𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ: abuse, mentions of sex, manipulation, tampering with birth control/medication, arranged marriage ahhh story ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა, i do not condone this! based on a tumblr mood board i saw :3 farmer’s daughter reader! x henry bowers
manipulated
the barn was your home—your soul.
you had always been your father’s daughter, helping your mother around the house and doing your chores on the farm to help your dad. they loved you dearly, so it wasn’t a shocker when they suggested about boys and whatnot.
‘ain’t travis a good man, ain’t he?’
or,
‘i talked to carter’s mother and she seems to really like you.’
but none of their suggestions seemed to work on you, so your parents had another plan to protect you. they set you up with the sheriff’s son. normally, this wouldn’t have been an issue, but Officer Bowers’ son was a huge dick. Especially before he graduated. the kid was known for being a heartless, cold asshole. the only reason the older man was doing this was to get Henry off his lazy ass and marry a girl instead of just sleeping around and not doing anything. plus think of all the extra money he could spend on beer!
butch wanted his son out of the house. stat. so when you turned sixteen, your parents invited butch and henry to come over. farmer to farmer, i guess. and that’s when they revealed the news. you both were getting married. at first you thought it was a joke, but as you saw the scowl on henry’s face, you knew it wasn’t.
when you were seventeen, the wedding day came and you couldn’t have been more upset in your life. you’ve never acted so fake, but you put on a little smile while Henry got drunk. the whole time butch and your parents joked and laughed about you and henry, how you both looked so cute together and how you ‘fixed’ the dirty blond. '..you both better start on the children right now..I want a little grandson to spoil..’
you could still hear butch’s words, snickering at the thought of having a little grandson to run around his house. the thought made you cringe, making your stomach turn. henry didn’t seem all too pleased either—not from the thought of having a child with you, it was from the thought of his father spoiling some little brat instead of him when he was growing up.
the night was a blur, all you remembered was driving henry home into the house he now owned. the house he grew up in. the living room reeked of the smell of beer and cigarettes, matching the aesthetic of the pale, eerie yellow walls that were covered in officer bowers’ trophies—his taxidermy animals that he hunted and stuffed himself.It reminded of when you and your dad went hunting together when you were a kid, but something told you that henry’s dad went by himself.
the dirty blond’s words were slurred and all messed up, obviously drunk off his mind. the sweat dripped off of his forehead like little raindrops landing on bare, clean windows—the start of a rainy, cold day. ‘mmn..get off..’
he whined and groaned as you helped him get onto the couch. itwas hard and rough, way too uncomfortable for any normal person wanting to sit there. the old fabric had gone through a lot—considering the countless beer stains and spillage onto the poor, now ruined couch. you still remember what you said to him, your head reeling at the past memories that seemed like forever ago but had only been a few weeks.‘..i’m just trying to help…if you weren’t such a stubborn ass, maybe you wouldn’t have taken all those shots..’
you learned your place very quickly in the bowers home. your job was to not be such a horrible wife, which meant cooking, cleaning, and sometimes going out to get groceries and help on the farm. that was it. henry had always been keen on roles—he was the provider after all. the man of the house now. his mother was a housewife before she left him and his father, so his daddy’s rules were all he’s ever known. after his mother left, he was left to do the chores, picking up and doing her dirty work. maybe that’s why he was such a piece of shit, his daddy beating on him for doing the slightest thing wrong or how he was raised without a female figure in his life.
no, that wasn’t the reason.
you’ve met some of the sweetest people who have gone through that stuff. people who weren’t such pieces of shit. It had to be something else, right?
bowers had looked the same since highschool. he dressed the same, acted the same, and still had those cold, careless blue eyes that made his victims shiver every time they made eye contact with him.
his hair was even the same—his fingers would run into his dirty blond locks, still the same chin length mullet from the late eighties. you say that, but it was only four years ago. he still had his physique too, the abs you had seen countless times in you and his bedroom, without a care in the world or a want in your eyes. how bland. how selfish. some days, while henry trained to be a police officer—you would stare at the pictures on the bookshelves of your husband as a young boy. he seemed happier, more..pure. he didn’t have that coldness in his eyes or the usual grump to his face, he had a smile. a genuine smile.
what went wrong?
you didn’t seem to know.
one day, henry came home to dinner on the table, per usual and a stack of bills from the mailbox. he groaned as he opened them up, pulling his tie in the process. just great. ”..we’re gon’ have to stop using the hot water so much..” you heard him say, giving you a glare that still sent a shiver down your spine—even now after living with each other for two weeks. ”..takin’ too damn long in the shower, I might as well just barge in there and turn the water off..” henry said, groaning at all the money he was going to have to spend because of you.
you hesitated to even argue with him, you didn’t want to get another bruise or a slap across the face. or even just a scream, that still would’ve hurt too. "what’re we gonna do then..?” you muttered to him, staring at the white, flowery table cloth that covered the old wooden table. god, this had to be as old as butch. “..i’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. you’re going to wait to shower til’ I get home and I’ll take it with you..”
the words that came out of henry’s mouth didn’t shock you, always so cold and rough, his tone hinting with carelessness. you and your husband had seen each other naked before, sleeping together in the same bed but never showing any affection or sensuality. you didn’t care, you never wanted to be with this man. not like you had a choice anyway. you just shared the same bed and lived together. nothing more, nothing less.
‘..henry, I miss you baby..-‘
your voice replayed in henry’s head, the one that he hated with a passion had somehow now..aroused him. he watched as you crawled on top of him, having your hair up and your body just covered in see through fabric that henry could practically tear off. keep calm, henry. he's fine, he's fine.
then why is he acting like such a fool?
the dirty blond let out a loud sigh, his legs slightly trembling while he stared into those pretty little eyes of yours. his hands were rough compared to the skin of your waist, so calloused and dirty on your soft skin. it almost felt wrong to touch you like this. so impure, so unhealthy.
henry leaned his head back as soon as he felt your legs wrapped around his waist, the back of his head hitting against the soft, mushy pillows that he could only wish were your thighs. the dirty blond watched as your gentle touch unbuckled his belt, slowly but surely coming undone like a hard knot in one’s shoelaces. his blue hues caught you looking back at him, a stupid little grin across your pretty face—one that he didn’t seem to recognize. this was so unlike you. this was so unlike bowers. he had never, ever, wanted you like this before. he had no desire to. you both were just forced into marrying each other.
but now, the boy felt something different—something similar to the feeling of when he had his first kiss or the very few memories of his mother when he was a young boy. your touch affected him, sending shivers down his spine as he waited for you to pull down his jeans and boxers. such a needy little thing, ain’t he? and when you finally got to it, making henry wait like a damn cat before he felt the fabric slide down his legs..
he woke up.
the young man awoke in his bed, gasping for air like someone had just taken his breath away—or something. henry’s bare chest and legs were covered in a cold sweat, woken up from his deep slumber. it was just a normal night. there was nothing wrong with you, bowers. he looked over at you, sound asleep and facing the direction of him, unlike usual. your face buried in your pillow, all scrunched and gentle like. you almost looked..cute or pretty, whatever words guys used to compliment girls or something.
the image replayed in his mind like vinyl on a record player, repeating in an endless loop over and over in the back of his head. he was sure he memorized it by now. henry couldn’t even go back to sleep or lie down without thinking about his dream.
૮꒰ ིྀ ⍝ ⍝ ꒱ა ʚ ᧔ෆ᧓ ɞ ⊹˚˙
the young male couldn’t handle all the complaints and begging, and whatnot—especially from his in-laws. always waiting for you to just one day announce your pregnancy. such bullshit.
henry was finally done with it.
he was going to give them their wishes. after all, you did want kids, right? plus, bowers couldn’t really get the thought of you in his dream from the night before out of his head like that. so intimate, so alluring. the pure image kept him up at night, he had desires of course. He did the only logical thing he could do—get rid of your birth control. now he knew that sounded stupid, but it was all apart of his plan. henry wasn’t going to force himself on you, that would make him feel like his father all too much.
he was going to make you want him—to need him, yearn for him. the young man started with your medication, simply by just not reminding you to take it every day. and when you were almost out, he threw the rest away. just like that. you shrugged it off, thinking you were just out or just lost some—maybe you took some of your birth control on the wrong days or something? now obviously, doing just this wasn’t going to cut it.
bowers knew you had the same desires, acting like you didn’t find him attractive when he knew you did. you had to, who wouldn’t? so he started being a tad more nicer, day by day. he did what his father did best—manipulate. “..you look nice today..” he said to you with the same cold, rough tone as usual—hinting with no emotion. his blue hues glistened in the kitchen lighting, focused on your figure in your pink cooking apron. wait, why was he looking there?
“oh..thanks..” the dirty blond watched as your cheeks turned a light shade of pink, just like he had planned. he knew no matter how much you didn’t seem to like him, you would soon learn to him.
and if you didn’t, he would make you.
he knew women had needs—after all, he had seen it with his own mother. that’s why she left, or because she was almost beaten to death. the point was that henry knew that you would come begging for affection if he gave it to you, women like you were vulnerable.
“i’m so cold..” you mumbled to him while you both sat on the couch late at night, watching the whatever was on the television. normally, he would’ve just told you to be quiet or that it was too damn bad. he actually wanted to say that, but he didn’t. he couldn’t.
his blue, cold hues met yours. bowers’ expression lacked emotion—value. “you could always just get closer, y’know..?” he muttered, going back to watch the TV while your lips parted in slight surprise. he couldn’t be too nice because that’d be too easy.
it’d fuck up the plan!
you stared at him a little bit, just a little longer. you seemed confused but again, you shrugged it off, just like with the birth control. you went back to watching the old television before scooting a tad bit closer to henry, almost like you were taking little steps. cute. soon you were cuddling up next to him for warmth, acting like the dirty blond didn’t even notice, despite you trying to do it so nonchalantly. everything was going perfect.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ ㅤ𐂯ྀི༘ ₊
and there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed with that outfit he had seen in his dreams. the silk fabric that went down to just above your knees, the blue color that contrasted with the aesthetic of you and henry’s bed sheets. it was all too familiar.
“sorry, i..um..just wanted to surprise you..” you muttered to him, staring at the ground as your cheeks began to flush again, just like it had the other night. henry knew the plan would work but he didn’t expect you to be so eager when he got home from work today. he didn’t even say anything. that honestly worried you for a moment before he suddenly rushed towards you and started to smash your lips against his.
oh boy, you were in for it.
note : debating on posting this on ao3 cus meh, but i hope you enjoyed!! first post!!