#stetson cap

[leviabeat]

Michael with the guys from Grave

Via Asinhell on Instagram

Bonus! Michael's Grave ring

[dullahandyke]

GIVE ME YOUR LOVE GIVE ME YOUR LOVE GIVE ME YOUR LOVE MORE, OH MORE, OH GIVE ME YOUR LOVE GIVE ME YOUR LOVE! GOING INSANE BY LOVE SO MUCH!

[roughridingrednecks]

Stetson

[revshoggoth]

Nice thing about being an artist is you can wear basically any kind of hat and it’s fine. You’re weird. People aren’t going to question it if you start wearing a fedora or a cowboy hat or a fez. Sure we like to goof about Pharrell’s big hat but who’s going to give him shit? He’s a musician. Musicians wear funny hats. Especially musicians. What’s that thing that lives in Ton Waits’ head? Ah well he’s a musician it’s to be expected. Flat cat? Top hat? Elmer Fudd hunting cap? Yeah of course you wear that.

Porkpies are still tricky though.

[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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[radioisodoped]

The sun had just barely come up when you started packing up your things, a couple rays of light streaming into the room and warming your back as you stuff whatever you can manage into your bag. The next settlement is a two-day hike away, but you’ve got plenty of supplies. You’ll manage. Once the spoils of yesterday’s scavenge are safely put away, you make your way to the stairs. The wooden steps creak as you make your way down, idly considering which road out of town would be best.

Stepping down onto the landing, you see his boots first. One leg casually crossed over the other on the dust-covered table. He’s already got his hand cannon pointed right at you, gloved finger steady on the trigger.

“Come chat, sugar. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’.” he drawls, smoke billowing out from under his tipped hat. A bloom of anger grows in your stomach when you see he’s gone through at least half the pack of cigarettes you had stashed away. Half your whiskey too, you knew you were missing something. Bastard. All of that was worth at least a small handful of caps.

You glance to the front door, your barricade still in place. A low whistle interrupts your thoughts.

“Where’s your hospitality? C’mon now, come and say hello.”

He punctuates it by motioning to the table with his gun. Bastard. You walk over, dropping your bag at his feet. Casual house calls aren’t something you associate with him. Before you can ask what he needs, he interrupts you. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

You doubt it. His hand couldn’t be steadier as you pull out a chair for yourself.

You get halfway through asking what he’s doing here before he interrupts again. “I’m still waitin’ on a ‘hello, how are ya’. Where are your manners?”

The games are getting old. You ignore his question and level your best unimpressed look at him.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer a response. You try not to let it phase you, reaching across his legs to grab the bottle of whiskey before you speak again. “If you are, I’d appreciate a heads up. Maybe even some last words, if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “You and me both know I ain’t the generous sort. Though, that has nothin’ to do with whether you’ll die today.”

You take a swig from the bottle, watching out of the corner of your eye as he sets his gun down on the table. You’d never let him know it, but you’re a little relieved.

Another swig for courage and his gun out of hand, you feel yourself loosening up. The pretty little .44 holstered on your thigh could take the leg off a brahmin. You flirt with the notion of wrapping your hand around it and shooting him right through the ribs. Oh, you’d die. That’s an absolute certainty. He'd have bits of your head sprayed all over the room before you could get a second shot in. It’d almost be worth it to fuck up his day, though.

You watch him take a drag off of one of your cigarettes and a different thought forces its way to the front. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve earned your way out of a sticky situation

It won't be the last, either. You'll make sure of it. With death still on the table, you loosen your grip on the bottle and let it hang loosely from your fingers so the rim is just barely brushing over your bottom lip.

He tips his Stetson up and you can finally see his eyes, watch the slow drag of his gaze from your fingers to your mouth. You part your lips just enough that the tip of your tongue can pick up a drop of booze that's settled in the mouth of the bottle.

He smiles, half amused. You'll take it. With a small shake of his head, he speaks again. "I'm not here to kill ya, sweetheart, but I am here on business."

"Color me shocked." you mumble, "And here I thought you just missed my pretty face."

"Why can't it be both?"

You make a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, setting down the bottle. "Careful, Casanova. Keep that up and I might start thinking you like me."

Burnt lips split into a sleazy grin, cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "'Course I like you. Don't you remember when we first met?"

Your face heats. That memory had kept you warm on plenty of lonely nights. You'd guess with the way he's looking at you, he's just as fond of it. A little teasing wouldn't hurt, and you're not in the mood to inflate his ego any more than it already is.

"Which time was that?" you ask, leaning back and pulling your eyebrows together to mock a thoughtful look. "The one where you left me on my knees without returning the favor, or the second time you left without getting me off?"

His smile doesn't drop, but you see a muscle in his burned cheek twitch. You hit a nerve. Good. You haven't forgotten how he neglected all of yours.

"Last time wasn't my fault. You knew better than to get handsy somewhere we might get caught." he drawls, most of the humor gone from his tone. He had a point- that was a mess. And mostly your fault. You still had the scar to remember it. He tilts his head, continuing on. "That first time, though? I didn't owe you shit. Besides, with the way you're still running your mouth... Well, clearly I didn't use it hard enough for you to learn anything. Seems to me you got the better deal out of that bargain."

Not one to be outdone, you stand. His eyes follow your every move, watching as you walk over. He barely has time to drop his boots back onto the ground before you straddle his lap, his spurs clinking as he settles. He's already hard when you grind down against him, steadying yourself by gripping his jacket. He does nothing to help, just leans back and reaches for your leg. You arch your back, welcoming the touch, but he just unbuckles your thigh holster, throwing your .44 on the table beside his own gun.

You roll your eyes, rocking your hips again. "Paranoid old man. If I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were eyefucking me."

He laughs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the table while he responds. "You should've. Would've made me want you even more."

"Do you get this hard for everyone you're going to kill?"

He spreads his thighs beneath you, his hands landing on your hips to keep you flush with his bulge as he readjusts. "'Course not, darling. Just brats like you.”

You’ve never wanted someone inside you more in your life. You ache with it. You reach down to fight with his belt buckle and he snickers. “Slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re the kind of person who’d complain if you were bein’ hung with a gold rope.”

“Yeah, well, at least I know the rope can get the job done.”

You don’t have time to bask in the jab before you're sliding off his lap, surprised to find him suddenly standing. His hand wraps around your throat before he wrestles you down onto the rickety table. The whole thing shakes under your back, threatening to break under the strain of your struggle.

“You got a big fuckin’ mouth on you.” He sneers, leaning down close and narrowing his eyes. “I oughta not let you get off again just to prove a point.”

“All that would do is prove me right. You aren’t good for shit outside of killing-“

The slap shocks you. You’re suddenly looking at the wall, the taste of blood coating your tongue. A beat. Then another. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is pressed right up against where you need him. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You crazy, insatiable bitch.”

He pulls his hand back, unbuckling his belt with a practiced motion that stokes the fire in your stomach. He slips his cock out unceremoniously, glove dragging over ridged skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart. I ain’t wastin’ any more time gettin’ you worked up. I told you I didn’t come for fun.”

Clothes are ripped and forced out of the way, his cock head pressing against your hole. He finally pushes in and you bite your lip, throwing your head back to stare at the stained ceiling as you moan out. “Yeah, but you’ll come for me, right?”

He hums, grabbing at your hips to pull you the rest of the way down his cock. “I always do.”

You choke on a moan, nails digging into the wood beneath you when he bottoms out. The whole table rocks as he thrusts into you, slow at first but gaining momentum quickly. This house was one of the safer places to be, but he wouldn’t afford you the luxury of a gentle fuck.

You know he could, if he wanted to. The grip on your hips isn’t painful, despite the punishing pace he’s set. There's something soft, reverent, in the way his hands drift over your clothes. Not like the way he touched you every other time you've had the privilege of his hands on you.

You're starting to think he really does like you.

The revelation unsettles you a bit. Not in a bad way, necessarily. You just didn't think he was capable of it. You watch the muscles in his neck tense as he holds back noises. You've bitten your lip raw for the same reason.

It's been a while for you. You'd had people since him, sure... but it wasn't the same. Never as satisfying as this. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think he might agree. He grunts and leans on one arm beside your head, chasing his own release. You want to make some smart quip, reminding him to slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart, but you think better of it. Your jaw still aches from the slap.

It's not long before he's unloading inside you with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips twitch against you. An unnatural heat reminds you to look for some radaway once he's gone, but you're distracted by his hand slipping between your bodies. Embarrassingly, it doesn't take much. Rusty or not, he knows how to use his fingers. The fabric of his glove drags along just right and you keen, back arching as you come around his cock.

He lets you ride the high, only pulling away when you go limp and start to pant. He pulls out, leaving you looking like a mess as he readjusts himself. He could still kill you. He might, honestly. You couldn't give less of a fuck if you tried. He holsters his gun as your eyes shut, enjoying the afterglow. Of course, he doesn't let you rest long.

“That was an awful nice treat, but we got things to do. Up and at ‘em, darlin'." He slaps the side of your thigh with a smile, jolting you out of your reverie. "We’re goin’ on a field trip.”

[thicc-ray-of-sunshine]

Of course he had to be there, why wouldn't he? The very object of your frustration right in the very spot you came to cool off. You'd recognize that stupid busted up stetson anywhere. He was lounging back, long legs posted up on the table in front of him while his chair was tipped back. Part of you itched to swipe your foot under it and knock his chair down, taking the smug grin he was giving you with it. You turned back to the bar with a huff and ordered two fingers of whiskey from James. Typically you were a nuka cola and rum kinda girl but tonight you were here to get drunk and needed something with some bite to it, especially since you knew there was no way you were going to avoid Cooper.

Realistically you didn't really have anything to be mad about, it was the wasteland after all so of course nobodys gonna be upfront or honest so you really shouldn't have been surprised when he jilted you and skipped town with three quarters of your radaway. He at least had the decency to leave you some caps but overall your profits took a hit because of the whole debacle. Well that and your pride. But that wasn't really what you were mad about, no not at all, you were upset because you wanted him, pure and simple. It was all encompassing and ate at you every time you even thought about his weathered face and dangerous demeanor. Sure he was mean but you always liked it when men had some bite, it was more of a snark anyway.

James offering you your drink pulled you out of yourself. You took your whiskey in hand and knocked it back, willing your face to not scrunch up at the harsh feeling it left in your throat. Speaking of keeping cool, you were having an increasingly hard time ignoring the stare Cooper was burning into the back of your head. Taking a deep breath and sliding your caps onto the countertop you slowly turned in your seat. As suspected he was just staring at you, his body relaxed and languid in his chair, drink held loosely in our and and a smoke in the other while his eyes pinned you with a stare that made you feel like you were on fire. You watched him as he clicked his teeth together and tilted his head to the side, motioning you over. Again you felt anger welling up underneath your skin at his smug attitude, yet that wasn't the only thing that was itching at you.

It didn't help that he downright grinned when you stood up and wandered over to him. You chose to stand in front of him, a little to the left of his legs but enough to be directly in his line of sight, hands crossed over your chest, displaying your displeasure.

"Aw it ain't gotta be like that sweetheart. It ain't like I did nothing untoward."

He said playfully as he leaned forward and set his glass on the table.

"Yeah nothing but stealing my shit. Totally normal friendly behavior."

You retorted, cocking your hip, knocking against his crossed legs at the thigh.

"You still owe me for that by the way. Not too pleased to have been robbed, especially after giving you some of my supplies on the house."

His eyes followed the line of your body down to where your hip touched him, giving you a brazen up and down that had you barely suppressing a shiver.

He took a long drag from his cigarette before he spoke again, eyes never leaving yours.

"You and I both know that ain't what this is 'bout darlin. You're mad because I left you high and dry."

You didn't know what to say, the way he said it was so matter-o-factly, like he was making fun of you. Yet the look on his face was damn near salacious. You felt naked, uncomfortable and unbearably angry that he had the absolute gall to even say something like that. Before you could even think about raising your hand to slap him you felt pressure on the small of your back your whole body suddenly tipping forward. Just as quick as you fell, you were hauled up into Coopers lap. Some part of your brain registered that he had kicked you but the rest of it was focused on the sudden close proximity and the gloved hand that had made its way to your hip. You watched him through your lashes as he worked his cigarette in his mouth before he exhaled, leaving you in a haze that burned your nostrils.

"So how 'bout we cut the shit and you let me show you what you've been missing out on?"

[trickphotography2]

'tis the damn season | Chapter 10

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 11.5K (sorry, she's a beast)

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 9 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 10

Thunder rumbled, and the wind rustled the tall grass. The stems tickled his ear, and Jake absently moved it away before sighing and lifting his hat from his face to squint up at the sky. Grey clouds were rolling in from the west, and he’d seen the cows lying down in the field as he rode to his favorite spot on the property after finishing chores.

The twinge in his knee was right - an August storm was coming in. 

Sighing, Jake settled the hat back on his face, blocking the sun. Mama had dug his old Stetson from the closet the first day he’d returned with a sunburned face after working outside with Will to replace a section of fence that’d come down in a windstorm. When he’d looked for his Longhorns cap the next day, it was drip-drying in the shower. Mama’d claimed she just wanted to wash it for him, but who washed ball caps first thing in the morning? 

A second clap of thunder boomed, followed by a cow bellowing. Starlight, his favorite mare, tossed her head and snorted, foot stomping. Groaning, he slowly sat up, setting his hat on his head and grimacing at the twinge in his lower back. Even months after the ejection, he was still stiff and sore if he spent too much time sitting still. Lying on the ground certainly didn’t help. But he was tired after doing his chores, and it was easier to deal with the nightmares when he didn’t have to worry about his folks hearing him toss and turn. The flight surgeon assured him they’d go away with time, just like he needed to give his back and knee time to heal. The SEALs medic had stabilized his left knee, but trekking eight miles over rough terrain to the rendezvous point on a torn ACL hadn’t been fun. Neither had the surgery in Landstuhl, Germany after he’d been med-evaced from the carrier. But thankfully, he’d been able to get shipped back home shortly after, reaching the States just a few weeks after Rooster and the rest of the SEAL team did. The success of their mission was already making national headlines. Jake knew his next promotion was guaranteed, but it didn’t matter.

Because when he’d been lying in that bed in Germany, the one person he’d wanted to talk to hadn’t picked up her phone. 

He’d known there was a chance Cece wouldn’t answer when he’d called. In their last conversation before he shipped out - permission was granted for a last minute to contact his loved ones - he’d pleaded with her to distract him, and she told him her travel plans, voice brimming with excitement. Pops confirmed she was overseas when they talked after his surgery. He’d offered to call and let her know what was happening, but Jake told him not to bother. Despite his family’s disapproval, he held firm to it - the last thing he wanted was Cece to come back to him only because he was injured. But in his darker moments, he was mad and hurt. He hated being alone in his hospital room. Wanted to see her when he got off the plane. And as much as he appreciated Mama flying out to help him get around his apartment those first few weeks, Jake selfishly wanted Cece. 

But they’d agreed to take the time apart to think. The sight of her tear-stained face that night in January when they’d stayed up until 4:00 AM on a video call still haunted him. The exhaustion he’d felt when they finally hung up wasn’t just physical. The conversation had been a long time coming, but he still hadn’t been prepared. Cece’s voice had broken so many times on that call when she finally opened up to him. Jake was forced to reckon with the fact that, while he’d thought their relationship was perfect, the woman he loved had been miserable for a long time - and he’d been too blinded to see it. Like everyone else, he’d fallen for Cece’s bright smiles and claims that everything was alright. But those smiles were gone, replaced with hurt, anger, and exhaustion as she filled in her side of their love story. 

Going to college across the country was a temporary challenge that would pay off once he graduated and they were back together. But where he’d been on a straight and narrow path toward their dream, Cece struggled to reconcile the woman she was becoming with the girl who had agreed to something she didn’t quite understand. Their spring break trips to South Carolina were fun but another example of Jake’s unspoken expectation that she accommodate him and his career - that she would follow where he led. What he’d seen as a simple request for her to come to him, to remember that his college experience was different than hers, she’d taken as a glimpse into their future. 

Jake regretted his bitter, sarcastic apology for failing her tests when he was a stupid kid. His hissed accusations that she could have talked to him instead of her friends, who dripped poison into her ears that he didn’t care about her if he wouldn’t do something so simple as go on a vacation of her choosing. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you to Florida. We can go when I get back if you - ”

“It’s not about Florida!” Cece yelled, hands flying to cover her face as she sat on her bed. “It was about doing something I wanted for a change - somethin’ that would make me happy, even if it was inconvenient for you.”

“Are you sayin’ I didn’t make you happy?”

“I’m sayin’ you never tried. You never had to choose between what you wanted and what I wanted. And part of that’s my fault because I stopped pushing. But I did that because I knew what you would say - that you would tell me how tired you were between classes and training. You wouldn’t be home for long over the summer because you would be training on different things and traveling. And you wanted to spend as much time together as possible, and it’d be easier for me to come to you.”

“It was easier - you just had to work around your classes - ” 

“And my job and friends, coming home to see Daddy, and my plans. But those didn’t matter to you because you wanted to spend a week in a shitty hotel with your friends, getting drunk on the beach.”

“Which is what we probably would have done in Florida!” 

“Maybe! But we’ll never know, will we?”

They’d taken a break after that, and the whiskey still burned in Jake's throat when they got back on camera. It was clear that Cece had been crying, and the hand holding her water glass shook when they talked through her move to Virginia. It hurt to hear that she’d had doubts about their future when he’d proposed but thought this could be the fresh start they’d needed. “But it felt like y’all were laughing at me behind my back that day at the beach when I found out you were deploying.”

“I didn’t know until I got there, and you were already… I didn’t know.” 

“But you didn’t tell me when you found out. You kept it from me.” 

“Would you have come?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“And that’s why I didn’t tell you,” he’d said, letting out a frustrated huff. “We’d already been apart five years, and the deployment woulda been one more excuse to keep us apart. You wouldn’ta come there.” 

“I don’t know if I would or if I wouldn’t have because I wasn’t given that choice. You took that from me.” 

“What were you gonna do?” Jake demanded. “You’d already quit your job and packed up. Our future was in Virginia, whether I was there or not.” 

“I could have come back here,” Cece’d shot back, throwing her arms out and motioning to her house. “I coulda spent that time with Daddy. Or stayed in Austin.”

“I was only gonna be gone for seven months.” 

“And you spent almost six lying to me.” 

“We could have had six months together, but you left after two. You didn’t even give us a chance to figure it out before you left. You knew what we were going up against with me going into the Navy, and at the first sign of it being hard, you cut and ran.” 

Her laugh was full of disbelief, bordering on hysterics. She’d moved so fast that her computer turned over, and Jake glimpsed her pacing as the camera pointed at the ceiling. “The first sign?” she muttered to herself. He waited as she walked through her house, setting the laptop on the kitchen counter as she rummaged in a cabinet. 

“Cece.” But she ignored him, retrieving a bottle of whiskey and taking a swig. A grimace crossed her face as she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Baby - ”

“The first sign of it being hard?” she chuckled. “Maybe it was the first sign for you, but I had five years of hard. I didn’t know what we were getting into when you said you wanted to join the Navy, Jake. You looked into it and told me what our life would be like, and I just blindly trusted you. And that’s my fault. I didn’t think about the fact that my whole life would revolve around you and your career, and there was nothing I could do to change that.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” she shot back. “My hopes and wants and dreams didn’t matter because the minute you decided what you wanted, that was it. That’s what we were doing.”

“You make it sound like I forced you. You had a choice every step of the way,” he snapped. 

“Between letting you steamroll me or losing you?” A sob broke her voice as she shook her head. “I’m sorry I was a stupid kid who thought loving you was enough.” 

I love you too. And I always will. But I don’t know if that’s enough.

Those words had echoed through his head for years after she left, and he was afraid of hearing them again at that moment. “You say I steamrolled you,” he sighed, “but you never talked to me. You just stay quiet and smile and make me think everything’s okay until you're already out the goddamn door. I’m not a mind reader! You have to tell me what’s goin’ on with you, or I’m gonna assume things are fine.” They stared at one another for a long moment before he cleared his throat. “Were you pregnant after we… after the bar?” 

“No.” Jake was relieved to hear her quick answer and nodded.

“Have you ever been pregnant with our…?”

“No, never.” Shoulders falling, he let his head hang while running a hand down his face. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that - that the woman he loved hadn’t betrayed him to the level of his ex by keeping a kid from him. “No matter what was goin’ on with us, I would have told you if I was… if there’d been…” 

Jake replayed their fight over and over in his head during his deployment. And when sleep evaded, he recalled the sight of her falling asleep in his arms, eyelashes dusting the tops of her cheeks as she murmured, “I love you, Farm Boy.” It was her face that he focused on when he pulled the ejection handle, as he screamed when his leg caught under his seat and the ligament tore. The promise of getting home to see her and meet baby Tyler, hugging his parents and Will and Ally kept him going when all he wanted to do was give into the pain and stop. 

But he still hadn’t picked up the damn phone since getting back stateside. They’d promised each other time. Jake knew where he stood when it came to them. But she’d accused him of steamrolling her, and he was trying to be better. He wouldn’t let an injury manipulate her back into his arms.

Movement drew his eye. Will leaned out the driver’s side of the old beat-up farm truck, tapping the horn to get his attention. Jake pushed to his feet, fighting against his stiff, injured knee, and nearly fell on his ass as a result. For as much as he was making sure to keep up with his PT, there were still days when it felt like his body was going backward with its recovery. The docs told him to be patient - that he was on track to get back into his jet in a few months - but struggling down a flight of stairs without clinging to the railing for stability made him doubt that. Rather than sit at his desk and recover, he’d decided to burn the vacation hours nearing use or lose territory. A month in Magnolia was better than one watching his friends tiptoe around him. 

“Your ears as busted as your knee?” Will asked, pulling to a stop. Jake flipped him the bird, carefully putting weight on his leg. The last thing he wanted was for it to give out in front of his big brother. “Storm’s comin’ in, and Mama’s got an errand she wants you to run.” 

“Can’t you do it?” Jake sighed, hobbling toward Starlight and turning his back to the truck, hiding the wince of pain. He’d gone too long without taking his meds. 

“Nope. Need a hand there, old man?” Ignoring him, Jake retrieved the saddle he’d removed, wishing his brother would leave. Mounting would be painful enough without an audience. He’d overdone it that morning with chores. When his physical therapist told him moving would help his recovery, he probably didn’t mean getting a couple hundred cows into their milking bays. “Happy to ride her back if you wanna take the truck.”

“I’m fine.” 

“Suit yourself. Don’t get caught in the rain,” Will said, glancing back at the gathering clouds while pulling away. After checking the girth strap and saddle were secure, Jake grabbed the hackmore and stroked Star’s muzzle. She pressed into his hands, almost knocking him off his feet, and he chuckled. Once she was situated, he took a steeling breath while patting her neck and moving to her side. Taking the reins in his left hand, he grasped her mane and used his right to turn the stirrup toward him. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he lifted his left leg. His muscles shook with the effort, knee refusing to bend enough to slip his boot into the stirrup. Dropping his foot back to the ground, he cursed under his breath. For someone who’d ridden since before he could walk, it was embarrassing not to be able to mount a horse. 

For fuck’s sake, he’d ridden Broncos bareback for a year when he was 16 before taking a nasty fall and breaking his collarbone. Shortly after, Mama ended that particular hobby, offering to let him barrel race instead. Jake declined. 

Gritting his teeth, he tried again, the tip of his boot grazing Star’s side but not slipping into place. After failing for a third time, he lowered his head, the brim of his hat grazing the horse’s shoulder, and forced himself to take a deep breath. Another clap of thunder boomed, and Jake spotted a sheet of rain moving in from the west. Cursing again, he shifted to Star’s right side. Holding the reins in his right hand felt awkward, fingers twined in her mane when he carefully lifted his right leg, hesitantly putting his full weight on the left. When it buckled, he quickly dropped his foot and steadied himself. “I’m not fuckin’ walking back,” Jake grunted, looking around for something that would serve as a mounting block. He felt a slight twinge of regret for letting his pride get in the way of taking the truck. Frustration with his body not working the way he wanted it to quickly overrode it. 

If he couldn’t mount his damn horse, how the hell was he supposed to climb the ladder into his fucking jet?

Tightening his grip on her mane, Jake took a deep breath. His bum knee only needed to hold long enough to settle his foot in the stirrup. Starlight nickered, ears flicking as she shifted with another boom of thunder. “I know, girl,” he muttered. “Just hold still for me.” Forcing himself to take a few even breaths, he adjusted the stirrup. He’d need to move fast - the balancing exercises the PT gave him were still a struggle, and the last thing he wanted to do was fall on his ass. Mentally counting down, Jake gritted his teeth, gripping the handful of mane and horn tightly. Quickly, he lifted his right leg and jammed it onto the stirrup, feeling it hit the heel of his boot, and stood, swinging his left leg over her hindquarters. Star started as he dropped heavily into the saddle, settling when he gave the reins a quick tug. Grinning to himself, he managed to get his left foot situated and adjusted his seat before taking off his hat and rubbing his sleeve to his forehead. 

Loosening the reins, Jake pressed his heels into her side to get her moving. “Ready to beat the storm home?” he asked, chuckling when she tossed her head. Taking that as an affirmative, he gave Star her head and kicked her into a gallop. Leaning forward in the tack, he pushed onto his feet to give her more room, ignoring his throbbing knee. His hand flew up to keep his hat in place, and Jake couldn’t keep the whoop of joy from bursting out. 

As much as he loved that moment of anticipation before the catapult shot his jet off the carrier, nothing could compare to riding under the open Texas sky. 

When they neared the barn, Jake reluctantly reined her in. Star wasn’t happy as she was forced into a trot - at six years old, she was relatively new to working and still high-spirited. A few feet from the barn, he felt her muscles bunch and watched her ears flick back, tail swishing. She started dancing and hopped, and he quickly tugged the left rein, forcing Star to turn in a circle to keep her from bucking. Getting thrown in the field, where the grass would mostly cushion his fall, was one thing, but he sure as hell didn’t want to hit the hard-packed dirt and have to explain to the flight surgeon why his return to duty had to be pushed back. 

“You got her?” Mama asked, stepping out of one of the stalls. Jake didn’t take his eyes off Star and nodded. “Watch your uncle,” Mama said, and he shot a glance over to see five-month-old Tyler watching him from the pack-and-play everyone fondly called the baby jail. Since Ally had gone back to work - chomping at the bit to get back to taking care of her large animal vet practice after Will managed to talk her into taking four months off - Ty spent days being passed around the Seresins at home. Having been relegated to driving the truck so Will could pitch hay and Pops could check the machinery before the morning milking, Jake spent a lot of time with his nephew sleeping in his car seat beside him. 

Starlight settled with an annoyed stop of her foot, and he took the opportunity to dismount quickly. His left knee buckled when his foot hit the ground, but he stayed upright. Patting the mare’s neck, he flicked the reins over her head and led her to her stall. “Will said you needed me to run an errand?” he said, glancing at Mama. He caught her narrowed-eyed examination of his limp and forced himself to ignore it. Working quickly to remove the tack, he murmured an ‘excuse me’ while moving past her to put it away.

“Don’t worry about brushin’ her - I’ll get it. I need you to run to the grocery store for me.” Biting back a groan, he turned to face her. 

“Can’t Will do it?”

“No, I’m asking you.” The stern look she pinned him was so familiar that he felt like a kid again. For the two weeks he’d been home, Jake was reluctant to leave the farm. Will dragged him to Mickey’s one night for a late toast to him becoming a father, and he’d made a few runs to the feed store with Pops, but he hated how people watched him. The way they stopped him, asking why he was home, for how long, and why he was limping. Betty Roberts had quickly turned away when he glared at her, remembering her cruel words to Cece those few months ago. Hell, even the attention he got from the women in town was annoying. The last thing he wanted to do was flirt with someone who’d grown up seeing him in love with Cece and was taking advantage of the fact that she was away to try and get his attention.  

And if he got one more damn question about his ex.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Shayla. After posting his video, she started losing brand deals, and companies moved away from working with her. While he hadn’t set out intending to hurt her career, Jake wasn’t upset to see it happen. If he and Cece were facing backlash in their jobs, Shayla sure as hell deserved to go down as well. He wasn’t keeping tabs on her, but he’d overheard a loudly whispered conversation at the gas station about her seeing a minor league basketball player. Jake wished the man all the luck in the world - he’d need it to be with a conniving witch like her. 

“There’s a list on the fridge.”

“Can I take Ty with me?” he asked, grinning as he dusted his hands on his jeans and walked over to lift his nephew from the jail. The baby gave him a gummy smile as Jake kissed his chubby cheek and settled him in the crook of his arm. 

“Ally’s on her way to get him.” Sighing, he kissed Ty again and passed him into Mama’s outstretched arms. Even with two weeks left on leave, Jake dreaded going home and not seeing the little guy every day. He’d need to be better about coming home and seeing the family. 

“Call me if you think of anything else you need,” Jake said after a beat. Mama just nodded and bounced her grandson on her hip, tapping his nose. 

“Might check with Ally to see if she needs you to pick up some diapers.” Nodding, he turned and made his way back to the house, sipping a coffee while perusing the shopping list. His eyebrows knit together as he read the random list and walked to the pantry to double-check that the canister of coffee was still mostly full - he’d just opened it a few days ago. 

“What’re you still doin’ here?” a voice asked, and Jake glanced up to see his sister-in-law frowning at him. “Didn’t Mama tell you to go to the store?” 

“I’m on my way. You need anything?”

“Yeah, your ass outta here,” she scoffed, not meeting his gaze as she looked around the kitchen, setting her paper cup from the new coffee shop down on the counter. “Where’s my baby?”

“The barn with Mama.” Smiling, she walked past him, not pausing as her hand smacked his arm. “Hurry up, Uncle Jakey.” 

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his boots from by the back door. The sooner he left, the sooner he could get home and relax.

The cart rattled annoyingly as Jake rounded the corner in the produce section. Mama wanted fresh corn for dinner, but the ears in the bin didn’t look good. The Adams farm stand was on the drive home, so he’d probably stop and grab some. After adding a package of strawberries to the cart, he moved into the dried goods section. Keeping his gaze on the list in hand, he ignored the whispers and side-eyed glances from the other patrons. Going down the coffee aisle, he scanned the shelves, reached for a can, and tossed it into the cart. Jake grabbed the handles and turned around, stopping in his tracks, breath catching in his throat. 

“Oh.” Cece’s eyebrows shot up, her lips parting in surprise. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jake struggled to get the word out around the lump in his throat, which came out half-strangled. “I thought - ” 

“I didn’t - ” Their voices overlapped, and they fell silent, waiting for the other to speak. “You - ”

“When - ” It happened again. “You first.”

“I didn’t realize you were home,” Cece said after a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah. For a few weeks. When did you get back?”

“Last night. When - ”

“Where - ” He smiled at her nervous laugh, and she motioned for him to go. “Where were you?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled with her blinding smile. “New York. I stayed a few days in the city on my way back from Paris.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I think I ate my weight in macarons while I was there.”

“Well, you look great.” And she did. The dark circles under her eyes were gone, and she seemed more contented…. happier, and confident. A cute pink flush colored her cheeks, and he caught her appreciative look at his hat and how his t-shirt clung to his arms.  

“You too. Everything went okay with…?” Concern clouded Cece's face, and he forced himself to stand straight, ignoring the twinge in his knee.

“It was rough, but everyone got back in one piece.” 

“Good.” Something flickered in her eyes, and he watched her lift a coffee cup from the new shop to her lips, her gaze flicking to the shelves. Her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop, and his grip on the handles tightened. “Have you been home long?” 

“From the mission or in Magnolia?” 

“Both.” 

“I’ve been here about two weeks, but I got back stateside about a month and a half ago. Are you, uh… are you gonna be here for a while, or just passin’ through?” Movement over her shoulder caught his attention. A woman pushed her cart toward them, openly staring. Jake shifted his cart in front of Cece’s before moving back to her side. Cece’s eyes flitted toward the woman, and she waited until she was gone before shrugging.

“I’m gonna be here a while. Got some stuff I need to take care of before hitting the road again.” 

“Where are you heading to next?” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she shrugged. 

“I’ve got a couple of places in mind.” The hint of mischief in her eyes had Jake shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. It felt like ages since he’d seen that look. 

“Have dinner with me.” The request was out of his mouth before his brain caught up. But Cece just smiled and shook her head.

“I already told Ally that I’ve got plans tonight.” His flicker of worry that she might be meeting up with the firefighter was quickly stifled when she added, “Lucy made me promise to come.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be there for breakfast.”

“Great - have dinner with me. I wanna hear about everywhere you’ve been.” While his palm itched to curve around her cheek and kiss away that indecisive look on her face, Jake contented himself with reaching for her hand. Catching her fingers, he squeezed lightly. “Please, Cupcake?” 

Her gaze focused over his shoulder, and he turned to see the woman from before standing at the end of the aisle, talking to someone else as they both stared. Cece watched them when he turned back, and her eyes only moved to him when he stroked his thumb along her finger. It took a moment for him to realize it was her empty ring finger, where his engagement ring had once sat. “Alright.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I wanna hear how you’ve been, too.” Gently shaking off his hold, Cece reached up and flicked the brim of his hat. “It’s good to see you, Farm Boy.” It took all of Jake’s strength and discipline not to catch her wrist and pull her into his arms to kiss that smirk from her lips. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Though he could feel the stares as he finished his shopping, Jake didn’t care. The only thing that mattered were those fleeting glimpses of Cece in the aisles. Whenever they caught sight of one another, she rolled her eyes and smiled. Unsure of where she was, he tried his best not to limp. Too soon, he finished and headed to the checkout lines. When he stepped outside, the rain was coming down. The storm finally caught up with them. Ducking his head, he hurried across the parking lot and tossed his bags into the truck backseat. His shirt was damp and sticking to his skin, and water dripped from his hat when he finally got in after returning his cart. But instead of pulling out, he waited. 

For ten minutes, he kept his eyes trained on the front doors and was finally rewarded with the sight of Cece stepping outside. His hand gripped the door handle when an older man walked up behind her and tapped her shoulder. Jake recognized him from the firehouse - one of her daddy’s friends. But just as his foot hit the ground, he watched Cece shake her head and reach into her purse, pulling out an umbrella. Smiling, she stepped out from under the store awning and made her way to her SUV while the man headed in the opposite direction. 

Jake hesitated before shutting his door, watching Cece quickly load her car and return her cart. He couldn’t help but grin when she took her umbrella down and strolled back to her car, heedless of the pounding rain. 

His girl always enjoyed a good storm.

With the chores done and dinner finished, the Seresins went their separate ways. Will, Ally, and Ty were back at the foreman’s house, and Mama and Pops had decided to go into town for an ice cream. Jake declined their invitation, knowing he was getting a bit soft around the middle already with all the homecooked meals and strict orders to stay away from the gym until he was medically cleared. Instead, he saddled up one of the new geldings and went for a ride since the rain had blown through. 

Back under his tree, Jake gritted his teeth as he lay down, left knee bent and heel pressing into the dirt. It ached as he held the position for six seconds before relaxing for thirty and repeating. His physical therapist told him to do the exercises three times a day, and he hated doing them in front of his parents. He could see the worry in Mama’s eyes anytime she saw a flicker of pain in his face. Pops was kind enough to ignore it but would make sure that he took it easy on chores. 

If he was ever going to get back in his damn jet, he needed to push through the pain. He refused to be med-boarded out because of an ejection gone wrong. 

After twelve reps, he stretched his leg out, a moan escaping as his knee straightened. Letting gravity press it straight, he closed his eyes and knitted his fingers over his stomach. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his knee and sweat beading on his forehead. Blowing a breath through pursed lips, he let his knee bend slightly and banged his head back on the grass. “Fuck,” he huffed, knowing he needed to hold the position for at least twenty minutes. 

One of the worst parts about the exercise was that it made Jake stop. While he was moving, pushing away the memories of the mission and his nightmares was easy. But being forced to lie still allowed his mind to wander. To distract himself, he started running through the NATOPs for his jet, making him think about his friends. They were probably getting together at the Hard Deck for a drink and cursing him for not replying to their texts. Coyote had called him two days ago just to make sure he was still alive.

While he appreciated them checking in, Jake couldn’t help but feel jealous that they could still fly while he was grounded indefinitely. As happy as he was to take the SAM to ensure Rooster didn’t get shot down in hostile territory for the second time in as many years, it was still hard to contemplate that he might never feel the thrill of pulling G’s again. The roar of the engine and his seat rattling underneath him. The wind in his hair while standing on the deck of a carrier.

So as much as the exercises hurt, he’d do them every goddamn day to make sure he could get back up in the air. Gritting his teeth, he forced his knee straight again. 

Grunting, he stared at the darkening sky. The crickets were loud, and the fireflies started flickering in the fields. A smile tugged at his mouth as he remembered running through them with Will and Cece, scooping up the bugs in jars Mama put aside for them, and wondered if Ty would do the same when he was a bit older.

If he’d have siblings or cousins to help him with the hunt. 

A stab of regret hit him, and Jake couldn’t help but think about the baby that never was. If she hadn’t lied, he would have been getting ready for his little one to be born. The phantom weight of a baby on his chest was painful, and he cleared his throat. Whenever he thought of them, he’d always figured on having a son - after all, there hadn’t been a Seresin girl in a couple of generations. By now, the nursery would be finished, and he’d be so ready for the little man to arrive. But when he imagined the mother of his child, it wasn’t Shayla that he saw. He could picture Cece big with their child, teasing him as he catered to her every whim. She wouldn’t lift a finger while he was around to do it for her. 

Of all the things that bitch had done to him, going after Cece and giving him the hope of being a father was the worst.

The sound of a car broke the quiet, and he lifted his head to see the farm truck getting closer. The gelding pulled at his rope, and Jake quickly glanced over to make sure he wouldn’t bolt. Will would probably die laughing if his horse ran and make him walk back. But when the truck pulled to a stop, it wasn’t his brother who got out and slammed the door.  

Cece circled the truck and stared down at him, arms crossed over her chest. Jake lurched to his feet, hissing in pain when his bad knee protested the quick movement. “Hey.” His smile dropped when he saw tears shining in her eyes. “Honey?” he said softly. “Everything okay?” Her shoulders rose and fell as she tried to control her breathing, nostrils flaring as she stared at him. The tall grass licked her calves as she stormed toward him, fists clenched at her sides. “Hey, talk to me, Cece,” Jake pleaded while reaching for her.

Wordlessly, she shoved him. Surprised, he stumbled backward but managed to keep his feet. But then she shoved again, moving with him and pushing every time he stepped back. “Hey!” Jake snapped, catching her wrists. She quickly ripped her hands away and pushed harder, a grunt forcing itself out between her clenched teeth. His boot caught on a rock, forcing him off balance, and her next shove sent him sprawling. “What the fuck?” he demanded, pushing up onto his elbows. His back ached and his ass hurt from the fall. A burning sensation had him lifting his right arm to see a line of blood making a trail from his elbow toward his wrist. But Cece just glared down at him, hands planted on her hips. “Jesus Christ, Julie - what the hell was that about?”  

“‘It was rough’?” she hissed. “It was ROUGH?”

“What’re you talking about?” Jake snapped, matching her glare with one of his own. 

“How bad was it?” Cece demanded.

“How bad was what?” The noise she made was a mix of a groan and a scream. Spinning on her heel, she tugged at her hair and stomped away from him. Carefully, Jake got to his feet, trying not to bend his left knee. Cece turned to watch him, and he eyed her wearily. “You shove me again, and you’re comin’ down with me,” he cautioned. The look she gave him was so far removed from the teasing ones she’d give when they were kids and later teens, wrestling out in the field. He was pretty sure dragging her down with him wouldn’t end with a laughing kiss as he pinned her. More than likely, it’d end with an ‘accidental’ graze of her knee to his balls. “Baby, talk to me.” 

“Why? So you can lie to me again?”

“What did I lie to you about?”

“Everyone got home in one piece?” It took a moment for her words to register, and he shook his head when he realized she was talking about the mission.

“That’s not a lie. We all got home.”

“What happened to you?” A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he remembered how it felt when the SAM hit his tail, splitting the jet and sending him into a spin. How disorienting it was, unable to tell the difference between the stars and the ground. Bitchin’ Betty yelling at him to eject as sensors blared. Rooster screaming at him to get out. 

“I’m fine.” Even to his ears, the words sounded hollow. He’d said them so often since getting home they’d almost lost their meaning. Angrily brushing the tears from her face, Cece stalked toward him. Her hands lifted to shove him again, and Jake reacted. His arms wrapped around her waist, tugging so their chests collided. Momentum threw them off balance, and he sat heavily, grunting while taking the brunt of the fall. Cece’s knee brushed his inner thigh, and he clenched automatically, bracing for the pain of a knee to the balls. 

“Let go of me!” she demanded, pushing against his chest. But he ignored her, rolling so she lay under him, her thighs cradling his hips. Catching the hands pushing against him, Jake drew them over her head, wrapping his fingers around her forearms and pinning her to the ground.

“Told ya you’d be goin’ down with me if you pushed me again,” he teased, his laugh turning into a bitten-back moan when Cece planted her feet and lifted her hips to try and throw him off. 

“Get off me, Seresin!” 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong, Julie Louise Ryan.” The use of her full name had her glaring at him again, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. 

“Fuck you, Jacob Thomas.” 

“I’d love nothin’ more, baby, but only after you tell me what’s wrong.” She struggled against him but, even injured, he had more weight and strength on his side. With one final buck against him, she sagged into the grass, breathing heavily. 

“You lied to me. Again.” The accusation came out a half sob, and Jake’s heart broke to see her chin wobble. 

“I didn’t lie to you, honey. I’m right here. I’m okay.” 

“You got hurt.” 

“I did.” 

“You didn��t tell me.” The pain in Cece’s eyes was unbearable, especially knowing he caused it. Clearing his throat against the tight feeling, he nodded. 

“I didn’t want you to worry.” Letting go of one of her arms, he wiped away her tears. His palm curved around her jaw, thumb gently tugging her lower lip free of the teeth digging into it. “I’m alright and gettin’ better every day.” 

“What happened?” Her breath was hot against his face. And, while the mission was classified, it was hard to keep the truth from the woman he loved.

“Bad ejection,” he said simply and felt her breath catch. Watched her pulse flutter in her throat. “Tore my ACL and had to have surgery.” Her free hand curled around the back of his sweaty neck, fingers sliding into his hair. Nails lightly scraped his scalp, and his eyes drooped. Shifting, he let go of her other arm, bracing his hand by her head. 

“You didn’t tell me.” 

“‘M sorry, Cupcake,” he murmured. Dipping his head, he brushed the tips of their noses. Cece’s eyes closed as she turned away from him. Denied her lips, he kissed the hinge of her jaw and throat, switching to the other side when she rolled her head. The unmistakable feeling of her hips grinding against him and knees bracketing his side had him chuckling against her skin. “I love you, baby.” The fingers in his hair tightened, tugging cruelly as Cece took advantage of his distraction to flip them. Yelping, he covered her hand with his, trying to disentangle it as she straddled his hips. 

Leaning down, she kissed Jake’s forehead before letting go of his hair and bracing her hands on his chest, scrambling to her feet before he could catch her. Towering over him, she glared and shook her head, swiping at the tears coating her cheeks. Her voice cracked when she said, “You don’t get to die on me, too, Farm Boy.” 

“Julie - ”

“Save it,” she snapped, turning on her heel and walking away. He tried to catch her ankle but missed. But rather than returning to the truck, she was going toward the gelding. 

“Hey,” he called, struggling to his feet. She was faster, quickly undoing the simple knot he’d secured the lead rope with. “What’re you doin’?” Jake demanded as she gathered the reins in one hand and hoisted herself into the saddle he hadn’t removed. His jeans, already tight, felt a bit more snug after that display. 

Jake had forgotten just how gorgeous Cece was when she rode. 

“Stop over doing it before you put yourself back in the damn hospital,” she scowled. 

“Fine. Get down, and I’ll ride back.” But instead, she ignored him and wheeled the horse around, kicking it into a run. 

“Keys are in the ignition!” Cece called over her shoulder while standing up in the stirrups. Jake was treated to the beautiful view of her ass as they started to run across the field back to the barn, hair streaming behind her. 

“God damn,” he muttered to himself, finally tearing his gaze away. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he retrieved his hat before limping his way to the truck. Just like she’d promised, the keys swayed from the ignition when he got in. But the envelope with his name on it sitting in the passenger seat caught his attention. Frowning, he opened it and saw a stack of postcards.

With the last few rays of sunlight, Jake picked up the first one and saw it was a picture of the Grand Canyon. Smirking, he flipped it over and read Cece’s loopy handwriting.

Farm Boy,

I’m going on the adventure we always talked about. It’s scary to think about doing it alone, but it’s a good scary. I feel like I’ve been waiting around for my life to start, and I’m just tired of waiting for it. I think… I know that I need this. I hate that we’re fighting and that I won’t get to talk to you soon, so I figured this might be a way to talk to you without actually talking. 

It’s probably stupid, and I might forget to do this halfway through. But for now, hello from the Grand Canyon! 

I love you even when I’m mad at you. And isn’t that what matters?

Cece

Will was in the barn brushing down the gelding when Jake reached the house, a teasing smirk on his mouth. “Good ride?” he asked and laughed when he got the finger in response. Mama and Pops were back, sharing their nightly cup of tea. Cece’s car was long gone. After saying goodnight to his parents, he went upstairs and forced himself to shower instead of retreating to his room. 

Hair still damp, he crawled into bed with the stack of postcards and started reading. 

Gripping the railing, Jake slowly made his way downstairs the following morning. He was tired after staying up late and waking up with a nightmare around two. It always sucked to dream about the mission, and usually took him a couple hours to calm back down enough to sleep. Normally, he dozed for a few more minutes before his alarm went off for chores. But last night, he’d gotten through a few more postcards and woken with them on his chest, having fallen back asleep reading. 

The smell of something sweet mixed with coffee and laughter in the kitchen. Following his nose, he paused in the doorway at a sight that made his heart skip a beat. Cece leaned against the counter, Tyler sleeping on her chest as she chatted with Ally. Her hand spanned the little guy’s back, her chin resting on his head as his fingers curled around her t-shirt neck. “Look who finally decided to join us,” Will said, startling Jake. He hadn’t heard his brother come up behind him and wasn’t prepared for the shove to the middle of his back, forcing him into the room. This time, he kept his balance and spun to face his brother. With decades of experience, Will dodged Jake’s attempt to get him into a headlock, quickly batting away his arms. 

“Boys!” Pops snapped. “Knock it off.” 

“Yes, sir,” the Seresin boys chorused. The minute Pops turned back to his conversation with Mama at the kitchen table, Jake smacked the back of Will’s head and moved toward the coffee pot. Glancing at Cece, he fought to smile when she rolled her eyes at him. Her lips pressed to Ty’s head, attempting to hide her smirk, and he barely avoided overfilling his mug. 

Using his nephew as an excuse to get closer, Jake’s hand covered Cece’s on Ty’s back, and he leaned down to kiss the baby’s head. Cece’s shoulder pressed against his chest, and it took all of his willpower not to turn and kiss her, too. “Mornin’ buddy. Ready to go out with Uncle Jake?”

“You’ve had your turn. He’s hanging out with Aunt Julie this morning,” she said, digging her elbow into his stomach. Without thinking, he pinched her side playfully. Mock glaring, Cece hip-checked him and used her free hand to flick his cheek. “Go away. I’m soaking up baby cuddles.”

“Stop being gross around my son,” Ally huffed, thrusting a hand between them and pushing Jake away. 

“You’re supposed to take my side since you’re my sister,” he grumbled, sipping his black coffee. 

“Yeah, well, I like her more,” Ally smirked. “She brings me cinnamon rolls. You just annoy me.” 

“Cinnamon rolls?” 

“They’ll be out of the oven in a few minutes,” Cece said, glancing over at the stove timer before sipping her coffee. She quickly dropped it back onto the counter when Ty squirmed, his little face scrunching as he rubbed against her collarbone. Bouncing him gently, her eyes shot to Ally, who sighed and glanced at her watch.

“Yup, about that time.” Reluctantly, Cece handed Ty over as he started to cry, a pitiful sound that had every adult in the kitchen stopping. Will was quickly at their side, his arm around Ally’s shoulders as he stared down at his son.

“Mornin’, kiddo,” he sighed, cupping his hand to the baby’s head as he looked at his wife. “Want me to take him while you get settled?” She shook her head.

“Mind grabbing the bag? He’ll need a change after.” Nodding, Will pecked Ally’s cheek and walked toward the front door, where the baby bag was stashed. “Save me a roll?” she asked, turning to Cece. 

“Extra frosting.” 

“And that’s why I love you more.” Throwing a wink at Jake, Ally made her way upstairs, smiling when Will walked behind her with his hand steady on her back. Jake felt a wave of envy and tried to tamp it down. His gaze drifted to Cece, who didn’t seem to realize - or mind - that she was leaning against him. Just a little shift, and she’d be tucked under his arm. Setting his coffee mug on the counter behind her, his thumb grazed her back and stroked lightly. Her eyes swung to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Morning,” she said softly.  

“Mornin’.” His eyes dropped to her mouth as his hand slid along her back to curl around her hip. It’d only take a slight tug and a dip of his head for him to taste the sweetened coffee on her lips. “You sleep well?” Her shoulder lifted, hip pressing further into his grip as she shifted. 

“It’s good to be home.”

“You’ve been gone a lot. Already got through a couple of your postcards.” Pink dusted her cheeks as Cece bit her lower lip.

“I know it was stupid but - ”

“Not stupid. I’m glad you wrote me.” 

“I didn’t think I’d have to face you while you read them,” she admitted. “Was gonna mail them all at once, but when I saw you were back home…”

“You decided to give them to me after stealing my horse?” Mischief shone in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to reply when a beeping interrupted them. 

“It smells good, Julie,” Pops called from the kitchen table, his eyes darting over to where they stood too close. A smile tugged at his mouth, and Jake saw Mama lightly kick him under the table. Cece quickly pulled away from Jake and walked toward the oven, grabbing a pair of mitts from the counter and putting them on. When she opened the oven, the kitchen was flooded with the smell of cinnamon and sugar. 

“Looks like they're done,” she announced, setting the large pan on the stovetop. “Just gonna let them cool a minute before frosting.” It was on the tip of Jake’s tongue to ask if she needed a hand, but instead, he stayed where he was, sipping his coffee and watching the love of his life move around the kitchen with a familiar comfort. There was no hesitation as she reached into the fridge to retrieve a container, and she located the drawers with spoons and the kitchen sheers immediately. A piping bag and jar were pulled from a sack on the counter, and Cece quickly spooned frosting into the bag. 

“Need anything?” Mama asked, looking up from her coffee. 

“Nope,” Cece replied, walking back to the stove and piping cream cheese frosting onto the rolls. Abandoning his coffee, Jake retrieved a stack of plates from the cabinet before standing beside her. Cece glanced at him, flicking her wrist with each swirl as she made quick work of the task. “Hand me the caramel sauce?” she asked after covering two rolls with extra frosting, presumably for Ally. Nodding, Jake retrieved the mason jar and twisted the top off. Swiping his thumb over the lid, he tasted the salted caramel and let out an appreciative hum. Try as she might to hide her smile, he caught her pressing her lips together. “Good?”

“I’d eat the whole damn jar.”

“You’ll have to fight Will for that one, but maybe I’ll make you your own if you don’t overdo it today.” 

“Promise?” Rather than answer, she took the jar from him and shoved the piping bag into his hand. He squeeze a bit of the remaining frosting onto his finger, watching her drizzle the caramel over the cinnamon rolls before sticking his finger under the stream. “Hey!”

“Damn, honey, that’s good,” he chuckled, licking his finger clean of the sweet combination as she smacked his chest. 

“Out of my kitchen, Farm Boy.” 

“Pretty sure it’s Mama’s kitchen.” 

“Keep it up, and you’ll be goin’ without.” 

“You’d deprive a workin’ man of his breakfast?”

“Absolutely.” His loud laugh drew his parents' attention. “Make yourself useful and get me another cup of coffee, please.” 

Over breakfast, Pops laid out the plan for the day. After milking, they needed to inspect one of the old buildings in the field the cows used for shade, and the truck needed an oil change. The horse stalls needed cleaning, and a yearling was getting picked up today to head to their new home. Ally and Will joined, Mama taking Tyler while they ate. One of the mares had come in from the corral favoring her leg, so Ally was going to do an x-ray to ensure nothing was wrong since she’d been lame for a few days.

Jake half listened, more concerned with the feeling of Cece’s leg pressed against his under the table. 

Too soon, they were up and moving, clearing the table in preparation for going their separate ways. The dregs of coffee were poured into thermoses before Mama started another pot, and Jake watched as Ally helped Cece wrap a long strip of fabric around her chest before sliding Ty into it. “Guess you’re really stealing my WSO,” he said, coming up behind her to look over her shoulder at Tyler. 

“Told ya,” she shrugged, tickling the baby’s cheeks as he shrieked and kicked his legs. “Gonna go to the hen house and get the eggs before Auntie’s gotta go.” Looking over her shoulder, she seemed surprised at how close he was. “What’s a WSO?” she asked, her voice just a bit breathless. 

“Weapons System Officer,” he replied. “The backseater for a pilot that does all the tech stuff so they can focus on flying.”

“Ah. The backseater you never wanted,” she nodded, remembering those long ago nights when he’d just started flight school. 

“I’d have one if they were like this kid.” Reaching around her, he smoothed a hand over Tyler’s head. It was cover for him to get even closer and say softly, “‘M sorry about yesterday. We still on for dinner tonight?” 

“Want me to make something?” 

“No, let’s go out. I heard there’s a new Italian place. Unless you don’t want people…” Jake trailed off, feeling a spike of anxiety at the thought of Cece not wanting to be seen with him. But after two weeks of being the subject of town gossip, he was also weary of offering up more.

“Italian sounds good. Want me to come get you, or are you gonna borrow the truck?”

“I’ll take the truck. Seven good?” She smiled and nodded, eyes darting behind him. The collar of his shirt got tighter against his throat as Will dragged him backward.

“Let’s go, lover boy. Stop usin’ my son to flirt.” Cece’s laugh rang in his ears as he allowed himself to be towed backward. When he winked, she rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss Tyler’s head. 

True to her word, Cece was gone by the time Jake returned to the house for lunch. He helped himself to another cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll while Pops sliced tomatoes from Mama’s garden for their sandwiches. He’d kept his promise to take it easy on his knee, and spent some time on the couch icing it after eating, waiting for Ally to get back. Pops and Will were heading to the lumber store to get some boards for the new project while he was supposed to help with the horses. 

It took some time to separate Dorrie from her foal, and angry whinnies and stomps filled the barn as the young horse made his displeasure known. Ty babbled from the baby jail, adding to the overall noise in the barn. Dorrie was a sweet mare and stood well when he held the halter so Ally could test the flex of her right foreleg. She’d arrived at the same time as the man picking up the yearling, so Mama took care of the sale while Jake was stuck being Ally’s tech. It was a bit painful to jog back and forth so Ally could study her gait, but it was good to push himself. 

Jake felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He held the horse still and tried to keep the panel steady while Ally took an X-ray. Ideally, it was a three-person job, but she had another appointment to get to, and they couldn’t wait for Mama. After taking some images, she stood and held her hand out for the panel. “Alright, let’s get her back in the stall while I look at this. I think it’s just inflammation, but we’ll make sure.” Nodding, he loosened the lead rope tie and led Dorrie back into her stall. The foal was bucking in the corner, little hooves hitting the walls, but quickly settled down once Jake unclipped the rope. He’d be a fun one to work with, he mused - just a few months old and already about 12 hands tall, almost ready for weaning. He’d make a pretty show horse with a bit of training. 

Coiling the rope around his hand, Jake stepped out of the stall and adjusted his hat. After checking that Ally didn’t need anything, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, eyebrows shooting up to see it was a notification from TikTok. 

Cece had posted. 

It had been months since he’d opened the app. In a moment of weakness, he’d checked to see if she posted anything while he was deployed and ignored the thousands of likes and comments on his video. Unable to stomach it, he’d subscribed to her account and decided he wouldn’t open it again. His thumb itched to hit the notification and watch the first video she’d posted since all the shit went down. “You need me for anything right now?” he asked, glancing at Ally. She balanced Ty on her hip as she peered down at the screen, examining Dorrie’s leg.

“Nope.” He nodded, walking out of the barn to lean against the corral. Wiping his mouth, Jake hesitated before tapping his screen. It took a minute for the app to load, and he caught a glimpse of another video before Cece’s opened. 

“Hey guys, it’s been a while.” And there she was, pouring water into a bowl and mixing it with something. She wore the shirt he’d seen her in yesterday. “I decided to take some time off after everything that happened in December and focus on myself. I’m not sure if I ever told y’all this, but I haven’t traveled much. So that’s what I did.” Clips of her at different places flashed on the screen, a soft song playing in the background. There were forests and coasts, plains and mountains. City skyscrapers and little towns. He recognized the sights from her postcards and wasn’t surprised to see Lucy pop up in a couple of the clips. “I also finished my pastry degree. Before I left Austin, I did one of the two externships I needed, and only had one more six-week externship to graduate. So I worked in a hotel pastry department for a little while and did some exploring.” 

Pictures of her in a white chef coat spun by, mixed in with ones of her hanging out. His eyebrows knit together in confusion - there hadn’t been anything in her postcards about that. And a few of the places she showed looked familiar. Those were gone in a flash, replaced by shots of her on a plane. “But mostly, I just had fun, which has been something I’ve been missing over the last couple of years. I went on my first international flight and spent a couple of weeks in Europe, and can’t wait to get back.” A clip of her eating a macaron in front of the Eifel Tower made him smile. “I really needed to figure out what I wanted to do. For a while, I’ve been thinking about leaving my hometown. I only came home because Daddy was sick” - videos of Brian helping Cece bake played - “and as much as I appreciated getting that extra time with him, Daddy didn’t want me to stay here after he passed. So I used this trip to test out possible places I might like to live.”

Jake's heart raced as he stared at the screen, watching as the travel clips shifted to her kneading dough and rolling it out. Mixing sugar. And he realized she was making the cinnamon rolls they’d had that morning. “I love where I grew up, but it hasn’t been home for a while. So, as much as I appreciate my customers, I’m sad to say that I’ll be officially closing my business in its current location as I’ll be branching out.” The phone shook in his hand, and Jake felt sweat beading on his forehead. “There’s no exact timeline, but I’m headed out west.” 

And there it was. A picture of Cece standing in front of a mural, grinning as she gestured to the giant letters spelling out GREETINGS FROM SAN DIEGO. 

Jake laughed, clapping a hand to his mouth to stifle it as tears clouded his vision. Blinking them away, he turned up the volume to hear Cece as she cut the cinnamon rolls and placed them in the baking dish. “I’m so excited for this next chapter, and I hope you’ll tag along as this country girl tries out city living. As soon as I’m ready to take orders, you’ll be the first to know.” Her eyes lifted from the dish, and she stared directly into the camera, a slow smile gracing her lips. When the video started to loop, Jake sat down hard, dropping his head into his hands as he clicked the comments already in the thousands.

OH MY GOD YOU’RE BACK!

California! I’m so excited I’ll get to try your stuff now!

Okay, but what about Jake??? Isn’t that where he lives?????!!!!!!

The last one had over a hundred comments under it and two thousand likes. Shutting the app, Jake pulled up his contacts, thumb hovering over Cece’s name. But instead of tapping it, he locked his phone and got to his feet. Hurrying into the barn, he spotted Mama and Ally standing outside Dorrie’s stall. Both women looked up at him as he jogged toward them, their looks of concern at the tears on his cheek fading when they saw his broad grin. “I gotta go.” 

“You know where the truck keys are,” Mama said. 

“Tell Julie it’s about time,” Ally added. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how long they’d known, but he resisted. 

Dust kicked up under the tires as he tore down the driveway and skidded onto the road. Thankfully, no sheriffs were around as he sped through Magnolia, fighting against hitting the horn at anyone who slowed him down. Soon - but not soon enough - he was turning onto Cece’s road. Her SUV was parked under the carport. 

His boots were loud on the concrete as he slammed the truck shut and flew up the few steps to her porch to pound on the door. The curtain twitched. A heartbeat later, the door flew open, and Cece stood before him. “Were you tryin’ to - ” Jake cut her off, cupping her face and tilting it up. His kiss was frantic, lips crushing against hers as he smiled and laughed. Her fingers gripped his shirt, and Jake was sure she could feel his racing heart. His hands moved to her hips, gently drawing her out of the house and into his arms. “Break it down?” Cece panted against his mouth when they finally broke apart to breathe. Her eyes slowly opened, lifting to meet his. Their second kiss was more gentle, and she sighed when his tongue traced the seam of her lips, opening to allow him to taste her tongue. When his hands dropped to her ass, hauling her closer, Cece laughed against his mouth and gently pushed him away. “We’re not giving my neighbors a show.” 

Were he not injured, Jake would have picked her up and carried her into the house at that moment. But he satisfied himself by peppering her face with kisses until she giggled. “You’re comin’ to California?” Some of the joy in her eyes dimmed, and she gave him a hesitant look. Her hands trailed down his arms to tangle their fingers, pulling him into the house and kicking the door closed. As soon as it shut, one hand went into her hair, the other crossing her chest as though to protect herself. When Jake reached for her, she stopped him.

“I am. I… I did my externship in San Diego and really liked it there.”

“You did? You were there for six weeks? When?”

“While you were gone. I wanted to see if I liked it without you…” her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she tried to find the words. “Clouding my judgment.”  

It hurt to hear that, but Jake knew it was a smart move. “You coulda stayed at my place.” A wry smile graced her lips when she shook her head. 

“I needed a Farm Boy free trip to make my decision.” Teeth dug into her lower lip as Cece reached for his hands, squeezing gently. “Jake, I need you to…” She paused and took a deep breath, forehead dropping to his chest momentarily before her head lifted. Her eyes were guarded when she said, “I’m not moving there for you.” Hurt and fear that she was ending this before it began slammed into him. Jake stumbled back a step, but Cece’s grip on him was firm. “I needed to make that decision for myself, without you. I can’t move somewhere - start my life over again - for someone else. Again. It needs to be for me. I’m going out there because it’s what I want to do. Being with you isn’t the draw. But it’s certainly a perk.” Jake nodded, unable to get a sound out around the lump in his throat. Her brows drew together in concern, and she cupped his face, her thumb rasping on his stubbled cheek as she brushed away a tear. “I love you, Farm Boy.” 

“I love you too, Cupcake,” he forced out after clearing his throat. 

Time seemed to slow as they kissed, and Jake laughed when Cece lifted his Stetson from his head, tossing it toward the couch. Her hands tugged his shirt from his jeans before hooking in his belt buckle and pulling him toward her bedroom. A trail of clothes littered the floor, but neither seemed in a hurry as they took time to explore one another. Jake swallowed hard when Cece kissed the surgical scar on his left knee and ran her hands along his body in search of any other hurts. She trembled with anticipation as he kissed from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, the featherlight brushes of his lips contrasting with the coarse feeling of his beard. On his way back up, his shoulders forced her thighs wide as he took her apart with deliberate care, reveling in the feeling of her hands tangled in his hair and the soft gasps and moans she let out.  

Cece could see her arousal coating his mouth when she opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her and tasted herself on his tongue. Jake’s cock was hot and hard on the crease of her hip, and he shuddered when she lightly ran her nails down his spine. The tips of her fingers dug into the tense muscles of his lower back, forcing him to bite back a groan. Her touch felt so fucking good. Especially her leg lifting and curling around his hip. “Baby, I don’t have a condom,” he sighed, swallowing hard as his cock slid through her wet folds. 

“In the drawer,” she replied, nipping his lip playfully. Jealousy shot through him at the idea of her having those, using them with someone else. It must have shown on his face because Cece laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Some farm boy fighter pilot came through Magnolia over Christmas and left before we could use them.” 

“What an idiot,” Jake chuckled, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. 

Cece’s laugh was music to his ears as he reached into the drawer, her fingers following the trail of hair on his stomach as he rolled the condom on. The sweet sound was only a second to the gasping moan she let out when he pressed into her.

And, for the first time in a decade, Jake Seresin felt like he was home. 

---------------------------------------

Author's Note: Oh man, this chapter was so fun and sad to write. Watching Twisters definitely helped to develop Cowboy Jake more, and I was so excited to write him getting back to his roots, and figuring out how to mix Hangman with Farm Boy. And to see how Cece grew. She has needed to leave her home for a long time, and needed to make her own decisions regarding her life.

And, while I said that this was the last chapter, I decided to break the epilogue off into a separate part since this chapter is already massive. Apologies for that 😅 I debating cutting parts but May yelled at me to leave it.

Read the Epilogue

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[ninzied]

weeds

based on the prompt: a kiss on a falling tear. brownstone/bonus chapter era. 600 word ficlet.

Henry has been surrounded by flowers all his life.

Flowers in every hallway and room. Atop every table and flanking every door that led to yet more hallways, yet more rooms. Flowers that were fussed over, flowers that were arranged to perfection despite being replaced at least once a day. Flowers in the palace gardens where Henry used to escape as a child, wishing the mazes could swallow him whole.

Flowers at the funeral.

Flowers at the royal wedding, when his life jump-started again.

And now, flowers in the brownstone that Alex has just moved into with him. They’re daisies in an assortment of colors. Nothing extraordinary, though they would’ve turned heads at the palace for that very reason alone. Henry’s pretty sure they’re classified as weeds, technically speaking.

He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

That is, apart from the man who’s just brought them home on a whim, who’s now calling to Henry over his shoulder, “Babe, do you think these would look good in a mug?”

Henry thinks he would love them anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever he can. This little life he’s building with Alex is the brightest, fullest, most incredible thing, and he will not take a single bit of it for granted.

.

They go to the MoMA. It’s the first touristy thing that they’ve done since moving in together. And, Henry realizes, watching Alex tear through his wardrobe looking for the perfect cover, it’s one of the first museums he’ll have been to during normal daylight hours.

Alex gleefully poses Henry in all the various hats that he owns. He makes a grave miscalculation when it comes to his black Stetson, which delays their leaving the house by many, many hours. Alex finally comes to the breathless conclusion that it would draw too much attention if Henry were to wear it outside.

(“Mm,” says Henry, still catching his breath back himself. “You can’t possibly mean from you, of course.”

“Definitely not,” Alex agrees, already moving to kiss him again.)

They walk hand-in-hand through the museum sometime even later, in baseball caps and soft t-shirts, and Henry can’t believe this gets to be his life now. They let themselves be jostled along with the crowds, Angus up ahead of them. He needn’t be; no one so much as looks at them twice.

Eventually, they wander their way up to the fifth level. They step into a room where Henry finds himself once again surrounded by flowers.

The largest painting occupies three panels, spanning a significant length of the room. Gran has taken great pride in the royal collection over the years, pieces the family could access in private whenever they so pleased. But there’s something about standing here, with Alex. Just two people, being in love while looking at art. Like it’s something extraordinary, this beautifully ordinary thing they can do.

“Huh,” Alex murmurs, reading the placard. “Took him twelve years to paint this.” He squeezes Henry’s hand, then adds almost offhandedly: “I think that’s about how long it took after seeing you in J14 for the first time. Getting to finally kiss you, I mean.”

Henry looks at Alex with a feeling much too big for words. He smiles, his chest aching with it. The feeling wells up, touching the edges of his vision until he sees in watercolor. “Darling,” he says. “Are you comparing our love story to a Monet?”

“Please.” Alex looks affronted. “This guy’s got nothing on us.”

It’s blasphemous, surely. But as Alex leans in, kissing away a tear on his cheek, Henry thinks he’s secretly rather inclined to agree.

also on ao3.

[avastrasposts]

Big Sky Country - ch. 10

This chapter was a long time coming and I've been struggling with inspiration to write the final part of this story. There is only the epilogue left after this, but I can't say when I'll have it done. But, at least, I'm wrapping up Frankie and Aisling's story now, leaving them in a happy place with a lot of future ahead of them.

Plot: In Big Sky Country we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar. life doesn't follow straight paths.

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC Aisling

Warnings: None, this is all fluff

Word count: 4.6k

“Fish!” 

The loud whoop could be heard through the closed windows of the truck as the engine went quiet. 

“What the fuck are they doing here?” Frankie said, shaking his head while Aisling gave him a confused look.

“Do you know them?” she asked and Frankie nodded, pushing the door open. 

“Yeah, my friends from the army, but I don’t know why they’re here,” he said and got out as a tall blonde man bounded down the steps.

“Fish!” he yelled, a big grin on his face, but as Aisling opened the door on her side and stepped out, a look of confusion flashed across his face before he smiled wide at Frankie again. He was on him in a couple of long steps and Aisling couldn’t help smiling as he effortlessly picked up Frankie in a bear hug. 

“Benny, you’re fucking squashing me,” Frankie laughed, patting the man on the back to get him to let up on his bone crushing grip. Behind him two other men had stepped off the porch, another blonde man almost as tall and big as the first, but older, and a shorter dark haired man who caught Aisling’s eye and smiled at her. 

“Hi, I’m Santiago,” he said, coming over and putting his hand out to her. His handshake was firm and warm, she could feel the calluses on his palm, and it reminded her of Frankie. 

“Aisling, nice to meet you,” she replied as Frankie got a hug from the other blonde man and Benny came over with a bright, curious smile with his hand out. 

“Hi, I’m Benny,” he grinned down at her and she had a moment to think he really was the biggest man she’d seen until the other blonde man offered his hand and introduced himself as Will. It was like standing in front of a wall of men. The three of them, especially the blondes, wide as barn doors, all built in the same broad shouldered form as Frankie. He came over to her side just as she introduced herself to Benny and Will and got a big hug from the man called Santiago. 

“Good to see you, Pope,” he mumbled as the other man clapped him on the back. 

Frankie stepped back and stood next to Aisling, his hands deep in his pockets and looking utterly uncomfortable and confused under the brim of his Stetson. 

“Love the cowboy hat, Fish,” Benny chuckled, swiping it off his head and swapping his own cap for it, tilting the brim at Frankie with a two fingered “Howdy.” 

“Fuck off, Benny,” Frankie sighed with a smirk, “What are you guys even doing here?” 

“You invited us, Fish,” Santiago said, his eyebrows furrowing, “I sent you the details two days ago.” 

“Yeah, for the 15th, Pope,” Frankie replied but Will immediately shook his head. 

“No, the 5th, I booked it,” he said and Frankie pulled out his phone, getting Pope’s message out and seeing that the date was indeed the 5th. 

“Fuck….” he sighed, “I messed up the dates, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, we were kinda confused when you didn’t pick up the phone, but that explains it,” Will said, “We met Herb down at the ranch and he told us you were out on the trail today.” 

Frankie shook his head, his face deeply apologetic, “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t focused when I read your mail, Pope. I…I had other things on my mind,” he stuttered and no one missed his quick glance at Aisling who was starting to feel uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, we can see that, Fish,” Pope smiled at Aisling who felt her cheeks heat up as all four men were suddenly looking at her. 

“Sorry, I kinda showed up unexpectedly a couple of days ago,” she said with a grimace, looking over at Frankie. 

“So, how’d you two-” 

“Fish, show us your cabin and let’s get the grill going, we brought food and beer,” Will interrupted Benny, stepping between him and Aisling and grabbing hold of Frankie’s arm, propelling him towards the house. Pope stepped round them and easily hooked an arm around Aisling’s shoulders and got her walking towards the house with him, leaving Benny to catch up. 

“It’s nice to meet you, good to see that Frankie’s got some company out here,” Santiago smiled, “let’s see if we can dig out that grill, I think I saw around the side earlier. 

Thankful for Santiago’s distraction, Aisling helped him set it up while Benny hauled a couple of coolers from the back of their rental truck. Setting up a camping table next to the BBQ, they soon had it going just as Will and Frankie returned outside with plates and utensils for the BBQ. 

“Any outdoor seating, Fish?” Santiago asked and Frankie shook his head. 

“No, just the bench on the porch and a couple of deck chairs, stairs’ll have to do.” 

“Alright, man, sounds good. Cheers!” Santiago held his beer up to the group and everyone followed suit, clinking bottles and taking long swigs. Frankie caught Aisling’s eyes over the brim of his bottle and she gave him a small smile. He knew he’d have to field a lot of questions from the guys and he wished he’d had a moment to talk to her before they started asking. 

“Frankie, before I forget,” Aisling suddenly said, “Can you help me get my bag down from the closet, I couldn’t reach it this morning and I’ve got my sweater in it.” 

Frankie looked confused for a second while Aisling nodded towards the cabin and left the guys standing by the BBQ. Then it clicked. 

“Yeah, sure. Give me a second, guys, be right back.” 

He hurried after Aisling and followed her into the cabin. He knew her bag was on the floor of his bedroom, and not on top of any closet, and now he followed her in there.

“I’m sorry about this, Ash,” he said as soon as he’d closed the door behind them, “I had no idea they’d turn up today.” 

“It’s fine, ‘Fish’,” she smiled at him, “They seem really nice. I just wanted to ask you what we tell them? Do they know we met in Brooklyn?” 

Frankie shook his head as his hand flew up to rub his neck while he grimaced at her with a pained expression. 

“No, I haven’t talked to them in a while. Pope knows Eva and I broke up, I talked to him just after I got back from New York. But I didn’t tell him about you.” 

“Which one is Pope?” Aisling asked, taking his hand from his neck and threading her fingers through his.

“Santiago, Pope’s his call sign, like mine’s Catfish,” Frankie explained, “Will is Ironhead, Benny is just Benny.” 

He sighed and wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning his forehead against hers, “I wanna tell them everything, if you’re ok with that. Or at least, that we met in New York, that we’re….” Frankie trailed off, giving a small shrug before he continued, “I mean, we didn’t talk about this yet, what we are? Are we dating?”

“I’d say we are, Fish,” Aisling replied with a small smile, “And…I don’t know, they’ll figure out I’m staying with you so just tell them I came out here to stay with you for a bit? We don’t have to tell them all the details about New York.” 

“Pope knows I came back here from New York after Eva and I broke up, but he doesn’t know about the abortion. I’ll tell him eventually, but not now,” Frankie said, shaking his head. He knew he wanted all three of them to know the whole story eventually, so that they understood why he wasn’t with Eva anymore. But it had been such a long time since all four of them had been together, tonight shouldn’t be about him. “I don’t want to bring it down, or make it weird, just make it…easy? And I don’t want them to think I made some sort of rash decision with you and that this isn’t real, you know? I want them to know you and like you and it’s just been so long and-” 

Aisling cupped her hands around his cheeks, stroking her thumbs over the scruffy bear, “Frankie, it’s nothing to worry about,” she could see the anxiety in his eyes as he went through fifty different scenarios in just a few seconds, his head starting to reel, “If they ask, we just tell them we met in Brooklyn while you were there, and now I’m here to stay with you for a while and see where it leads, how about that?” 

Frankie took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his mind calm down as Aisling continued to stroke his cheeks, the soft touch grounding him. 

“Yeah, sounds good, sounds like a plan,” he sighed, opening is eyes and looking down at her, “What the fuck would I do without you, Ash?” he asked, giving her a small smile. 

“Without me all these questions wouldn’t be popping up,” she smiled back, leaning in and giving him a kiss, “But I don’t mind fielding them, I’ve been a bartender in New York, three ex-military guys is a piece of cake. C’mon, let’s get some BBQ going,” she grinned at him and put her hand in his again.

She still had a firm grip on it as they returned to the front porch, the smell of burning coal already drifting from the grill. Will glanced up and noticed, his mouth pulling up in a quick smile while Benny hauled the cooler of beers to the edge of the porch stairs. 

“The coals will need some time to get nice and hot,” Will said, giving the BBQ a final look before he came over to the stairs and sat down on the bottom one, stretching out his long legs as Aisling and Frankie sat down too. Frankie leaned back as he scratched through his sweaty curls and hooked his arm around her waist. Benny passed them both beers and Pope lifted his, clinking it with Frankie’s. 

“Salud, el pececito,” he said with a grin, “Good to see you again, man. And it’s really nice to meet you Aisling.” 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Frankie huffed with a chuckle, lifting his bottle to Pope too, “And same, it’s good to have you here.” 

They all raised their bottles and echoed the sentiment, Ashling joining in and getting a warm smile from Will. She already liked him, he seemed stable and quiet, and in tune with what the other three men were feeling. 

“What does that mean?” she asked, “El pececito?” 

“Little fish!” Pope declared with a grin while Frankie sighed. Aisling laughed and patted his head, she was sitting a step above him and he’d put his arm around her as he leaned back. 

“So ‘fish sticks’ isn’t so bad then, huh, Fishy?” she teased him as he groaned, knowing what was coming. 

Benny nearly choked on his beer as he snorted, spraying beer over his shoes as Pope and Will laughed, Will also reaching up and slapping his brother’s back. 

“Oh shit, beer totally just came out of my nose but it was worth it,” Benny coughed, wiping his grinning face, “‘Fish sticks’? I’m using that!” 

“Only Ash is allowed to call me that, Benny,” Frankie sighed as he playfully poked Aisling, “You are in so much trouble, cariño.” 

She winked at Frankie as Benny continued to laugh, “I like her, Fish, good catch.” 

“Any more fish references and you’re getting kicked out,” Frankie said with a mock serious tone, “Besides, I’ve heard them all before you know.” 

“Yeah, you need to update your repertoire,” Pope nodded, “No repeating decade old jokes.” 

Benny just shook his head, flipping Pope the finger while sipping his beer again. 

“So you guys met in New York?” Will asked, his tone casual but Aisling had the feeling he was subtly starting the interrogation part of the conversation, “Are you from there?” His clear blue eyes were friendly as he looked at her and she didn’t mind his questions. 

“Yes, on both accounts. I grew up in Brooklyn and I met Frankie when he walked into the bar I was working at, looking very much like a lost cowboy.” 

“I didn’t look that much like a cowboy, and I wasn’t that lost,” Frankie protested, “I just had some time to kill and your bar looked nice.” 

“You were wearing cowboy boots and a belt buckle the size of Texas,” she pointed out, smiling down at him as he chuckled. 

“Yeah, fair point,” he admitted, scratching his beard as he thought back to the day he’d walked into the bar. He’d been pretty lost, not physically lost, but mentally. He could still remember the feeling he had in his body as he walked down the street to Eva’s apartment, the long hours on the bus in his limbs, the worry in his head about how to handle the prospect of a child with her, how to live in New York. The temporary relief he’d felt in Aisling’s company from the start had been unexpected but flooded him and calmed in a way he’d never felt before. He looked up at her sitting next to him now on the stairs of his cabin, something he’d thought was an impossible dream just two days ago, and something loosened his chest. She continued telling the guys the story about their first meeting, and he moved himself just a little bit closer, tightening his arm around her hips. She felt it and dropped her hand to his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze in response as she smiled at his friends.

“You guys should’ve seen his face when I told him the price of the beer he’d just had, he almost fell off the stool,” she grinned, giving his shoulder another squeeze as she looked down at him with warm eyes. 

The guys laughed as Frankie shook his head in protest, but he was laughing too. 

“This little minx sold me the most expensive beer on the menu, claimed it was her favorite and then charged me fourteen fifty without even blinking,” he said, giving Aisling’s side a teasing poke as she snorted, “And then she had the balls to ask me if I wanted another one.” 

“It was a great beer!” 

“Yeah, but not worth fourteen fifty,” Frankie said, his brown eyes almost disappearing as he grinned up at her and she grabbed his chin between her thumb and fore finger, tugging at it lightly as she gave his nose a quick peck. 

“Totally worth it, I tell you, since you got me too.” 

Frankie looked as if he was mulling that over for a couple of seconds before he slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer for a kiss. 

“Yeah, ok, worth it,” he smiled against her lips. 

“Enough,” Pope laughed, “this beer,” he waved his bottle at the two of them, “might not be fourteen fifty but I’m trying to keep it down, you know what I’m saying?” 

Aisling felt her cheeks heat up as Frankie pulled back a little, but his hand moved down her leg and he was still holding her close, his arm around her waist. 

“How’s ranch life then, for a New Yorker?” Will asked, taking a swig of his beer, the same easy tone to his questions. 

“I’ve only been here two days, but it’s good,” Aisling smiled at him, “Frankie gave me riding lessons yesterday and today we went out on the trail up into the mountains, it’s really beautiful and I haven’t gotten over how big and open it is out here, it’s just endless.” 

“Better than New York?” Pope asked, and something in his tone made Frankie look over at him, but the dark haired man just quirked his eyebrow back at him as Aisling nodded, she could guess what he meant too and she smiled at him. 

“So much better, on all accounts,” she said, looking over at Frankie, “Frankie showed me photos of this place before I came and I thought it was beautiful then too, but nothing compares to seeing it first hand. It’s just…” she shook her head like she couldn’t find the words to describe it, “I don’t even know, it just feels so much better, the air, the sky, the surroundings...” 

“The company,” Benny butted in with a grin and Aisling laughed. 

“Yeah, the company too,” she said and ruffled the top of Frankie’s head as he gave her leg a squeeze. 

Aisling looked over at the other three men again and grimaced, wrinkling her nose, “I…I guess it’s kinda weird for you guys to come here and find some strange woman in Frankie’s life,” she said, glancing at Santiago before meeting Will’s steady gaze, “You guys don’t know me and you’ve never heard of me, and I understand if you wonder what the fuck this is and who I am…” she trailed off but Will nodded. 

“I didn’t expect Frankie to have a new girlfriend, and I think we were all surprised to meet you, but it’s not a bad thing,” he reassured her, “We’ve know Frankie for a very long time, and I think we can all see the difference in him today compared to when we last saw him back in Florida. Whatever you’re doing, it seems to be working.” 

“It is,” Frankie cut in, “When things with Eva didn’t work out, the last thing I needed was to meet someone new, but with Aisling, it’s been easy from the start, well….” he stopped himself and looked at Aisling who had raised her eyebrows with a small smirk, “Ok, maybe not easy, outside circumstances made it difficult, but I never had to think about if you were right or not.” 

Aisling smiled at him, “You know I felt the same,” she said and wrapped her arms around Frankie, giving him a big kiss on his cheek as he grinned and the rest of the guys chuckled. 

Will shifted in his seat and took a sip off his beer while he looked at the two of them, seeming to consider his next words. 

“You look happy, Fish, really happy,” he said, pausing and looking between the two of them with a thoughtful look and seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say next as Pope glanced over at him. Instead he drank from his beer again instead, a small furrow between his eyebrows. 

But Frankie guessed what Will was thinking about, “She knows about my addiction, the PTSD, everything. I even told her about Colombia,” Frankie said, “I had to tell her, I need to go into this without any secrets.” 

Aisling nodded next to him, “This, between us, is…really new, but it’s good. It’s really good and I’m not scared by Frankie’s past, but I’m not going into it blind, I know he’s got a lot to work on.” 

“And you’re still clean, Fish?” Will asked. 

“945 days,” Frankie said without needing to think about it, pulling a small bronze chip from his pocket, “Never again.” 

“That’s awesome, Fish!” Benny exclaimed, reaching over and giving him a clap on the back, “You worked hard at it, it’s great to see something good coming into your life too.”  

“Thanks, Ben,” Frankie replied, rubbing his shoulder, “just a bit too fucking hard.” 

“Welcome to the mayhem, Aisling,” Pope laughed, “Never accept hugs from Benny.” 

“Fuck off,” Benny shot back but he couldn’t resist flexing his thick arms, showing off his physique. 

“I hope you’ve got a trip up on the trail with the horses planned for us too, Fish,” Will said, “we brought the gear for it.” 

“Yeah, of course, I planned with Herb after Pope called. We can go tomorrow if you’re all up for it?” Frankie replied, “You think you can handle another day in the saddle, Ash?” 

“Yeah, if we go slow. I’d love to go up there again,” she nodded and Frankie smiled, giving her hip a squeeze. 

“How about camping up there?” Benny asked, excitement showing on his face but Will just sighed and Pope cursed. 

“You want to go camping? Haven’t we all spent enough nights in tents?” he asked as Will pushed to his feet to check on the BBQ. 

“Yeah, seriously, Benny, I’ve done that enough,” he sighed, lining up the hot dogs and burger patties on the grill, “No more. 

“C’mon, I bet Aisling’s never been camping,” Benny pushed, pointing at Ash who was nodding. 

“I haven’t actually, and Frankie was gonna plan a camping trip for me, so maybe we can all go?” She looked at Frankie and then over at Pope and Will. Pope groaned and Will chuckled. 

“I’m not saying no to Fish’s girlfriend on the first night, I guess we’re going camping, Pope.” 

“Awesome,” Benny grinned, giving Aisling a quick nudge, “You’ll love it, we’ll get a big fire going, I make the best s’mores!”

The evening went on with the same theme, the guys were joking around, poking fun at each other and re-telling stories for Aisling’s benefit, their loud laughter echoed around the surrounding countryside as darkness fell. She sat tucked in under Frankie’s arm on the porch swing, Pope on the other side, while Frankie rocked the three of them back and forth. She looked over at him as his eyes disappeared in his face, doubled over with laughter from Benny’s story. He was telling them about a date he’d been on last month that had started with him bringing his date lilies, which she turned out to be allergic too, and ended when he brought her to a steakhouse, only to find out she was vegan.  

“I think I could’ve saved it after the lilies, I got her allergy tablets on the way to the restaurant, but the vegan thing….” he shook his head as the rest of them laughed, “you should’ve seen her face when we pulled up to the place and there was a big bull’s head above the door.” Benny made a grimace that sent them all into laughter again and next to her Aisling her Frankie almost choked as he took a sip from his beer. He winked at her as she patted his back, looking the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. It was easy to see that hanging out with old friends, sharing stories and just easy laughter, was doing him a lot more good than he probably realized.  

As the evening began to wind down, plans were made for the camping, the guys would go into Big Sky first thing in the morning for supplies while Frankie got the gear on the ranch ready. Aisling decided she needed some better clothes for camping so she’d join them too. Frankie shot her a worried look when she said that and Pope laughed. 

“Frankie’s scared we’ll tell you all the embarrassing stories if you go alone with us,” he chuckled, “don’t worry, Fish, we’ll save that for the campfire.” 

“Very helpful, thanks, Pope,” Frankie replied, beginning to stack the plates as he rolled his eyes, behind his back Pope winked at Aisling, “We should get a move on though, early start tomorrow to get all the gear ready.” 

It took a while longer, but eventually the three guys piled into their rented car and headed back to the ranch. Aisling yawned widely as Frankie locked the door to the cabin behind them and flicked off the kitchen light. She waited for him at the door to the bathroom and wrapped her arms around his waist. 

“You’ve got really great friends,” she said and Frankie smiled, nodding in agreement as he walked her backwards towards the counter, his arms on her shoulders. 

“Yeah, they’re good guys,” he said, “it was great seeing them, it wasn’t as weird as I thought it’d be.” 

“You’ve got people around you who care about you, Frankie, but you seem to be pretty good at forgetting that sometimes,” Aisling said in a soft voice as she caressed his back, lightly scratching as he hummed in agreement. 

“You’re not the first one to tell me that,” he admitted, “Herb has told me many times too, but I get too much in my head and think they’re better off without me, or that they don’t want me around while I’m a mess.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re  dumb ass, Frankie,” she scoffed with a smile as she tugged at his chin, “a total dumb ass sometimes.”

She heaved herself up on the counter next to the sink and grabbed her toothbrush. 

“Gee, thanks,” Frankie snorted, but he was smiling too, “and you’re not the first person to call me a dumb ass, but hearing it from my girlfriend is always very heartwarming.” 

“Just making sure you’re aware, pass the tooth paste, please,” she replied, leaning forward as handed her the tube, and giving him a kiss on the cheek, “and I like it when you call me your girlfriend.” 

“I noticed,” he smiled, “it made your cheeks go all pink when I did it tonight, I’m gonna have to use it more often.” 

“If you do, I won’t call  you ‘fish sticks’ in front of Benny again,” she smiled and started brushing her teeth as Frankie rolled his eyes with exaggeration at her. 

“I will never hear the end of that, you have no idea. These guys do not forget. Gathering information for black mailing is literally part of our training for special ops.” 

Aisling grinned around her toothbrush and Frankie gave her forehead a peck before he began brushing his own teeth.

“What was that for?” she asked, tilting her head back to stop the toothpaste from escaping her mouth. 

“Yorrkuut,” Frankie slurred and Aisling giggled and rinsed her mouth, spitting in the sink. 

“No idea what you just said.” 

Frankie spat too, “You’re cute,” he repeated with a smile as Aisling slid off the counter. 

“Not as cute as you ‘Fish sticks’, see you in the bedroom.” 

Frankie gave her butt a quick swat as she slipped out of the bathroom, he could hear her giggling as she rummaged around in her bag next to the bed. He put away his toothbrush and grabbed the mouthwash as he looked at himself in the mirror. The man who faced him looked different, he was smiling widely, and even though the lines around his eyes were still there, his patchy beard changing to gray faster than he’d like, he looked brighter and happier. It was a change that had come in just two days and he knew it was because he was starting to see a future a lot different from the one he’d envisioned less than a week ago. And he felt different, he could feel it in his chest, in his stomach, and above all, in his head. It was all calmer, steadier, and he felt level in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. It wasn’t just a maybe now, it was starting to become reality, a reality he could trust in to be more long term even if there was work to be done. 

He rubbed his hand over his jaw as he rinsed the mouthwash around his teeth, studying himself; dark curls that were getting long, the gray at his temples, deep lines on his forehead, the faint scar on his left cheek and all the thoughts he could see rolling in his head. He spat out the mouthwash and inhaled deeply, still looking at himself, still calm. There was no flare of panic at thinking about the future, no fear. Just a steady confidence that he could do this.

You’ve got this, Morales, you can handle it. Whatever ‘it’ is, you can handle it because you got this far and she believes in you and so do your friends. 

He gave himself a crooked smile in the mirror, and flicked off the light, making his way down to the bedroom and Aisling waiting for him.

Tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent@sheepdogchick3@readingiskeepingmegoing@noisynightmarepoetry@survivingandenduring @vabeachazn@amyispxnk@oberynslady @amyispxnk @thewiigers @lady-bess @missladym1981@peppermintfury@typewriter83 @anoverwhelmingdin @vabeachazn

[leviabeat]

What a dork 🤣

Via Britt's Instagram story

[vivwritesfics]

I need rhett or jake to teach me how to ride a horse

I feel like you already sent me a jake one (which i wanna save for my princess au) so I've gone for Rhett (this could be read as Waiting For The Sun Reader but I'm not specifying)

Horses weren't supposed to be scary. Rhett had never thought so, but, then again, he'd grown up around them. His girl, though, she hadn't grown up around horses.

She looked so cute, in her jeans, white shirt (that said Cowboy Pillows over the tits), and his Stetson. Rhett wore one of his caps as he tacked up Pumpkin. Pumpkin, who acted like she didn't know him when he walked up in his cap. That was his lovely, overdramatic mare.

Her ears were pinned back as he brushed her back. "Seriously?" He asked and pulled his hat off, revealing who he was. She calmed down after that, ears moving forward as she realised it was his dad. "Are you gonna be nice for my girl?" He asked and fed her a treat.

Pumpkin snorted.

He placed her saddle on her back and cinched it. As soon the girth tightened around her belly, Pumpkin put her ears back went to bite him, but he just pushed her away.

She was all talk. Rhett knew she was gonna be the best girl for his girl. He placed his cap back on his head, grabbed her reins, and walked her out of the barn.

That was the thing about Pumpkin. As soon as she had her tack on, she was like another horse. She was calm, almost like she was high.

And there she was, thumbs hooked around her belt loops as she watched him with Pumpkin. Rhett sucked in a breath. He placed the reins over Pumpkins neck and walked towards her.

"Cowboy pillows, huh?" He asked as he grabbed her hips and pulled her into him.

She licked her lips, keeping on hand on the back of the Stetson as she looked up at him. "Yep," she said, popping the p. "You can lay on them once you teach me how to ride.

"Darlin', I already know you can ride."

She rolled her eyes, but kissed him anyway. "C'mon, introduce me to your noble steed."

Noble steed. Pumpkin had never been called that before. He took her hand and led her over to Pumpkin. Rhett was so calm and patient with her, telling her where to put her hands. He helped her get her foot into the stirrup (something he knew he'd have to adjust as soon as she was sitting) and helped to lift her into the saddle.

"Sit straight, Darlin'," he said as he took her foot from the stirrup and made them shorter. She did what she was told, sitting so pretty for him. Rhett held her leg as he placed the stirrup back on her foot and patted her knee.

He looked up at her. "Fuck, c'mere," he said and pulled her down to kiss him.

"Rhett!" She cried, slipping slightly. But he got her back into the saddle and passed her the reins to hold.

It was only her first time on a horse. Rhett led Pumpkin around the pasture as she sat there in the saddle. "You're doing so good, darlin'," he said to her. "My two girls together."

"Can we go faster?" She asked.

Rhett had her let go of the reins. He placed her hands on the pommel. "Just sit as best you can, Darlin'," he said and stepped back.

He waited until she gave him a walk before he began running. Well, it was more of a jog really, with Pumpkin trotting behind him. Periodically he looked back, make sure she was still with him and that she hadn't slipped from the saddle.

They slowed back to a walk and Rhett had her pick up the reins again. He had her walk back without his assistance, hands shoved into his pockets as Pumpkin followed her back to the barn.

As soon as they were there, Rhett helped her to jump down into his arms. "You did so good, pretty girl. A regular cowboy out there," he said, hands around her waist as he pulled her closer.

She swapped their hats, placing his Stetson on his head and his cap on hers. "You go take care of Pumpkin, and I'll get the cowboy pillows ready," she said, reaching back to unclasp her bra through her shirt.

(Welp now I wanna write a fic about Cowboy Pillows)

[nurse-floyd]

How to Smile Again - Chapter 1

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x driver!reader

Warnings: mentions of injury/ some sad feelings.

You arrive at the ranch and are introduced to Rhett who shows around your new home for the next few weeks.

Rhett Abbott taglist: @vivwritesfics

Rhett didn’t know the first thing about F1 when your trainer called him to enquire about you going for some rehab there, sure he’d seen Nascar on TV as he flipped through the sports channel but his life was pretty much horses. He knew you were a driver, knew you had to be pretty good to be 1 of 20 driving on the current grid as your trainer explained to him. He also knew that you’d worked hard to get where you were. He also knew you’d had a pretty severe crash that had landed you there. 

He didn’t do much digging after that, he mostly wanted to respect your privacy and go off of what your physio and trainer told him about the incident and your surgery. Together they worked out what would be best for you, but mainly you were there for a break. Being on the grid wasn’t good for you at the moment, and everyone could see that. 

You weren’t exactly happy about coming here. No, you were used to being the one in control, but after the bad crash at the Las Vegas Grand Prix had left you with a nasty leg injury requiring surgery and weeks of physio, you were out for the remainder of the season and maybe the next if you didn’t get your strength back. That’s how you found yourself here, at a freaking ranch of all places. Your trainer and physio thought time away from the circuit and a different form of therapy would be good for you mentally and physically. 

A man dressed in worn jeans, a plaid button-up, and a Stetson was standing at the gate for your arrival. ‘Of course he would be wearing a fucking Stetson,’ you thought to yourself as the car pulled up. 

Rhett watched as you climbed out of the car, your posture stiff as you looked around. He watched as you climbed out of the car, the limp in your step wasn’t hard to miss, and neither was the slight scowl you wore on your face. He could tell there was some reluctance about being here, but he’d already gotten the heads-up from your trainer that you probably wouldn’t be in the best of moods. Still, Rhett was used to it; you weren’t the first to not want to be here and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

He gave you a smile and held out his hand for you to take, “Hey, my name’s Rhett, you must be Y/N? Your physio and trainer have told me a bit about you.” 

You narrowed your eyes slightly at him and gave him a nod and took his hand, “Yeah. I’m not exactly thrilled to be here.” 

Rhett laughed, unfazed by your bluntness, “Yeah, they also said that you might say that. How about I show you around and then show you to the cabin you’ll be staying in?” 

You took a minute to look around before you gave him a nod, just wanting to get the day over with and call your physio to tell him you were right and this was a dumb idea. There was no denying the place was beautiful. Sprawling fields filled with horses grazing. There were a couple of young children being led around the stables outside with workers, big smiles on their faces. You pulled your baseball cap lower over your eyes as you made a move to follow him, “let’s get this over with.” 

Rhett took the bag from your shoulder and led you through the main path as he pointed out the different areas of the ranch. “We’ve got the stables over there, indoor and outdoor arenas, the tack room is over there but we mainly sort that out for you.” 

You finally made it towards the cabin and it was exactly what you expected. It looked run down but cozy enough for your stay, so you had no complaints. There was a swing seat on the porch, a few plant pots around the porch to make it seem a bit more homey. 

Inside was much the same as the outside. There was a small simple kitchenette, a couch with a coffee table, and a bed. It was cozy enough and it’d do, but it was definitely run down and in need of a makeover. “Sorry it’s not much. Planned to redecorate and update it but the horses keep me pretty busy. Still, bathroom’s over there and the wifi is decent,” Rhett took the Stetson from his head and ran his hand through his hair as he looked around. 

“No…it’s fine. Thanks, Rhett,” you reassured him. ‘Not that I’ll be here long enough for it to matter,’ you thought to yourself. 

“Listen, I know this is the last place you want to be and you’re probably not interested in being here, but we can take things at your pace. No rush. When you’re ready, you can head over to the stables and I can introduce you to some of the horses.” 

You gave him a small smile and then you were alone. You took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled out your phone to text your trainer. 

‘Seriously…’ 

Your phone flashed up with the three dots showing he was replying. 

‘Give it a chance, it’ll be good for you.’ He finished it off with a cowboy emoji, which made you roll your eyes. 

After about half an hour of lying on the bed, texting Max, Logan, and Danny how pissed you were, asking them how your reserve was getting on, and how much you were missing them, you thought you might as well not keep Rhett waiting any longer. 

As soon as he saw you heading towards the paddock where a few of the horses were grazing, Rhett made his way over to you. He joined you as you leaned against the fence and as soon as she saw him, a gorgeous piebald horse trotted over and nuzzled against his face. 

“This is Hope. She’s one of our best therapy horses and loves everyone.” You watched how Rhett's face lit up with a smile as he interacted with her. 

Another larger horse joined in as it noticed Rhett giving its pasture mate attention and gave a snort. 

“Alright, jealous!” he tutted as he gave the black horse who’d trotted over a scratch. “This is Toro. Don’t let the name fool you though, he’s a gentle giant.” 

You let out a small laugh at the name, causing Rhett to raise an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” you replied, “good name.” 

He pointed out the last few horses in the field, “Over there’s Penny, Belle, and Teddy. There are a few more horses in the stables that aren’t being ridden right now if you want to come and meet them too.” 

He was patient and walked at your pace as you both headed toward the stables. There were a few empty stalls as you walked down the middle aisle, “Sam and Billy are out in the ring at the moment, but they’re my smaller boys for the younger clients we get. There’s Heidi; she’s on rest at the moment so isn’t being used.” 

You paused in front of one of the occupied stalls where a beautiful bay horse had its head leaning over the stable door at the sound of Rhett’s voice. “This is my girl, Jojo. My niece chose the name, Jolene.” 

You held out your hand to stroke her nose, and Rhett finally thought he might be getting somewhere with you opening up a little. As you scratched at Jojo’s nose, another horse let out a loud whinny, stealing both of your attention as she kicked the door once as if you hadn’t heard her the first time. 

“Who’s that?” 

“That is Peanut, Pea to her friends,” Rhett said as he led you towards the stable housing the huge chestnut mare. “She’s not usually a part of the program, a bit too stubborn and hot-headed to pair with most of our clients.” 

She was gorgeous, there was no denying that. Sure, you’d ridden horses a few times when you were younger, but not for a long time, not since your entire focus turned to karting and then Formula One. In all your time, you’d never seen a horse as gorgeous as this. Her big brown eyes stared into yours and you forgot all about your injury for a moment until you felt a painful twinge shoot through your whole body. Then you were reminded of why you were here. You were here because you couldn’t be there, at the track where you belonged, where you knew Max, and Danny and Logan were this weekend. Then the anger came back. 

“Listen, I appreciate you doing this, but you don’t have to. I told my physio I’d try this out, but I really don’t think this is for me,” you sighed. “I can’t even run without my leg hurting, so how the fuck is getting on a horse going to help me?” You didn’t mean to snap, but you’d had a long day and you were tired and in pain. 

“Hippotherapy and equine-assisted therapy have been shown to help a lot of people recover physically from injuries like yours as well as from mental health problems, PTSD.” 

“I don’t have PTSD. There are no mental health issues,” you snapped a little more than you’d meant to. Not because you were being an asshole—well, maybe a little—but after all you’d been through, you couldn’t be blamed. “I was in a crash and I hurt my leg, that’s all.” You weren’t about to tell a complete stranger about the nightmares that still plagued you, the depression at seeing your friends compete, at seeing your reserve in your seat, not traveling the world and being in near constant pain. 

“I didn’t say you—” Rhett didn’t get a chance to explain himself before you were snapping again. 

“I’m only here because I’ve been sent here. If it were my choice, I’d be in the gym or at home doing anything but this.” 

Rhett sighed and held up his hands in surrender, “Fine by me. Let me know if you change your mind,” he walked off and left you alone to cool off. 

He left you standing there next to the huge beast who nudged you playfully with her nose. “Stop that,” you chided.  

Peanut, however, didn’t listen and nudged you again. Then she decided to up her game as she began nibbling on the hood of your jacket, “I said stop it,” you gently pushed her away but she insisted. She leaned in again, a playful snort leaving her lips as she grabbed the baseball cap from your head and lifted it high in the air, nodding her head as if she was tormenting you. 

“Jerk…” you muttered under your breath. You rolled your eyes, grabbed the hat back, and gave her a pat. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all.” You sniffed as tears threatened to spill over, and buried your face in her mane. “How did I end up here, girl?” 

She nuzzled into your side, as if knowing you needed comfort in the moment. You clung onto her neck, scratching at her neck as your tears soaked into her mane. 

Rhett watched on from the corner of the stables as he went about his work. He felt weird encroaching on such an intimate moment. He’d had Belle or Penny lined up for you, but maybe he’d just found the right match, or rather Pea had. It’d be a gamble choosing her for you; usually she wasn’t a part of the program, but his instinct told him she’d be good for you. From what he’d seen so far, he might just be right. 

He left you with Peanut as he went about the rest of his business for the day and let you get settled. He knew he had his work cut out for him but he was determined to help you get back to where you wanted to be most. Back on the grid racing.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Rick Grimes with prompt no. 9 & 25!

.⋆｡The Cowboy Hat Rule｡⋆.

Rick Grimes x plus size reader

If you wear a cowboy’s hat, you have to ride the cowboy.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, teasing

WC: 505

Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

3000 Follower Celebration

It was supposed to be a joke. You had found the pristine Stetson in the back of the outlet mall an hour from Alexandra and thought it would be the absolutely funniest thing in the world if your husband donned the cap. He already had the accent, the look and the attitude of a cowboy, so all he needed was the hat!

Rick didn’t think it was as funny as you though. As soon as the hat was placed in his weathered hands, his dark eyebrows were half-way up his forehead in disbelief. “Really?” He had said simply, his tone laced with disappointment. 

“I think I could convince you.” You purred, your hands running down his strong chest to his belt buckle. “Have you ever heard of the cowboy hat rule?”

The bed frame squeaked in time with your bounces, the sounds of your mewls and Rick’s grunts fill the sex-soaked air. Your nails dug into his hairy chest as his huge palms clamped down on your thick hips, keeping your momentum going.

Your legs trembled with the effort of riding your husband but the pleasure was too great for you to stop. “Slow down there darlin’, ya don’t want to know what happens if my hat falls off.” In a slight panic, your left hand shot up and held the brim of the Stetson, keeping it from slipping off your head. The slight change in the angle of your hips sent his thick cock even deeper inside you.

Your cunt clenched down on him so tightly that Rick hissed with pain, throwing his head back against the pillows with the overwhelming sensation. “Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He snarled through gritted teeth yet never stopped bouncing you up and down on his cock. 

“Rick!” You cried, desperately close to your end. Immediately, his calloused thumb met your overworked clit, thrumming you to a glorious orgasm that quickly consumed your already frayed nerves. As you went boneless above him, Rick began to snap his hips up at a violent pace, knocking the Stetson from your head.

“Fuck!” Quickly, he pulled out and spilled his seed on his stomach with a deep moan. You huffed out a laugh and rolled off of him, collapsing onto the hard mattress. Rick’s hand found its way to your thigh, holding you gently but not bothering to yank you any closer.

“I’ll keep the hat if we can do that again.” He said breathlessly.

“Damn right we’re keeping that hat, it’s not like you had a say in it anyway.” You yelped as suddenly, your husband was on top of you, his lean body forcing itself between your thighs, his cock hardening once more.

He kissed you, sinking his teeth into your already swollen bottom lip before pulling back. “You’re gonna regret that darlin, you were the one that let it fall.” Your eyes darted to the end of the bed, where the Stetson now lay, upside down. “Your cowboy has some work to do.” He smirked.

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[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby: Part 14

a/n: There are only going to be about 4 more parts to this story I think.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000 ish

Summary: Kisses finally gets to pet a horse.

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The sound of a motor wakes you and you groan. “Is that a vacuum?” you mumble into Jake's chest. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “My mother will never directly wake a guest but she will make it known when she thinks you should get up. It’s 7:30,” he adds as an afterthought.

“I’ve turned you into a morning sleeper inner person,” you smile at him fondly. “You never used to sleep this late when we first got together”

He pulls you tighter. “I've been awake for a while actually.” He explains sheepishly. “I usually am, I like watching you sleep.”

You hide the sappy smile on your face against his chest. “That's either really creepy or romantic.”

“It's romantic.” Jake says and you can hear the grin in his voice. 

“The same way it’s romantic that I wake up in your arms 90% of the time because if you don’t hold me still I beat you in my sleep?”

“Exactly,” he pecks you on the lips before rising from bed and you whine at the loss of warmth. 

You follow Jake into the kitchen where Tammy has a big breakfast prepared. “I know you two are going trail riding later today so I wanted to make sure you had a big breakfast.” You eye the stacks of pancakes, fruit salad, scrambled eggs, and bacon. “I can make you an omelet if you’d like.”

“I’m sure this will be plenty.” You are not used to such extravagant breakfasts. Ian’s parents never made you breakfast and your own would usually stick to pancakes or bacon and eggs, never both. You help Tammy clean up and laugh at a story of how nine year old Jake almost burned the house down with a grease fire trying to make breakfast. 

“It’s not funny,” Jake insists, “It was traumatizing. It took at least a decade before I tried cooking bacon again.”

“Is that why you always have that huge lid out when you make bacon?” you ask remembering the time you tried to put the clean lid on the counter away when he was cooking.

“Its risk management,” Jake insists, “and I stand by it.”

Soon the two of you are dressed in jeans, boots, and flannel shirts and heading next door. Stacy, Jake’s highschool girlfriend, had offered to give you riding lessons and lend the two of you horses to go riding on some local trails.

You were practically bouncing in your seat. “Jake, I’m going to pet a horse today!” You shake his arm in emphasis and he grabs you hand squeezing it. When you arrive Jake parks by the house and pulls your ball cap off your head and plops a brand new Stetson, that he pulled from the backseat, on your head. 

“Now you look the part,” he says with a grin.

“Hey, it fits perfectly,” you say in amazement. You have a hard time finding hats that fit your head.

“Of course it fits,” he says, “I measured your head in your sleep.”

You are momentarily taken aback at the mental image of Jake measuring your head while you sleep but laugh it off. “You are supposed to measure your girlfriend's ring finger in her sleep,” you wiggle your empty ring finger in his face, “not her head.”

“Don't worry, I measured both.” A smile spreads across your face at that. Jake didn’t know it but you had been looking for a charging cord when yours had broken and looked in his bedside table and saw a ring box. You didn’t look inside and had quickly shut the drawer but you had been giddy with excitement. 

You had gotten it in your head that you wanted Jake to have an engagement ring too and had bought a platinum band with XOXOXOs engraved on the interior. You had been carrying it around ever since trying to figure out when Jake was going to propose so you could propose to him at the same time. The ring was currently on a necklace tucked under your shirt. 

With a timeline on your relationship, you and Jake had made frequent check-ins of where you both stood on marriage and it was looking like an engagement would happen soon.

Jake flicks the brim of your hat up and gives you a kiss before leading you down to a barn with an arena. A pretty blonde is waiting there with two horses saddled and standing sleepily in the morning sun. Jake introduces you and you smile at Stacy. “I have so many questions for you!”

She laughs, “I will give you all the dirt.”

“And I already regret introducing you.” Jake sighs.

Stacy motions you over, “this is Peanut,” she says patting the neck of a sorrel mare. “You’ll be riding her today.” You walk over and place your hand gently on the horse's warm neck, grinning ear to ear.

“Hi, pretty girl,“ you murmur. Stroking the smooth hair you turn to grin at Jake, “I’m petting a horse!” He pulls his phone out and snaps a picture of you before saying a quick goodbye and heading to the house to say hello to Stacy's parents. You turn back to Stacy and focus on her safety talk and the rundown of all the names of things. 

“OK, head over to the mounting block.” She hands you Peanut’s reins and with a deep breath you walk over to the block of wood. Following Stacy’s instructions you are able to mount but it is anything but graceful. Stacy fixes your stirrups to the proper length and mounts the other horse and the two of you begin walking around the riding arena. Stacy gives you instructions and pointers as you go.

“How long have you known Jake?” you ask as you get the hang of riding at a walk. 

“We met in diapers.” She states. “Our mothers were best friends, and our older sisters. We didn’t have the option to be anything else.”

“What was he like?” you are dying to know what child Jake was like.

“Honestly, kinda a pushover.” You laugh at that and Stacy clarifies, “I mean with most people he was fine and would stand up for himself, but if any of his sisters or I would ask him to do anything he would just agree.” 

You smile softly, you think of your Jake and the way he goes all gentle on you. The way he lets you take the lead and the way he is always checking in with you. “Yeah, that tracks,” you grin at Stacy. 

“He only didn’t listen when we told him not to do something dangerous,” Stacy adds. “He broke his leg jumping off that shed.” She points to a single story building in the distance. “I was close enough to hear the crack.” You wince. “And he broke his arm riding his bike down Thompsons Hill, I didn’t hear it that time.”

“Makes sense that he would become a pilot then.” you say thinking of your very safe and not at all daredevil childhood and very safe profession. 

“Except none of us ever told him not to become one, he just did it on his own.” You smile at that. “Come on, let's try you at a trot.” 

After an hour of lessons Jake joins you. “Ready to go on a trail ride?” he asks and you nod. Jake lengthens the stirrups of the horse Stacy was riding and puts the picnic lunch he brought from his parents in the saddle bags. He mounts and heads for the trails at the back of the property. Peanut follows Jake without much coaxing from you and the two of you head out. 

You can’t keep a grin off your face as you and Jake ride along. “This is the best.” You look over at Jake, “I’m definitely doing this again!” 

“And here I thought I dodged marrying a horse girl.” Jake tried to sigh in disappointment but his grin at your enjoyment gave him away. Total pushover. 

“So where are we going?” You had not thought to ask earlier. 

“It's a surprise.” Jake gives you a mischievous grin. And you smile back just happy to be with him. 

After a few hours you arrive at a small waterfall that tumbles into a swimming hole. “Oh,” you softly gasp out. There are trees lining the river shading the whole area. “It's beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Jake agrees, looking at you.

The two of you dismount and you groan at the stiffness in your legs laughing at your bow legged stance. “I’ll water the horses and tie Peanut up for you,” Jake grins, “You walk around a bit to loosen up.” You hand him the reins and wander around the clearing until your legs feel like they are moving normally. You flop next to Jake on grass in the shade where he has laid out a picnic. 

Jake takes your hat off and crawls over your prone form grinning down at you. “You know, the only way in is the trail we took so we should be alone.” 

“Alone you say,” and pull his lips to yours. 

The kiss quickly turns heated and flips you so you are straddling him. His hands move from cupping your cheek to ghosting down your body and sliding up your sides under your shirt. “Take it off,” you murmur. And he is quick to undo the buttons, kissing his way down your chest as you gasp for breath. Your hands are on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt.

Suddenly Jake pulls back and stills. He is staring intently at the ring resting in the dip between your breasts. “What's that?” His green eyes are unreadable. His hands are clutching your hips, holding you firmly against him.

“Shit,” you mumble, “this isn’t how I wanted to do this.” Jake's eyes fly to yours and you can see the nervousness in his expression and feel the tension in his body. You fumble with the necklace and remove the ring.

Holding it out to him you smile, “Jake Seresin, you have become the most important person in my life. I love every minute we spend together, even when you piss me off, and I know there will be times we can't be together but having you as my future will be worth it.” His jaw is open and he is staring up at you in awe, realizing what is happening. “Jake, will you–”

Jake's lips cut you off. His hands are everywhere and his lips do not leave yours. The ring is clutched in your hand and your arms wrap around his neck holding him close. He has rolled you underneath him again before he finally raises his head to grin down at you. “Yes, Kisses,” his lips meet yours again. “I’ll marry you.” 

You grin up at him impishly. “That's great, Jake but I never made it to asking that question.” you glance over at the water bottles beside you. “I was going to ask you to pass me some water.” You point at the water like it’s obvious, unable to keep the joy from your face. 

“I’ll fix this," he mutters rolling his eyes and stands abruptly, heading over to the saddlebags on his horse, you sit up to watch him. He grabs something and returns to you dropping down on one knee in front of you holding up the open ring box. 

“Kisses, you are a cheeky pain in the ass sometimes, like right now,” you laugh, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. ”You have consumed every waking thought of mine since I met you over a year ago. And the moments keep getting better, the day I found you, our first kiss, when you told me you loved me, the day we moved in together, today. Everything with you keeps getting better and better. So Kisses, will you–” 

You lean forward, trying to cut him off with a kiss like he did to you, but Jake sees the look on your face and leans back. “–marry me?” 

“Yes,” you pull him into a kiss. “I’ll marry you Jake.”

[grogusmum]

A Smutty Little Jack Daniels Imagine

I've tried to do a Jack "Whiskey" Daniels fic several times, and I just can't get beyond the idea phase...

Maybe I just can't find him, his voice, something unique I can bring to him... I don't know.

Here is one, still just in an imagine/idea phase, I have literally posted and taken down, and I just don't know if it's something... but chatting with @oonajaeadira , she reminded me who I write for and why, so decided to post it again. We write for ourselves but we share for community. I hope you enjoy.

Warning: poorly executed oral sex (f receiving) it's a pity really

Okay, Ginger pretty clearly lets us know that Jack is not the best lover. But generally speaking, as a fandom, we have decided that Jack is a far more generous and skilled lover than canon tells us . Maybe because it's Pedro (and we literally can not imagine it), or because he has such a sincere and tragic love for his high school sweetheart wife and their little baby whom he has lost... idk. So I was thinking, what if we allow the canon to stand?

Jack Facts:

Fact #1: Can't find your clit to save his life

Fact #2: No foreplay to speak of

Fact #3: He's just terrible, just really bad

Until he meets you...

maybe even at the very same Music Festival that he got swiped left at

You see him go up to Coachella Girl with all his corny swagger and get rejected

But look at him, that dimple, that pout, those jeans, did he say 'what's tinder'?? Adorable

She instead goes for the guy in the track suit jacket and ball cap, cute for sure, but a boy

So you decide chat up "Stetson"

After some flirting, you conclude he is incredibly corny and bit of a goofball, but there's an undeniable charm

You like him and take him back to where your staying

He really talks himself up

All "Ride a real cowboy" "have you calling my name as loud as you want" yada yada

You wonder if he's all talk

But he's a good kisser, a very good kisser, and him calling you "sugar" does something to you

Alas, when you get down to it, his head between your legs, broad shoulds keeping them open wide, he is enthusiastic but sadly incompetent

Every once in awhile he brushes your clit with his mustache or that gorgeous nose and it's a fleeting glimps of heaven but he completely misreads every moan and gasp and does more of what ever the hell his mouth is doing

It's bad if you want him to slow down he speeds up, more to the left he does to the right, no instinct

Finally, you pull him up with sigh

Oh my Gods, he is looking at you with puppy dog eyes. With all his big talk, you'd think the problem is that he is a selfish lover, but you can see he wants to please you

So you are kind and ask him about his experience

He can't tell you about the spy aspect of his experience, of course, but what he does tell you gives you the picture of a whole lot if one-off experiences

You ask if there has been anyone he's reslly gotten to know and experiment with

And his high-school sweet heart - love of his life - wife comes into the conversation

He doesn't say, but you can tell she was somehow taken from him, tgeres a bittersweet shine in his eyes

He admits they were each others first- shy and inexperienced and pretty straightforward in their lovemaking but enthusiastic

You nod and tell him if it were you in high school and he simply put his hand on your knee, you would have melted

He looks down with a crooked smile and then up at you with those hopeful big brown puppy eyes

"Okay," you say, "can you be a good listener, Jack?" He nods enthusiastically. "Get down there, cowboy, I think we can sort this whole thing out."