#Cowboy!Dean AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deanoheartspie · 11 months

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Sunshine 2

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Summary: After your family cut you off, your great-aunt Laura invited you over to her ranch you often visited when you were just a child... You drive through the beautiful town until you accidentally graze a horse that just so happens to be the sheriffs...

Warnings: None

A/N: Let me know what you think and what your theories are!

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•°Y/N POV°•

“Well hello darlin.” The green eyes look down at me, with a smirk.

You got to be kidding. I'm just waiting for John Quiñones, (From what would you do) to pop up from a bush and throw a microphone in my face. Nope. This was very real. Well fuck.

“What are you doing here? Following me like a creep I see.” I mutter under my breath as I cross my arms.

Clayton and Laura are trying to bite back their laughs, which earned an eyebrow raise from me, What were these two up two and what did they know that I didn't?

“Y/n... Honey this is our ranch hand and the town's sheriff. Have you both met before?” Aunt Laura finally speaks, as she looks between you and the tall green-eyed man.

My mouth parts, you've got to be shitting me. Can this day get any worse?

“I can say we have, did she tell ya how she grazed Lilah? I can lock her up if you want she's a little suspicious, especially with the littering of her ticket that was left on the street.” The man spoke while looking me up and down, with an amused grin.

Clayton crosses his arms as Laura covers her mouth she burst into a fit of giggles. “Hmm nah, I'll just have her clean the poor thing up for bathtime”

I mentally cringe, I've never been good with animals especially since they carry so much responsibility that I knew if I had gotten a pet I wouldn't be able to take care of it to the best of my ability and that wouldn't be fair to it.

“Dean, will you take her out back to the stables so I can go feed her please” Laura softly asked, he nodded as he had the horse follow him back to the stables.

Dean. Finally a name to the face. It suited him.

My uncle helps bring my bags up to the room they had ready, honestly I remembered it because it was the room I used to stay in, and let me tell you, it hadn't changed one bit.

The floors were creaky, bed frame older than me. Dust everywhere, maybe some spring cleaning would be nice. It was clear the room hadn't been used since I had left, and that left me a little sad that no one else visited them.

“Thanks...” I give a smile, Clayton pats my shoulder with a little nod before heading back downstairs.

Unlocking my phone I scroll through some of my messages, most from my mother...

Never once had it been about what I wanted... I practically was raised by nannies which was better than nothing because some kids weren't always lucky to experience that. I just wanted my parents... For them to care and love me, but they never really did.

“Ah, looks like I have a new neighbor” Dean mumbles as he steps inside the room, with his hands in his pockets.

“What do you mean?” I sit up turning my phone off, not wanting to see my mothers reply.

“I'm in the room next to ya, Clay and Laura wanted me to make you a list of 'chores' you'll need to do while you are here for free. So you'll be taking most of my nonheavy responsibilities because who'd want to hurt a city gal like you?”

He smirks as he leans against the doorframe while looking me up and down.

“Why are you living with them?” I ask curiously, sometimes my nosiness got the best of me...

“And that sweetheart isn't any of your business. Plus I work for them so they offered a room so I took the offer.” He muttered as he handed over the list.

He turned on his boots, walking off to what I assume is his room. Glancing at the list that contained, picking up horse shit, feeding, and grooming the animals. I scrunch my nose, he pretty much gave away all the nasty shit to me.

-----------------The next morning----------------

~BEEP~ ~BEEP~ ~BEEP~

I hear an alarm go on and on...I bury my head under the blanket. When I realize it wasn't going off anytime soon I bang my hand against the wall, to tell that green-eyed cowboy to shut the hell up.

“Wakey wakey sweetheart, the shit won't pick up itself” I hear the deep gruff voice, I peek my head out of the blanket seeing Dean holding the alarm that continued to go off until I tossed a shoe at him.

“Easy there tiger, Good morning” Dean puts his hands up as he reveals the alarm out of his hands and onto the floor peacefully and finally quiet.

I check the time... His he serious? It's 5:30 am Is this man crazy? I think so.

As Dean walks the floors creaked with every step, and it started to get on my nerves. A few seconds pass by and I realize he isn't going to go until I get up, I groan rolling out of bed, and start going through the dressers pulling out a nice white flowy dress.

“You're going to wear that?” He asked looking the dress up and down, with a slight cringe. I look at him a little confused and my head tilts to the side.

“Yeah... What's wrong with it?” I look at it again, seeing if it and any dirt or stains on it.

“Did you bring anything that you can remotely get dirty in? I wouldn't recommend a dress unless you want it all fucked up. Wear jeans and a T-shirt, oh and some boots. Not the high heel ones.” He clarifies. I stand there awkwardly seeing I just packed skirts and dresses not expecting to get down and dirty.

“Heh..” Rubbing the back of my neck, I look at him when I see he has a moment of realization.

“Are you serious Y/n, You didn't bring anything somewhat comfy?” Dean sighs as he leans back against the doorframe.

“I had been in a rush... I didn't have exactly very much time to pick and choose what I wanted” I whisper as I shift uncomfortably, hell I still had my wedding dress in the truck. That whole day was a disaster.

Dean slowly nods, probably feeling that I wouldn't want to talk about it. He rubs a hand over his face before checking his watch. “Let's get you some clothes then, you'll need them for tonight and for the rest of the time you are here”

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The drive to the town had been short, the stores had just started to open but plenty of people were already out and about going on with their day.

It was quiet. It felt quite refreshing, especially being in the city my whole life.

“Good mornin' sheriff” A guy on the bench started up a conversation with Dean, which resulted in me going into a store called blitz and Glamour by myself.

Right when I walk in a girl my age starts up a conversation with me and helps me find a few cute items, I quickly learned her name is Charlie and she just got out of tech school but her parents wanted her back down here for the summer. The redhead was quite talkative but at the then... I think I might've made my first friend here. Maybe this place won't be so bad after all.

“Oh- fuck sorry!” I accidentally bump into a woman, and Dean was quick to walk over to help pick up all the bags. “Lisa. How are Ben and Aurora?” He asks as stands up straight while holding the bags.

Who is this Lisa and who the heck are Ben and Aurora? It wasn't my business so I slowly backed up leaving the green eyed-man with the darker hair woman. After a few minutes he saw them bicker, well it was more of the woman than Dean he kinda just stood there and took it. As if he was used to it.

And let me tell you... He didn't look to happy when he came back over.

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Chapter 3

----Tag list----

@deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @mrsjenniferwinchester @ladysparkles78 @hobby27 @khaleesihavilliard @foxyjwls007 @lucidlivi @jc-winchester @globetrotter28 @beskarfilms @the141bandicoot @alysinwonderland-at-tea @randomgurl2326 @ambergoddess444 @westernwinchesters

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thepixelagora · 1 year

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Decided to colour this piece, now with 100% more cowboy hats.

Kofi | Commissions

#cowboys in love #thank you to doctorprofessorsong for suggesting this piece #spn #spn art #supernatural #supernatural art #deancas #destiel #cowboys au #my art #dean winchester #castiel #creativecaviar

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saiyan-druid-art · 1 year

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These cowboys are not so secretly fond of each other 🤠🐎

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this-theoo · 2 days

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This is one of his favorite works, I think it suits him very well.

#digital painting #artwork #artists on tumblr #drawing #sketch #digital art #jason dean #JD #heathers #swap au #boothill #hsr #outfit #cowboy

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povcastiel · 10 months

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ROAD TO REDEMPTION

[ Well, well, well… I’ve been sitting on this for so long, I caved and decided to allow you all into my mind. My first official series! Giddy up ya’ll, it’s time for outlaw Dean Winchester! As always, please, please let me know what you think and if you wish to be tagged on future postings. Series Main Post Here ]

Synopsis | It’s been five years without him. You’ve moved on, made a new life for yourself. But no one can really outrun the past, right?

Tags | Supernatural Western!AU, Cowboy!Dean, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Winchester Brothers, Outlaws, BrothelWorker!Reader, Female!Reader, Priest!Castiel, Dean x Reader

Warnings | Eluding to violence, Minor sexual context, Angst, Loathing, Mentions of blood/harm, Mentions of religion

Word Count | 3k~

Rating | R, MDNI

Barren land stretched on for miles, out in the open with only the stars and moon to spy upon you. A raging fire warmed your cheeks, now a rosy shade and possibly darker if he was to continue looking at you in that way. He stoked the flames a while longer, as they licked higher and higher into the air, until eventually settling. A crackle and pop were the only sounds that passed in the silence between you. Dean rose to his feet. His frame towering and broad. You proceeded to pull the quilt, around your shoulders, more tightly to your hunched form. He tended to the horse in the meantime.

“We’ll have to move by first light.” He informed you, his voice distant but soft.

The hair that was once tucked behind your ear had fallen down against the side of your face. Thick and long, cascading down your back.

“I know…” You murmured, clearly lost within your own thoughts. Your eyes drifted down to the torn, tattered fabric of your lace trimmed dress. Leather boots just as worn to accompany.

Suddenly, he was kneeling in front of you. His hat was left hanging on his satchel. The glow of the fire illuminated his features, delicate for someone so burly and gruff. His face covered in a shadow of stubble, hair long and pushed back. A white undershirt clung to his chest, jeans covered in dirt, barely even a shade of blue. He reached for your hand, wrapped snug in a torn piece of your cotton gown. The blood had soaked through and worry seemed to stretch across his brow when he looked it over.

“It’s okay.” You attempted to reassure him, but your tone wasn’t as convincing as you’d hoped. He dismissed it and went on to unwrap the makeshift bandage.

“How bad does it hurt?” He asked, green eyes raging with concern. His soft fingertips ghosted over your wrist, a contrast to how rough they appeared. His hands alone could tell stories of what he’d endured, the life he’s lived.

“Not bad.” You shrugged, as the blanket fell off one of your shoulders. That was a lie. The cut was deep, and had been throbbing the entire journey.

He reached for his canteen of water and laid it in your lap. Encouraging you to hydrate, while he pulled out a familiar silver flask. The cap spun with a metal swirl and before he could chug down what was left, you opted for the alcohol over water. Dean was easily caught off guard, watching the liquid flowing into your mouth. You gulped and bared the sting with tight closed lips, before using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth.

“Easy, darlin’…” He snickered, taking a swig. “Drink some water. You’ll need it.” He insisted, motioning to the jug.

“Are you implying I’m weak?” You quipped with a raised brow.

“I ain’t saying anything, but you tend to find yourself in a lot of trouble.” He chuckled, low in his chest. White teeth gleaming. Such a charmer he was.

…

The thunder crashed on. Rain steady against the roof. Dry ground had now turned to mush. Clear Tusk had been swallowed by the night and just as usual, you had a job to do. Although, given your sympathy, your client duties had been temporarily put on hold. Specifically to aid a young girl. Fresh blood, with a look of naivety. Easy prey.

At least that’s how the men would see it.

It had been her first night. Her acquaintance hadn’t been so friendly. Needless to say, she was reduced to a puddle of emotions. Crying and loathing in self pity. You were one to give her a pass. A simple understanding, as you’d seen yourself in her. There was a time too, in which you had to find your own footing. You just didn’t particularly have this line of work in mind.

Her red strands of hair were now wet streaks against her freckled face. Pursed lips, on the verge of quivering again. She settled her tears on the way to the church. You trudged through mud, stomping it off on the wooden porch and led her in through the front. The door heavily slammed behind you, which left her jumping with fright. You wrapped an arm around her frail form, soothing her fears as your boots clanked and creaked against rotting, old floor boards. Somehow, this place was holding together.

You knew well that Cas, the town’s only priest, would call it ‘the Grace of God.’

Whether you believed that yourself, was another story.

Candles were lit along each pew. The sound of rain was consistent against poorly sealed windows. Which would explain the tin buckets collecting water. Castiel appeared. He must have heard the door. His figure came into view from the other side of the vast, yet cramped, room. He was clutching a bible, his index and middle fingers tucked between the thin pages to keep his place. His black suit blended against the dark tone of the room, his white collar the only means for him to stand out.

He addressed you by name. Familiar and gentle. Despite your lack of religion, Cas brought an inexplicable aura of peace and calmness. You felt safe here and you knew that Merrien would too.

She sniffled and extended a hand to him. He immediately tore his blue orbs off of you and greeted her with a new found warmth. He smiled, tenderly. “Hello. You two seem to be comin’ from something troubling?” He looked between the two of you. His voice full of gravel.

You spoke for her, “She just needs somewhere safe to rest for the night. I thought here would be best.” You clarified the situation, preferring not to go into detail.

Castiel nodded, briefly pausing, but he was quick to regain himself. “Well, right this way.” He extended his arm for guidance. Merrien was reluctant, but she walked ahead of him and toward his study.

Before you could see yourself out, he was turning back and coming toward you. Your hands still clutching the skirt of your dress. You noticed his wandering gaze then, once you had faced him. Surely he noticed the tucked fabric, pinned to your hip and revealing a set of stockings, your bare skin visible, beneath your gown. It was certainly more erotic than he was used to.

The preacher cleared his throat. “You know I’m good for the help, but I really wish you wouldn’t subject yourself to this madness.” He mumbled. Now he sounded like a figure of authority. The treatment you had been desperate to escape from. The prison your father had created.

You averted your gaze, all but scoffing. “I’m serious. You take in a new victim n’ some dirt bag roughs her up.”

“We are not victims!” You hissed, disliking in how he seemed to put the blame on you. As if you led the poor girl into a trap.

“No, but you’ve chosen a life that invites evil. Ever since those Winchester’s rode off you’ve-“ You cut him off. “I’m not here to be guilted to kneel at your altar and confess my sins.” Your tone was biting. “Goodnight, Father.” You turned sharp on your heels and hurriedly made your exit.

…

The man did his best to tend to your wound, ensuring it wouldn’t become infected. You were thankful for his attentiveness. If you were honest, this was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him.

He used a clean cloth, his bandana rather, to wrap your hand again and secured it with a side knot. After his doctoring, you’d found yourself migrated to the hard ground, using all the blankets he possessed to keep warm. You used his arm for a pillow, while he opted for his jacket, bunched up and rolled to support him.

Somewhere in between the burning heat of flames, your skin, and your feelings—an overwhelming urge washed over you. His leg tucked between your own, half on his side as he hovered above you. His mouth eagerly tasted you in a bruising kiss. It took all the breath from your lungs, for a moment you forgot to breathe entirely. A heavy exhale blew from your nostrils, while your fingers tangled into his chestnut strands. He barely had to touch the sleeve of your dress, before it was hanging off your shoulder. Revealing more of your lithe, warm skin. He kissed you there. His wet lips leaving a trail. First your collar bone. Next, your throat. A soft sigh emits from you and he’s pleased to hear it.

There’s a moment you look at each other. Chests heaving with anticipation. And it’s then that you taste the sweetness of your self autonomy. The choice to be his. The possibility to make a life outside of judgement and fear. Dean’s known this kind of emancipation since his father’s death, even before then. Constantly running. Town to town. Despite the erratic uncertainty, you were envious. And yet, somehow, this man was willing to risk all of it to give you a piece of liberation.

Youthful lust grows heavy. You’re fumbling with his belt, as his hands roughly hike your dress up your legs. You’ve never wanted him more and you’re surprised by your sudden desire, especially after the day’s events.

Then again, it seemed unlikely there’d ever be a moment when you wouldn’t want Him.

…

The anger in the pit of your stomach was bubbling to the surface, rising in your throat, the entire walk back to the brothel. You didn’t even bother to use your shawl, the garment hanging low below your waist and loosely holding at your arms.

You weren’t sure if hearing his name or the insinuation of bad intent had triggered you. Either way, you had your fill for the evening.

Despite your foul mood, the atmosphere remained the same. Music filtered through the bar and up the stairs. Every round table was occupied. The bartender satisfied his customers from a range of stacked liquor, on shelves that nearly looked ready to cave. The room was packed, giving no one a choice but to sweat. Once you entered, their eyes were roaming. A rowdy crowd of cowboys, the town sheriff and his men, along with a few townsfolk. They were all well-known faces. Every last one, a strong reminder of how much you wished to leave.

You climbed the staircase, with limited space from clients nearly over the railing with their public affection. The smell of liquor and cigars lingered, a hard smell to filter. Especially out of your clothes. It was something you’d grown accustomed to.

Your door was left ajar. Pushing it wide open, you disregarded the man inside. You sat behind your vanity and proceeded to pull the pins from your hair, unleashing your mess of hair. Arthur rose from your bed, creaking in its wake. He took a swig from the bottle in his hand.

“I’m not in the mood.” You informed him. You hadn't even bothered to look at him.

He was a routine customer, though you wished he wouldn’t come at all.

Your hands were busy rolling your stockings down, when sat his sweating bottle onto your table. He leaned behind your chair, his fist gathering your hair and forcing you upright. Your reflection met his own in the rounded mirror. Your jaw tightened. It was all just a delightful game for him.

“What do I pay ya for, sweetheart?” He gruffed against your ear. His beard scratching your skin.

You grimaced at his hot breath.

“You’ll do well to know your place.”

“And you’ll do well to call it a night.” You turned toward him. If it hadn’t been your father, you weren’t sure you’d have the confidence to tell off a man half your size. His grip painfully pulled at your scalp. Your nose brushed his, and you weren’t quite sure how his mood would shift. His lips smashed against yours. Sloppy and warm.

Eventually, he released you. Not without force, as your hands gripped the front of your vanity to steady yourself. The small legs skidding against the floor. You exhaled, mainly due to your irritation, as his boots heavily shuffled toward the door. Eventually, his movements were drowned out by the people beyond your room and you rose quickly to slam and latch the door shut. Your hands laid flat against the surface of the wood, head hung low.

There was the unmistakable sensation of emotions welling in your chest. Brutal memories flooding back to torture you and you refused to drown. Not again.

Not after five long years of letting him go.

You’d keep swimming, like always. Just as you had, right after your mother’s sudden death. An event that transformed your father into an unrecognizable monster. Possessed by the all consuming tainted liquid. It replaced his wife, soon it even replaced his own daughter.

Shaky fingers worked on undressing yourself. Layer by layer, lace by lace to undo your corset. The four walls that barricaded you from the outside, were a modest display of your dwelling. A wooden nightstand, lopsided by a shortened leg. On top rested a single candle and your father’s old pocket watch. Your vanity was turned diagonal against the corner and facing toward your bed, a wash basin directly beside that. A trunk and dresser to fit most of the things you owned combined.

There was a part of you that was deemed to feel ashamed of your circumstances. A string of poor choices to lead you here. One starting with your relationship to Dean Winchester.

You’d begin to wonder if he was even alive. Maybe all those bad deeds had caught up with him. ‘May God rest his soul,’ Castiel had always put it, when expressing his worry about the outlaw brothers. Sam, specifically, was always viewed as less threatening than his older sibling. Your truth, on the other hand, was something far different than what the town had depicted.

Their faces covered every post and front door through town. It amused you to think that the posters held any sort of value, in terms of gaining information. It was unlikely they’d show their faces again. So many years had passed, but you were aware that the sheriff had a grudge to hold. You were guilty of the same effect—the inability to move on. The inexhaustible attempts of letting time heal those open wounds. Regardless, Dean was a kind of love that burned until it scarred. And even if by some miracle he came striding back into town, dapper as ever and sweeping you off your feet. It was far too late.

If you hadn’t been able to forgive him after all these years, it was unlikely that day of reckoning would come.

…

The brim of his hat covered his eyes, resting against the bridge of his nose. His brother was concentrated, a journal against his thigh, while he scribbled down his thoughts. The scratching of his pencil was disturbing Dean, propped against the smooth edge of a rock.

“For the love of God Sam, get some rest.” He gruffed, throwing his hat down into the dirt.

“I’m almost done.” He muttered, while proceeding to write out the date at the bottom of the page. Finally, he shut the book and wound the straps around the cover to keep it closed. He stood, tucking the prized possession into his satchel. His boots shuffled against the ground. Dean, opened an eye.

He grunted, proceeded to sit up right. “Gimme that.” He motioned toward the silver flask. Sam bent down to grab the container, before handing it off to his brother.

“What’s going on?” He asked, before chugging down the whiskey. Each gulp burning more than the last. He swallowed the alcohol with ease.

Sam sat back on the blanket, the flames dancing in his eyes. A familiar expression resting on his features. Revealing to Dean that he was anxious.

“I know that look. What is it, Sammy?” He prodded again.

Sam exhaled, “I just… I don't think this is a good idea.” He disclosed.

“What? Goin’ home?” Dean responded, questioning him as if it was obviously their right to do so.

Sam shook his head, glancing out over the stretch of dry land. His eyes slowly following back to Dean.

“You know what I mean.”

“Clear Tusk is our home. We have every right to be there, just as much as those sons of bitches. It ain’t right Sam… you know it.” He ranted, clearly upset by his brother’s reluctance.

Sam accepted defeat on the matter. Despite being worried they wouldn’t have the welcoming Dean anticipated. Not to mention, the possibility of violence or even arrest. Those outcomes never phased his brother, not when he had his heart set on something.

Not that the two men had known any different. Their mother died, as a result of their father’s recklessness. Hellbent on revenge, he raised his children to be just as callous. This, in return, wasn’t enough to stop Sam or Dean from trying to escape. In fact, once Dean had met you, there was hope in the idea that he would, for once, be truly happy. Sam had never seen him so infatuated. Unfortunately, a whirlwind romance like theirs couldn’t stand on two feet. Her father refused the relationship from day one, because of their family’s reputation. Secrecy ensued, as did their demise.

Dean and you had calculated a plan to leave. To run away. The two of you would start over in another town, another place where your faces were unrecognizable.

Of course, after realizing what had transpired, your father caused a ruckus in town. The sheriff rounded his men and where you chose to rest hadn’t been quite far enough.

Aurthur, Kalvin, and Henry had ripped you from Dean in every sense of the word. The image branded into his mind, painfully. Your screams, all for him, forever haunting. The other two had subdued him with a few blows. Intent on killing him. He regretted never turning back for you. Like a coward, he ran to meet his brother.

In those long few days, you actually waited. Something Dean wasn’t aware of. Starving and locked in your room, you laid beneath your window. Listening for his arrival, his return to rescue you. Gradually, agonizingly, the days turned into weeks, turned into months.

Eventually, Dean settled his mind and folded his arms over his chest, before laying back. “Go to sleep…” He muttered to his brother.

By morning… the Winchester’s would be back.

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #castiel #spn #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #sam winchester #cowboy!Dean Winchester #cowboy!sam winchester #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #western!au #castiel x y/n #Dean Winchester x y/n

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susyrose-fanart · 1 month

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Wanted man - Art master post (DeanCas Wild West Fest)

Here is the art I did for @hexentaenzerin 's fabulous fic Wanted man, that you can read here ! 🤠🧡

@dcwildwestfest

#destiel #destiel fanart #dean winchester #castiel #deancas wild west fest #cowboy au #apple pie

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rivers-oc · 2 months

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moonlightdistractions · 1 year

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imagine cowboy Jared Padalecki coming back home and seeing a young Jensen Ackles working on his family's ranch:

he'd keep it together for a little while, ignoring the palpable want, but soon enough you'll see him doing this:

the end.

#lol this is exactly what my brain did upon seeing those young Jensen on the ranch photos #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #or maybe a Sam and Dean au! oooh #age difference #cowboy!jared #cowboy!jensen #j2 #j2 rpf #my edit

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ritartist42 · 1 year

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Gotta be honest, I think this is one of my favorites. idk man I worked pretty hard on this, like it took almost 4 days (mostly because I have to study all the time, but still)

I had this idea of a story where Dean and Cas go to a small town to investigate some spookie stuff. It turns out to be a nothing-burger but in the mean time people mistake Cas riding a horse for a pegasus and a new town legend is born. Yeah...i cant write :( i just draw.

Okay, so the elements (everything was drawn individually):

This is my beefy-est .sai file yet lol

Also, you won't catch this left hand drawing Cas without wings probably for a long time..

Thank you @malicmalic for asking me to tag you <3

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deanoheartspie · 9 months

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Sunshine 4

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Let me know what you think and what your theories are!

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

DEAN'S POV

**BEEP** **BEEP** **BEEEEP**

Groaning I pull the extra pillow over my head as I bury my head in it. My head was pounding, the bright sun shining through the windows making it worse.

“Rise and shineee~” A voice sang out, awfully chirppy this morning. “Y/n. Go away” I grumbled gently pushing the woman who was now climbing up onto the bed shaking me awake.

She giggles. She fuckin giggles. Which if it were any other circumstance I probably would've cracked out a smile. “Y/n I swear to god-” I turn to lay on my back, and rub my eyes seeing her dressed in a nice pair of overalls with her y/h/c perfectly braided.

“Pay backs a bitch isn't it” She grins before walking off, her hips swaying side to side it was a nice view I had to admit. I shake my head getting my head out of the gutter before turning to my side seeing headache medicine and water on my nightstand.

Well thank you y/n...

I take the meds and down the water, checking my watch I already see im late on my routine which never really happens unless it's a bad night. Tossing some old jeans and a t-shirt with my boots and brown cowboy hat, I head downstairs seeing the lights on throughout the house.

“Wow son you look like shit” Clayton says from his arm chair, a news paper in hand.

“Clayton!” Laura shouted smacking the back of her husbands head. I tiredly chuckle “I feel like shit” I rub my temple, pouring some coffee into a mug.

The older man glances over and sets his newspaper down on the coffee table, “Go easy on Y/n please. She might not be good at this but it's because she's never had to do it before.” sure. I know I can be mean at times, but im not an asshole.

“Yes sir, I'll show her what she needs to know” Finshing up my coffee, I look over at her and gesture to the door walking out her following behind as I walk off to the stables.

°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Horses need to eat first, so you'll give them their grains and hay. Then some of these extra carrots.” I spoke as I pull out the bin of food and basket of carrots. Carefully watching over her, not wanting the woman to get her hand bit off.

Lilah the horse who she previously grazed, was giving the woman the biggest side eye i'd ever seen. I whistle at the tall horse, tilting my head “Be nice.” I warn when I notice Y/n stopped and watched me.

“Who would've thought big ole grumpy deano would protect me from a horse” She grins placing her hands on her hips, I roll my eyes “Well if you want your hand to get bit off, be my guest”

A messy long slow, morning goes by Y/n already covered in mud from the countless times she'd fallen and I've got to say it was much nicer to have someone to work with then do it all myself.

“You did pretty good for your first day” I compliment as we sit on one of the hay bales looking over the fields. She nods but stays quiet. I couldn't tell if it was the sun in her eye but her eyes were glossy.

I felt my heart drop, straight worry fills me as I face her seeing a tear stream down her face. Had I said something wrong? What had happened she had just been laughing not even a few minutes ago, hell she even wanted to race out to the field.

“Y/n... What's wrong?” I softly asked, gently wiping her eyes.

She shook her head and faked a smile, “Oh nothing, it's just quite beautiful out here can't help but make a woman cry” I hesitantly nod my head, still unsure but it wasn't my job to take care of her nor care too. Still I found myself worrying, not wanting to push it I leave it and get off the haybale after receiving a call.

“What? Again? I swear to god what is wrong with that man” I grumble, after hearing that Mr Andrews a 60 year old man who kept letting his unfriendly pitbull roam the town without it's owner.

I've always preferred dogs over cats, but after this pickles the dog might ruin it for me.

Sighing I hang out up, glancing at her offering my hand which thankfully you accepted, “Let's get you back...”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Four fucking hours. Four fucking hours it took to chase down Mr pickles.

Which only put me in a deeper hole then I already was in, making me rush over to Lisa's seeing her glare. Thank the lords, Aurora jumped into my arms after noticing me.

“Hey pretty girl how are you?” I ask softly pushing her light brown hair behind her ears, The small girl was quick to ramble talking about preschool, her friends, the yucky lunch she had, pretty much anything a toddler can tell you. I send her to grab her bag leaving me with the darker haired woman, who was occupying herself by cleaning the kitchen.

“Why are you late this time?” She asked not bothering to spare me a glance, while she wiped down the counters.

“Work. I had to chase Mr pickles today” I mutter out, itching the back of my head praying that Aurora would hurry.

“Sure you did. You sure it wasn't a particular woman keeping you busy?”

Who was she talking about? I sure as hell didn't come from the bar with a woman but if I did it wouldn't have been her business. So that leaves y/n.

“Y/n? The girl at the ranch?”

Lisa's silence told me everything I needed to know and I shook my head letting out a huff. She has been on my ass for the past year, about all of this. I can't hang out with who I want to hang out with because she didn't like it, it got exhausting after awhile. Especially when we weren't even together anymore.

Aurora skipped down the stairs with her unicorn backpack, and her arms full with stuffed animals. “is Ben not coming?” I ask with a head tilt as I scoop up the 4-year-old.

“No he's staying at a friends house” Nodding I let the mother and daughter say goodbye before leaving as we head our way to the ranch.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Clay Clay!!” The little girl screached out hugging the older man.

“Ah I see what it is now” I act offended that I didn't get a greeting like that.

What I didn't notice was Y/n walking down the stairs until she came into my eye sight, she looked happier then before so it felt glad and relieved.

“Who's this little one?” She asks smiling down at Aurora.

“My daughter.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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