would have settled for a dishwasher or a sink that didn't back up once a week though. Probably Coleen wasn't as well-acquainted with a plunger as Fran Morgan had been.

"Not what I pictured..." he said, finally, setting the bags down and emptying them on the counters. Coleen snorted at his candor.

"What did you expect?”

“Always had you pegged for someone who lives in a cave. You know, big bubblin' cauldron over open flames...some ancient book of spells on display, eye of newt and some gnawed on bones...a raven or some shit boppin' around...that sort of thing.” He spent too much time with Spencer, being able to pull all of that out of thin air. He really needed to find new friends. Or introduce Coleen and Spencer, perhaps...let him off the hook.

“Us modern witches keep all of that in the basement."

He smiled at that and shook his head, admiring the carpentry of the cupboards while she sorted the groceries and made sure he brought exactly what she'd asked. “You didn't bring Aaron.”

“He's sleeping. Lazy bones.” The last bit Derek said softly, and it was her turn to smile. Derek, for all of his biting jokes at her expense and excess nervous energy over this undertaking, adored Hotch. Which was why he was there in the first place. The two of them were otherwise not frequently able to find much common ground. She reminded him of George Burns playing God, or the Devil, maybe both and she left him feeling ill at ease. In turn, all of Derek's sunshine made her uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't care for each other, but without Hotch being present they quickly found that they had little in common.

Until Derek mentioned Hotch's heightened stress and anxiety, his return to work taking more out of him than they'd anticipated. Of course, Derek had tried to talk him into taking a full six weeks of leave but that had been vetoed quickly. As soon as he was able to fake his way through a fitness for duty exam, he was back. Add to that the ongoing situation with Sean's sentencing and it had become something of a perfect storm. He hadn't ever been very good at relaxing, but it seemed that now he couldn't even begin to figure out how...and each doctor's visit ended the same way. Find a way to lower your stress or you're going to end up back in the hospital. Or worse.

Well, Coleen understood worse. She'd lost a husband to that. Maybe her favorite one. So, when she approached Derek quietly while Hotch showered after physical therapy and told him she had just the thing, he couldn't say no. He knew what it meant; he'd heard all of her tall tales and her interesting medical theories. He also knew it came from a place of love, and he had started feeling bleak about the whole situation. He probably would have tried anything, so really, this was fairly benign.

Just some hash brownies. Besides, the woman was ancient...she had to be doing something right.

Derek had intended to bring Hotch along, figuring a visit might do him some good. But after a morning spent at physical therapy and then breakfast with some of the ladies at a chic little cafe afterward, he could scarcely keep his eyes open let alone stay upright. Derek insisted he be home and sleep. With Jack being out of town with Jessica's side of the family for the whole weekend the house was blissfully quiet. Just Hotch and Clooney, two old men and their favorite blankets in an empty house.

“He did great in the pool this morning,” Coleen said, tapping an egg on the rim of a bowl with one manicured claw. Her red nail polish was the color of blood. “Haven't seen him so spry in a long while now.”

“It's coming back slowly.”

“He's old, let the poor creature take his time.” She took a drag on the joint she'd lit without him even realizing it, holding it tenderly between steady gnarled fingers. Did she just roll it? Did she have it in her pocket? It was like magic, the way it appeared out of nowhere.

Derek didn't like the sound of healing slowly, but he had no control over what she said nor how Hotch healed. He had no control over anything much these days.

“You'll want to watch me make these, dummy,” she said, snapping Derek from his spiraling thoughts. “I refuse to write it down for you. This recipe dies with me.” She offered him the joint with a caustic, dangerous smile. He would take it, just a little, just for now. You can't make brownies like this without being a little high right?

“I wouldn't be able to read it anyway,” he croaked, leaning over her shoulder expectantly while he locked the burning lemony smoke deep in his lungs. She was so tiny, a little bag of bones, it didn't take much for him to completely engulf her. She didn't seem to mind. “I can't read Latin.”

Coleen smirked and whisked the eggs and sugar together, the yellow bowl huge in her thin little arms. “I in malam crucem.”

“Whatever you say, lady.” He didn't really want to know what she said, but he could probably ask Reid later to give him the cliff's notes version. He knew it was nothing good, probably the Latin equivalent of go fuck yourself. Frowning, Derek moved to examine the ingredients on the counter that he hadn't brought, the key component being a brick of hash the likes of which he hadn't seen since his beat cop days. “What about the leeches? Thought all you old timers used 'em.”

“What in the heavens would he need those for?" She paused for effect before continuing. "The leeches are mine. How do you think I've managed to maintain my youthful glow all these years?”

“Sorta figured you for a bathing in the blood of your enemies type.”

Coleen sniffed indignantly and turned away from Derek to reach up into her cupboard for a small glass jar way in the back. The kind she had to shoo other things out of the way of before her claws could grip and pull. It was a jar of what looked like some kind of honey, thick and dark and odorous. God, the things he could say about that, how putrid and horrific it looked, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I'm moving this as soon as you're gone, so don't go getting any ideas.” She smirked and Derek rolled his eyes dramatically. He didn't even really know what it was except that it looked potent and a little scary...he had only enough experience with marijuana to have enjoyed it a few times in college after he blew out his knee and had to recalibrate his entire life's trajectory. He'd gone off the deep end for a short time before pulling himself together. It was a rough time, one that didn't garner him much favor in his mom's eyes. Of course, his time as a cop (and now this) showed him that what he'd considered the deep end was nothing but a shallow and tepid kiddie pool. From what Hotch has divulged of his own troubled youth, he had far more experience with the stuff (and possibly worse, though he'd spared Derek any specifics), and a lot more hate than love in that old relationship. All in all, this had been a hard sell.

“I work for the government. You think I don't know all the best places to get this shit? Come off it. You're gonna have to produce a lot more than that to shock and amaze me, Methuselah. Now show me how to make these brownies before he wakes up from his nap and I'm not home.”

They quieted after that, the snips and snaps dying down while Coleen shared with him a recipe that she'd held close to her for decades. Her sister had asked for it once and, though Coleen wasn't exactly beaming with pride over her response, she'd more or less said over my dead body. Of course, her sister having been dipped in the same scalding solution of genetics as Coleen herself said she could arrange that and though Coleen couldn't prove it she thought maybe she'd tried once or twice over the years. And good for her, too.

If she knew how readily Coleen was willing to give it up for that sack of bones snoring beside a german shepherd across town, her sister would have a few harsh words to say. The thing was, she was soft for Hotch and she simply couldn't help herself. Maybe he reminded her of her favorite ex-husband, the damn fool who went and died on her long before she was ready for him to be gone. Who bought her flowers and saw to her every need, with never a cross word. Who spoke gently in direct opposition with his size and intimidating demeanor. He was an accountant, a big burly man who had to have his suits custom made, who captured spiders beneath glasses and released them out the backdoor rather than smashing them. A gentle giant.

She wouldn't admit it, but she was soft for Derek too. And the minute they came into her life, she was theirs. Hotch and his unruly black hair pushed up in tufts, walking slowly with his hand pressed against his scarred stomach like he was holding his insides where they belonged. Considering how often they'd nearly been spilled; she couldn't blame him. He approached the pool apprehensively, studying his options, looking for the path of least resistance. She could tell he wasn't someone who was used to obstacles in his way, and when they appeared they weren't there for long. She'd almost slithered from her side of the pool to him, to offer to help, but there was Derek coming up behind him from out of nowhere, hand on his hip...he didn't really do anything, she had noted. He just offered support. Hotch set his features and gripped the metal railing, leaning heavily against it while he stepped one foot after another into the pool and she caught that little slip of a smile when his body was weightless and in his control again.

Yeah, she liked him. A lot. And she had a feeling a lot of people behaved similarly to that...he was frustratingly endearing and handsome to boot. A combination she'd never been able to resist. Besides, how else would a scowling curmudgeon like him have landed this hunk of chiseled marble standing in her kitchen, zipping up his worn-out old motorcycle boots? She could think of a thousand more fun things a ball of energy and stamina like this could have been doing with his Saturday morning, and he was here learning how to make brownies from an old lady. Hook line and sinker.

“Take this,” she finished, snapping a thick layer of plastic around the little pink tupperware of perfectly cut brownies. “And this.” She handed him a log of what looked like frozen chocolate chip cookie dough. “Just slice off enough for one at a time, it'll keep for months in the freezer. For desperate times.” She winked at him.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, not a hint of his usual sarcasm. “Really appreciate it.”

(x)

“You two conspired to drug me?” Hotch asked, wrinkling his nose at the tub of brownies on the counter. He knew even before asking what they were, the smell was that strong. He hadn't woken up from his nap long before Derek walked in. Still groggy, he wasn't sure he had the capacity to make a good decision here.

“To help you.”

“Right.” Hotch sighed, lifting the little tub and turning his face away as the smell smacked him right in every one of his senses. “Wow. Did you use Willie Nelson's recipe?”

“Funny you mention Willie. She said he actually uses her recipe. Guess one of her ex-husbands was some old Hollywood bigwig type and they had this party at their place and...”

Hotch was blinking slowly, staring at Derek with a look of utter confusion on his still exhausted face. “Who are you?”

“Hey. She's your friend.” As if that answered for all the rest of it, Derek huffed and popped open the container. Hotch nearly gagged on the smell. “Come on. You've been a huge stress monster and your doc said he'd give you a medical green card to help with the stomach pain anyway. We gotta find you a way to relax before your heart pops like a fuckin' water balloon, baby. Give it a shot?”

“Define a shot.”

“One bite. They're gonna be really damn strong, I don't think you could handle more than a corner...”

Derek extended what was more or less a glorified crumb, the corner of one thick dark brownie broken off. It was crusty and smelled absolutely green in spite of the deep, dark chocolate color. He hesitated.

“And if I hate it?”

“I got orange juice in the fridge, that'll take the edge off if it's bad. And I'm gonna be right here stone cold sober the whole time. We can go take a shower, lay in bed, sleep it off. You trust me?”

Hotch frowned, but took the bit of brownie between his finger and thumb anyway. “Implicitly.” He looked doubtful but he meant what he said. He trusted Derek with his life and, though the brownies looked and smelled dubious, he wouldn't start faltering now.

With one last worried glance at Derek, a chance to tell him to stop, he popped the bite into his mouth and washed down the foul flavor with a glass of water, shaking his head. “Disgusting.”

“I don't think the flavor is supposed to be its selling point.”

It wasn't. Not by a longshot. They wouldn't be winning any county fair awards unless the judges were looking for the best and fastest high...then it was a blue-ribbon recipe. It didn't take long before Hotch was melting into the couch, his entire body languorous and vibrating at a slow, steady rhythm set by the pumping of his heart. The ache in his chest that had been there weeks now, since before he collapsed in the conference room, dissipated gradually. It didn't quite vanish, but it moved around, seeping into quiet places where it could rest.

Clooney began sniffing around in the kitchen, ill at ease with a familiar old smell he was trained to detect which struck Hotch in such a silly incongruous way that he let out a little chuckle. That chuckle, from deep inside his chest, grew in strength until Derek noticed and smiled in return. He'd been busying himself with some case files, hoping that Hotch would just ease himself into oblivion happily and without his constant vigil. That would only make him nervous and question every tingle, every wave. Probably set off a panic attack. This way he just rode the surf on his own.

“What's so funny ya old geezer?” He plopped down beside Hotch, wishing he could enjoy some of the brownie himself. It was so tempting. But he'd promised...not this time. Not until they knew if it was going to be okay. Coleen had warned him that she was making them half strength but it would still be potent and had the potential to expose some nervousness that even Hotch's vault kept locked up tight. Some latent paranoia, or disastrous memories of he and Haley...or maybe something worse. Something he couldn't even put his finger on. That fear had crept up on him the first time he got high, the thought that it might unlock memories of his own childhood, the crystal clear night sky over a dark cabin...if Hotch kept anything like that locked up, he'd rather it stay that way. The threat loomed dangerously over his head but was assuaged by the gentle laughter he heard coming from the couch.

Now he just wanted to join him. Be in that delicate, happy place with him.

Hotch licked his dry lips and let his eyes close for a moment while he lazily sorted through his word bank. It had been a long time since he'd been high and even longer since he'd enjoyed it. This was such a strange mellow feeling, warmth spreading like musical notes through his sinew.

“Clooney,” he started, smiling. “He's sniffing out your supply Agent Morgan.”

Derek laughed and made a high-pitched whistling noise, drawing Clooney's attention to him immediately. “Forget it buddy. Lay off my stash.”

Clooney's tail wagged and he nosed at the counter, right below the offending Tupperware. Dog hadn't been with the Chicago PD for years now, but his training was solid, not easily forgotten. Old dog and his old tricks. “Busted...” Hotch whispered, leaning against Derek.

First Hotch just sat there, quiet, still as a mouse. Staring at the ceiling, and then at the television that was turned off, zoning out. Derek wondered what he was thinking but was too afraid to ask. After a while, he spoke softly of small things. What would Jack think about his dad being high as a kite? Would he try to steal the brownies? Would the team know what he was doing? What if he got drug tested?

“Green card,” Derek reminded him thoughtfully. “Your doc's already got it in the works. I don't think there's a single person that's gonna mistake you for a burn out. Stop trying to find ways to let your anxiety creep back in...”

“Maybe you could turn on some music?”

“Yeah. I could do that. Any requests?”

Hotch shook his head and let the smile smooth out his features again. “Surprise me.”

Flipping through records, some crisp and new still in the plastic and others worn soft at the corners and smelling like the dust of decades gone by, Derek settled somewhere between his taste and Hotch's. The opening notes, deep and broody, made him long for a nibble. Just a corner. He wanted to feel what Hotch was feeling, he wanted it so badly.

“You think you're gonna be good to ride this out?”

Hotch laughed a little in spite of himself. “Why? You want to join me?”

“I doooooooo...” Derek whined. “I really really do.”

“You don't have a green card,” Hotch said, his tone a gentle mockery of something serious. He didn't pull it off well, not when his entire body was melting into the couch cushions while Jim Morrison's voice slithered and slunk through the room all heady and dark. “What if your boss finds out?”

“He's a pushover. Kinda think he's a burnout, too.”

A kiss, quick and soft, took Hotch by surprise. Made him grab hold, fists twisted in Derek's t-shirt, holding on for dear life. He just wanted more of that. His eyes went wide at the sudden bright burst of expectation. They hadn't had much of a sex life lately, and the feel of Derek's breath rushing over his skin startled him in all the best ways. Maybe Derek having a little bite wouldn't be the worst thing in the world...might make it easier to drag him into the bedroom to mess around for a while without Derek stressing out over hurting him. After they got some food, though. He was starving. “One bite. This stuff could likely knock both Willie Nelson and Snoop Dogg out.”

“What, just cos it knocked you on your ass? I'll be the judge of that...” Derek announced striding confidently into the kitchen, but he was good.

Only a bite.

For now.

They had all weekend.

[britswriting]

Fallen For you H.S | AU - Five

Fallen For You Masterlist - Find description here

Read on Wattpad

Rancher!HarryxPlus-sized!OC

⚒️Harry⚒️

My nervous system was short circuiting. 

What the hell was she doing here?

"W-what?" I stumbled, completely thrown off by the five foot six, black hair, brown eyed girl who was standing in front of me appearing like she had all the confidence in the world. Only the slight rocking of her feet tells me another story.

If she was so nervous, why the hell was she standing at my front door? 

She said I hadn't forgotten anything, so why the hell would she be so nervous? Let alone come back here with another plate of food?

My eyes did a quick once over, noticing her now slightly frizzy black hair was pushed behind her shoulders. The humidity decided to take its toll on her. Her neck was covered by a collared shirt that wrinkled inwards towards the dip of her breasts from her bra. Her sweatpant-like shorts that stopped mid thigh were showcasing her legs; leading me to her bare feet.

Barefoot? Why?

"May I come in?" She asked, her voice sounding soft, delicate, unsure, making my stomach clench as I nodded slowly; stepping aside, extremely confused why she wasn't at the family dinner she was so set on me constantly attending.

Every bone in my body wanted to turn her away; but the intrigue my brain felt was too strong to tell her to get lost and leave me to eat my dinner in peace.

Instead, Delaney walks over to the table, setting her dish down before taking a seat in the empty chair across from me. I followed suit, my eyes lingering on her, awaiting her next movement. She stared at me for a few seconds before looking down at her food, spoon in hand as she moved it around slowly, then scooping it and letting it drop back into the bowl.

She looked nervous to the point it was making me nervous. Why was she here? Did her dad send her? He seems to do that. Pass her onto me like I'm some sort of punishment. Or at least that's what it felt like.

I could feel myself start to get agitated as I tried to figure out the motive for her arrival tonight. The silence on her end only made my spiraling thoughts worsen.

I knew I frustrated her. I could see it in her eyes anytime I spoke. She looked fed up with me. Like she'd rather be anywhere else than around me, but then I could feel her eyes linger on me. A feeling I knew all too well that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall as I kept walking, hoping they kept their promise that this place was nothing like the Rickman's. So far, that was true.

I wasn't overworked. If anything, I made myself work ten times harder than they had asked. After all, I was used to working on a much larger ranch. When I finished my chores for the day I started fixing little things here and there; keeping myself busy so they didn't have a chance to yell at me for twiddling my thumbs, even though it was never asked of me.

I knew Mr. Fallen didn't expect me to play handyman, but fixing gate latches and a leaky pipe here and there on the hoses made my job easier. I just hoped that they'd be more grateful than annoyed that I had gone and taken it upon myself to alter something they hadn't asked of me to do.

With the Rickman's it was always a toss up. Either you did something they didn't ask you of, and it was never mentioned, — they wouldn't be caught dead praising you for doing something of their benefit, even though you knew they had noticed; or you got yelled at for stepping out of place. Blamed for taking a job from someone else; that person then getting punished for letting their job be stolen.

If you weren't working twice as hard, you weren't working well enough, and if you stepped on someone else's toes by taking their work from them, you were considered greedy and inconsiderate. Yet if you had your jobs taken from you, you were reprimanded for not being active enough. For allowing it to be taken from you, even if you were gone doing another task.

Every day was a fucked up game of Am I going to get yelled at today? Fired? Belittled?

Some days doing more earned you extra, other days you were told you didn't know your place and that it was selfish of you to take someone else's job.

After all, we all needed our work. Just if you did more, you earned more. You were constantly competing against your other coworkers with the possibility of losing it all. Every day was a gamble.

The worst was the night shift. No one wanted the night shift. 

"Aren't you going to eat? It's going to get cold" Delaney's voice shook me out of my head, my eyes focused on her as she timidly ate her food.

I bought a spoonful of what was considered warm comfort food to my mouth, silence falling between us until Delaney had had enough.

"What do you think of the soup? It's my Grandpas' favorite. He loved whenever my Grandma made it, and my dad really loves it; so my mom learned how to make it" She informed me, the new slip of information piquing my interest.

"Your grandpa?" I questioned, Delaney nodding.

I've never heard anyone utter anything about a grandfather.

"Yeah, he passed a while back" She shrugged, "Anyway, do you like it? I'm not like" She pauses, giggling to herself, my lips threatening to show a small smile at the sound, "I'm not forcing you to say you like it" She giggled again, "It's just, my mom wants to know what you like. What her and my Grandma should make more often. It sounded like I was trapping you in a corner, sorry" She grinned, "You must like the soup or else you're kicked off the premises, mister!" She mocked in a low tone voice, wiggling her head as she spoke, hands on her hips before giggling to herself.

"It tastes fine. I'm not too picky" I replied stoically, moving some of the soup around before scooping it up, placing a dumpling in my mouth when she spoke up again. 

"So, what do you like to have for dinner? You can request things, you know. You don't have to eat what we are. Mom's been nagging me about all the things you like, claiming that we hang out so much I should know" her eyes rolling as she inhaled.

"I'm not picky" I repeated, Delaney sighing, setting her spoon back in her bowl.

"You've got to give me something to work with Harry! The woman won't leave me alone. She doesn't understand that us hanging out isn't secret sharing, and more like you hating my existence" She huffed, grabbing her spoon again.

"I don't hate your existence" I told her, Delaney's brown eyes looking up from the soup; our eyes meeting before I looked away. "I just get frustrated, is all" I stated, wishing she'd go away so I could eat and breathe in peace without feeling like she was searing judgmental holes into every part of my body.

Silence fell between us again before Delaney once again spoke up.

"How are you on food? Do you need anything? Don't be afraid to ask us to pick up on stuff. Oh!, and if you want any like snacks or desserts, let me know! I make requests all the time!" She grinned, wiggling a little in the seat as her face lit up, "I made Wren these cupcakes right? They're her favorite! They're like a golden brown yellow cake mix, right? Cooked perfectly so it's all warm and moist but she likes a little crunch on the outside, so I use my darker baking pants to darken the edges like she likes and then I fill them with butterscotch buttercream in the center and I dip them into hot melting chocolates so the top is coated in this yummy milk chocolate! Ugh! They're to die for, Harry!" She groaned, her head thrown back with her eyes closed for a moment before she leaned forward, opening her eyes again. "I'm just saying, you can request things.'' She giggled, "I love trying new baking things. My dad loves Poppy Seed Muffins and I'm honestly getting tired of making the same thing every week" She sighed, scooping up more of her soup. 

"I'm good on food for now" I finally answered her question, watching her cheeks flush pink turn red as she rolled her lips in, murmuring "Sorry" making me let out a low chuckle as I ate more of the soup, tearing a piece of the roll apart.

"I have a tendency to ramble" She confessed, her spoon messing with her soup again; "I know that annoys you so uh.. just tell me to be quiet when I do that"

She sounded so deflated that it almost made me feel bad.

When did I say it bothered me? She looked cute, all excited and happy talking about it.

Wait

Cute?

No.

She's not cute.

She can't be cute.

She isn't allowed to be cute.

I don't have time for cute.

She has to be a ugly troll under a bridge for the rest of her life. I can't do cute, right now. Mr. Fallen will murder me if he finds out that I even for a moment thought his daughter was cute.

The one time I tried to mingle with an owner's daughter did not land in my favor, and since then, I've been working in a place where I did my best to avoid the daughters who thought I was "cute".

Delaney continued to talk, trying to engage conversation with me as she ate her dinner, leaving me perplexed.

Why is she conversing with me? The employers don't talk to the employees. I'm here purely for work. Just like they wanted me to be. It was made clear that they needed me; and what my job entailed, and that they'd do anything to have my help.

I knew what came along with being the help, and conversations over Chicken Dumpling soup with one of the owners daughter wasn't it.

"Oh my god!" Delaney groans, "You can't take me anywhere!" She laughed, her hand holding part of the fabric that was covering her stomach in-between her fingers where she had spilt on herself.

"You've uh.." I paused, Delaney looking over at me, "Um.." I pointed at her face, her head tilting, "Food, here" I motioned towards under my lip above my chin with my finger, her entire face turning red as she wiped her hand across her chin.

"Oh my god" She whined, "That's so embarrassing! I always do this! I should've known.." She trailed off, getting up out of the chair, grabbing a rag and wetting it before dabbing her shirt.

"Do what? Slop on yourself?" I asked, turning to face her, abandoning my food completely as I stared at the back of her.

I couldn't help but notice the way the shorts clung around her ass before falling towards her thighs; the band noticeably clinging to her wide hips due to her shirt being bunched up at her waist as she cleaned it.

When she moved to turn around, I quickly looked away, grabbing my food again and shoveling some more into my mouth, scraping the bottom of the bowl.

Delaney sat back down, her face still hued pink as she grabbed her bowl.

"Sorry. I didn't grow up in the classiest of households. I tend to uh.. be a bit messy, sometimes" She said, not daring to look me in the eye as she took a bite out of her roll.

"I'm used to cleaning up messes" I numbly replied, wishing it came out more in a teasing tone like intended, but my monotone voice slipped out instead making me mentally groan at myself.

I wish I could just relax. Let her in like she so clearly wants, but I can't. I don't know how.

She isn't someone I should mingle with. There are boundaries in place that give me a million reasons as to why letting her in would be a bad thing.

For starters;

I need this job.

We can't afford to let something as silly as a teasing comment cost me the money I'm earning.

I knew from the moment I met her that she wouldn't be like the Rickman girls. She fumbled too much and was too stuck in her own head to be sultry and purposefully seductive. Like she fumbled her way through life more than critically thought out her next move.

Even her stares never felt intentional. She never kept her eyes locked on me when I turned around; almost like she didn't want to get caught, unlike someone who was trying to purposefully seduce you.

I learned pretty quickly with the Rickman girls that eye contact can get uncomfortable within seconds. Especially when they're openly masturbating in front of an open window right where you're working.

It got uncomfortable the moment I realized what was happening, and then it just never stopped.

You'd think with the presumptions of the male species, I'd get turned on. Want to enter her room, help her out. Fulfill the fantasy; but when it isn't mutual, it's just downright awkward and uncomfortable.

Sure if it was my girlfriend, or wife, maybe I'd put on a show. But my employers' daughter? It made my skin crawl.

I'd be stupid not to notice the immediate differences between the girls. 

For starts; Delaney was heavier set than the Rickman girls. Which wasn't a bad thing, but it of course is one of the things you're taught to notice about people.

Their height, their weight, what they're wearing, the way their hair is styled. The way they smell, if they have straight white teeth or crooked stain ones.

You're taught to judge their appearance within seconds of meeting them.

Delaney seemed anxious when I first met her. She fiddled a lot. Was constantly daydreaming. Hard to have a conversation with; not like I wanted to in the first place.

Her dark hair was pin straight, cascading down her back. Light wash blue jeans covered her thick thighs, a tucked in pink shirt curved around her breasts and belly, hugging her hips as she rocked on her feet, looking like she was going to hurl the more her parents spoke.

The Rickman girls were a lot skinnier. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes, dark intentions. 

The moment I met them, I thought maybe we could be friends. I was used to seeing everyone all the time, talking with them whilst I worked; but that quickly changed.

Not only was Mr. Rickman on my ass all the time, along with Mrs. Rickman which was surprising, but their daughters were the least bit subtle when it came to making their intentions crystal clear. 

"Are you done?" Delaney asked, getting me to look up at her.

Her brown eyes screamed uncomfortable, a pang of guilt stinging inside of my chest.

Was it me? Did I make her uncomfortable?

She looked like she was trying to find any reason to slip out of the house they've lent to me; which was fine by me. I wasn't forcing her here. She invited herself here.

"Uh, Yeah. I'll just clean it real quick and you can take it back" I informed, standing up from my chair, grabbing the dishes and walking them to the sink.

"Harry, you don't have to. We have a dishwasher—" She started, my head shaking with disapproval as I turned on the tap, rinsing it before adding soap.

"I can clean my own messes" I reminded her, running the washcloth in the bowl.

"Harry" Delaney's soft voice piqued my ears' attention due to the silence that surrounded us. "You're not working. You're not earning your keep. We're just hanging out. You don't have to do your dishes to gain approval"

My body stiffened at her words before I quickly rolled out my shoulder blades, setting the clean dishes aside, turning to reach for hers, "It's fine" I replied, "I don't mind doing the dishes"

I regret ever telling her that I had to earn my keep. I knew the second it left my mouth that it was a mistake.

She sighed as I cleaned her things, stacking them into a neat pile before stacking them all together and handing them to her.

Delaney took the dishes, looking at me, then the dishware, then me again before her shoulders dropped and she gave a small nod.

"Thanks for letting me eat with you" She sighed, leaving the tiny house, allowing me room to breathe again.

I expected whatever this was to be a one and done type of thing, so the surprise I encased when she showed up at my door the next night, two plates in her hand made the skin between my brown wrinkle as I let her in; watching her set both plates down, moving to my cupboard, grabbing too cups before slipping something out from her back pocket that I didn't realize was there.

"Wait" I finally spoke, having watched her pull two glasses down before twisting open a bottle cap. "Was that in your pocket?" I questioned, Delaney giggling with a nod.

"It was pulling my jeans down!" She giggled, "It also barely fit. We need bigger pockets! I uh— you're not like, against alcohol, or something, right?" She asked, and that's when I noticed she had two Mike's Hard Lemonades.

"You don't need glasses for those" I stated, Delaney's head tilting before looking over her shoulder at me.

"Oh? You wanna drink straight from the bottle? I can get down with that" She grinned, putting the glasses back and grabbing the two bottles between her fingers, moving to set them down on the table.

"You're here again" I stated, Delaney nodding as she sat down.

"I am"

"Why?"

"Why not?" She countered back, picking up her fork, slicing into a porkchop. I stared for a second, watching her take a bite of the food before slowly walking over to where I sat. "Thanks for joining me" She grinned, a teasing twinkle in her eye as she cut another piece of the porkchop, dipping it into some sort of brown sauce.

"What's your motive?" I asked, not bothering to pick up the utensils until she tells me whatever game she's getting at.

This entire thing felt suspicious.

Dinner with me? The ranch hand? Two nights in a row? When she's never done this before? There has to be some sort of reason.

Her brow furrowed, "Motive?" She questioned, as if that was an absurd thought.

"Yes. Your motive" I confirmed, Delaney setting down her fork as her lips parted before pursed, pushing them to the side in a thinking manner, then relaxing.

"What do you think my motive is?" She played, her brows raised as she looked at me, followed by picking up her fork and cutting another piece of meat.

"I prefer to eat alone" I stated, Delaney's body tensing as she slowly chewed, swallowing with a small nod.

"You want me to leave?" She asked.

"No I just, I don't know." I sighed, frustrated with the mind games. "Why are you here?" I questioned, hating that she was making me flustered.

I can't remember the last time someone has made me stumble this much. It was aggravating me to no end.

I was used to working towards a goal. To have a reason. Her being here wasn't again tonight wasn't one of them and it was throwing a wrench into my routine; sending me for a loop as I tried to figure out what the sudden change was. 

If she wasn't quiet, she was yelling at me. Or laughing. Or telling me to go away. 

It was confusing.

She was always around, yet never seemed like she wanted to be there, even though I never asked her to be there. Maybe her dad had like the first day I arrived?

"I wanted to hang out with you, Harry. You're quite the loner" She hummed, taking a swig of the lemonade.

She wants to be here? Like I said, confusing.

"I'm not a loner" I huffed, "I just like being alone. There is a difference"

"Damn. Hit a nerve, did I?" She teased, my nostrils flaring, "Oh calm down, it's dinner. What's the worst that can happen? Mr. Harry Styles isn't alone for a full 24 hours?" She scoffed, repositioning her plate to reach the sides. "Anyways, how was your day? I've been busy out of my mind all day" She informed me, glancing up at me, waiting for a response.

"Was fine. Did my work" I numbly answered, Delaney nodding.

"My dad's been talking high praise of you lately. Saying you were worth the investment. You're allowing him time to go out and outsource more income. Although mom wishes you'd join us for dinner" She looked up at me over her plate, her brows raised.

"I'm fine alone" I repeated; indifferent about her invading my personal space.

"Harry" She sighed, and I knew I was in for whatever lecture was burning on the tip of her tongue. "You may think you're fine alone, but no one can ever truly be alone. We need socialization. You don't talk unless spoken to. We've invited you to join us for dinner because we want you there. You're not banned to these four walls. If you don't join us at least once for dinner so my mom can get off my ass about it; these one on one dinners are going to become a lot more frequent" She said, a smirk tugging at my lips.

I was right.

"So there is an ulterior motive" I replied smugly, Delaney's eyes rolling, sighing in defeat once again.

"I know that's what  it sounds like—"

"You're right" I interrupted, "That's exactly what it sounds like. It sounds like you're buttering me up so your mom will leave you alone"

"I'm not buttering you— Okay, stop. Listen. I'm here because I want to be. They think I'm eating out back with the bunnies— Don't ask" She warned, "Instead of sitting in here with you. I'm just bringing up that you're welcome to join family dinner. It isn't a big deal. You're talked about at the table anyway, might as well be there to hear what they're saying"

"I don't want to hear what they're saying" I stated, already knowing that if there was a problem, it would've been said already.

"Fine. Just know my mom won't let this go. She holds grudges like a mother" Delaney giggled, wiggling her eyebrows before taking another drink of the lemonade. "Anyway, what do you think of the lemonade? My sister Morgan brought it. I love lemonade and she claims everyone needs a drink or two here and there"

Morgan? She has another sister?

"Why aren't you eating with your family, Delaney?" I asked; exhausted.

I just wanted to be alone. To decompress from today. Instead, I sat at this tiny ass table with a girl who seemed to be playing chess whilst I'm playing checkers. 

 "Do you really want me to leave that badly?" She asked, sounding surprised that my statement of liking to eat alone held more truth than expected.

"I'm tired, Delaney. I want to eat my food in silence. Get ready for me, and be unconscious until my alarm goes off at four fifteen" 

"Jesus Christ, four fifteen?"

"Delaney. Whatever it is you're getting at, get there. I'm too fucking tired to try and decode whatever is going on" I snapped, hating the way she flinched as her nose twitched; glancing away from me.

"There is no ulterior motive, Harry. Sure it seems like I'm begging you to go to a family dinner. I'm just relaying the information. I can respect your boundaries if you do not want to come. Why do you think no one has forced you?" She asked, looking ready to keep talking when I interrupted her.

"You're here. In my personal space. That I requested. You're forcing yourself on me either way" 

She stared at me for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Okay. I apologize for not respecting your boundaries. I'll leave" She excused herself, reaching for her lemonade and plate, scooting out of the chair and turning to leave.

I heard the clink of the bottle being set on the counter as she opened the door before grabbing it again and walking out, leaving the door wide open.

I growled as I exhaled, getting up to close the door only to see her walking down the road instead of turning left, back down the pathway that led to the main house.

Why isn't she going home? 

I stood in the doorway for a few seconds, watching her trail down the dirt road before turning left and sitting down in the grass.

What is she doing?

I slowly closed my door, going to sit back at my table, only to look out the kitchen window and see two big white dogs were next to her now and she appeared to be talking, before handing them something.

I couldn't help but stare at her as I ate dinner, watching her eat her own food, drinking her lemonade and petting the big white giant ass dog that I rarely saw.

As I was washing my dish, I watched her get up, the dogs following her up the dirt driveway, headed towards the main house. The second she was out of view, I felt a tightness in my chest as I realized I could no longer see what she was doing; nor ask why she sat with two dogs instead of joining her family.

The following night I awaited my food to come, feeling an anticipation swirl around in my stomach as I awaited Delaney's' presence, The knock on the door making dopamine rush through me as I opened the door, only to be met with a girl I've never seen before holding a plate of food and a bowl of what looked to be some sort of vegetables mixed into potatoes.

"Your dinner" She said and I nodded, grabbing the food, watching her turn around and walk away before I could even think about saying something; leaving me standing gobsmacked in the entrance of my home.

I couldn't help but think; Delaney would never.

* * * * 

I've redone this chapter so many times. I should be committed into an insane asylum for this chapter alone🤪

For how many times I've read through this, there better not be any errors lol

Written on: September 28th 2023

Published on: September 28th 2023

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter Six

[systemgoblincore]

2, 6,9,12,14,15,26!

2: do you ever read/reread your fics?

Often unintentionally, yes!

6: are there any fics from others that you reread all the time?

Constantly, actually. There's so many bedrock bros fics that we've reread more than once as we love them so much. As well as a handful of jimmy/tango rancher goodness fics, too! Plus, exactly three Harry Potter fic series, as they were a big part of our summers to pass the time as a wee lad. (I will make a second post with links to all of them shortly!!)

9: do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you've written!

I try to, but oftentimes end up not hitting that mark. That said!

"Schlatt, you know damn well what you pay me for, intel. Nothing more, nothing less." Tord hissed, "Our relationship is a dual edge sword, careful now. Wouldn't want to get stabbed now, would we?"

12: do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!

does it count as a playlist if it's a handful of songs?

If so here; https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6FWmu40hGqQkATdBplxbYF?si=uHI2hzRuSHuJ3d5RLiMEAA

14: if you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Personally? I'd love to see YHIS AU adapted into a film like Repo man a genetic opera. I think the combination of film, musical/opera and the insanely well done comic book style animation featured in the film at points would work well with the main au. Not to mention the stylistic choices on how it handled gore is nice, though personally if given a true choice there I'd think if it was handled more like Sweeny Todd dealt with blood it would be more striking. I have many thoughts on this. And even though the fic hasn't been truly written yet I look at you with autistic eyes.

15: how do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

The age ole "pick a song and lyrics from it" for most of them. Baby It's Cold Outside is the exception. Since I took the title from a wilbur soot cover and the chapter titles are all cheesy winter related puns. I am tempted to keep this trend as it was very fun to do.

26: is there something you've written you wouldn't want your family to see?

No comment (all of the fics we write out of an unwillingness to explain shit)

[habitualharrystan]

I see Harry Styles in a little pair of jeans and I know he’s just a white boy with a little butt, but i can’t help but want to suck him like a goddamn jolly rancher. I’m sorry and I will be resigning.