#cowboytlou

[kissmetulips]

Buttercup Farm Chapter 3 - Horsin’ Around’ ✮ ˚｡⋆ ˙

2.1k!!! Cowboy Abby Anderson x farmhand femme reader. Mostly comfort but some slight angst (mentions of Owen eek 😟).

A/N: I made them both bi because I’m indecisive so I hope that’s okay with you cuties? We also have our first Abby diary entry in this chapter so I hope you enjoy 🫶

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The beams of dawn break through the laced curtain of your room, gently kissing your face awake with their warmth and golden hues. You muffle an earth-quaking yawn and peel the curtains just enough to peek outside, amazed at the prismacolour sunrise ahead of you. You stretch your arms above your head, wishing that Abby was there to pull them down as she did yesterday, before you force yourself out of bed. Abby promised to take you horse riding today so you tried to dress accordingly - opting for brown boots with flower embroidery, a duck-egg blue blouse, and bootcut jeans with stars sown onto the back pockets. You tie your hair into a simple ponytail and open the door to go outside where collide with a tall, muscular figure with a distinct thump. “Oh sorry darlin’, didn’t see you there. Just wanted to check if you were awake” Abby says abashed, placing her hand behind her head and chuckling lightly. Her golden hair is illuminated by the early morning sun, with her baby hairs appearing as if they were a halo around her face. For a brief moment, her eyes caught the light and transformed from their usual cobalt to a dazzling sapphire. Only then did you realise that you had been staring for a little too long so you decidedly break the silence, “well I’m up but thanks for being my personal alarm clock anyways. You ready to go?”. She laughs again, titling her head up which allows the sound to graciously spill into the shared space between you too. God, you want to make her laugh forever, you wished silently, hoping that the dancing peonies in the grass beneath you would somehow hear and make your dreams a reality. “Hmm”, Abby ponders, “I am but your not honey, where’s your hat? Wouldn’t want you to burn. Not saying you couldn’t pull it off or anythin’ but it’d sure as hell hurt”. After you explain that you don’t have one she smiles in a sickenly soothing fashion and offers you one of hers, beckoning you to follow her to her cabin.

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It’s not far from yours, similarly situated a far distance outside of the other ranch cabins. She puts a hand on your lower back to encourage you inside where you try to subtly investigate where she calls home. It is scarcely decorated and surprisingly clean for a cowboy. A few horseshoes lined the walls and a small collection of books, weathered due to what can only be years of enjoyment, sat on top of her bedside table. “You read?!” you exclaim, trying to hide the shock on your voice which was to little avail. Abby met your eyes and smirked, “What, cowboys can’t read now? You’re awfully small-minded pretty”. You stumble over your words, making weak attempts to defend yourself which Abby deems hilarious by the way that she is leaning on her door frame for support - almost doubled over in laughter. “Lord your easy to tease, I’m only kiddin’. Are ya into books?”. You nod in response and Abby smiles painfully gently once more, “well, you can borrow my books anytime you like. How ‘bout you start with this one? It’s a killer”. Abby resolutely places a novel in to your hands, it is clothed with a linen cover which had been stained by ink marks and faded gold font which you couldn’t quite decipher. “Let me know what ya think of it sometime, my thoughts are in the margin so you can pay mind to those too if you’d like”. You didn’t expect someone so seemingly rough to be so gentle, so kind. Your dwelling on that thought when her eyes widened and she spun around, remembering why you came her and lifting one of many cowboy hats off of a rusted hook by the door. “It’ll be too big for you but it’ll have to do” Abby sighs, strolling back towards you and tucking a stray strand from your ponytail behind your ear before placing the hat on top of your head. She adjusts it slightly and stands back to admire her work, appearing so effortlessly collected whereas you feel like a blushing wreck. The rose-tinted shading your cheeks only brightens when Abby comments “You can keep that hat, it looks way prettier on you than it does on me darlin’”. You mutter a quick thanks, trying to retain any dignity you have left, and Abby beckons you outside - directing you steadily to the stables.

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Once you arrive, she diverts your attention to a beautiful cooper-coloured mare - with white spots that appear as if they were freckles lining her back. “I call her Sienna” Abby explains, fondly stroking the horse’s chestnut mane with such devoted care that it makes your heart melt upon the sight. “She ain’t the flashiest but I’ve had her since I was little, I couldn’t join the ranch without her”. You smile at the thought of a younger Abby, her skin untouched by hard labour and with her flowing blond hair tied messily into twin pigtails. “She’s easy too yeah? Won’t be bucking ya off anytime soon I hope” Abby remarks, throwing a sly wink your way. She then helps you onto the saddle first, lifting your hips with an effortless ease with innately reminds you of those stunning muscles she has built. She leaps up after you, placing a heavy head on your shoulder and curving strong arms around your waist. “So darlin’, you lead her like this…” Abby explains, gesturing to the leads around the horses’ neck. Her careful explanation is lost on you however, too distracted her faint smell of whisky and pine trees and increasingly heavy breathing which seemingly kisses your earlobes with every exhale. You nod in feigned acknowledgment as you continue to daydream about the cowgirl, craving desperately to know everything about her. Her story, her past, who she wants to be, who the cruel world has told her she shouldn’t be through undeserved scolds and turmoils. Little do you know, as she claps her scarred hands around your limber digits, she feels the exact same way. Abby chuckles when you gasp at her yanking on the reigns, causing the horse to quite literally leaps into action. Sienna canters away at an alarming speed, instinctively pushing Abby even closer to you as the hare bucks with every oncoming leap. Abby whistles behind you and quiets her excitement to whisper to you “ain’t never rode anything quite like this pretty, have ya?”. With no feasible air remaining in your lungs, you offer her a simple nod which she remarks with another honey-deep chuckle.

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Sienna slows as you reach a clearing, now far away from the ranch behind you. The scene before you both is evidentially breathtaking. A cerulean lake reflects the rare cloud in the sky, only seldomly disturbed by a traitorous ripple, and trees enclose the water so closely that you feel it is mothers natures way of reclaiming a landscape which is even beyond her nurturing touch. Your eyes widen at the sight, pinching Abby’s arm in a wondrous disbelief. “It’s beautiful ain’t it? I wanted to show you that life here ain’t all baren”. “I didn’t think that for a second” you reply without thinking, still breathless from the intensity of the journey (albeit quick) and the picturesque scene which lights your soul as a cowboy would ignite a smoky cigar in dim, evening light. Abby lightly nudges Sienna into action once more, causing the horse to endeavour on a gentle gallop as you circumvent the serene body of water. The cowgirl clears her throat before asking “So…ya got a boyfriend to come home to? Give him a lay of the land and that?”. You sigh as the memories of your ex pollutes your bliss - you had a boyfriend but he treated you with such apathy and harshness that you had prayed never to suffer the misfortune of crossing paths with him again. “No”, you reply after a moments silent - needing to regain your composure. “I did have a boyfriend yes but he wasn’t the kindest to put it gently. Part of the reason I came here was to escape that, to escape him”. Abby responds by kneading the flesh of your thigh, humming melodically in doing so. “Yea I get that, I had the same with a fella’ named Owen. Nice enough but was far too concerned with his own wellbein’ to pay attention to me”. “I’m sorry” you utter truthfully, placing your hand onto hers as she continually works her fingers into your leg. “Don’t be, they’re in the past now huh?”. “I had a girlfriend too”, you admit - anxious to expose the fact that you liked women. You feel her nod gently, inhaling deeply into the crook of her neck - that mere act giving you the confidence to continue. “Her name was Alice, she was much sweeter than my ex-boyfriend but we just drifted you know?”. “Oh I know all right darlin, same thing happened to me a few months back. I met a pretty girl at a bar and thought we had something goin’ on but I guess I thought wrong”. You frown at the thought, how could someone possibly reject someone like Abby? Pushing the anger temporarily aside, it was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest - Abby likes women. Is it completely freakish to think that you could have a chance?

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You and Abby rode back to the farm at a gentle pace, talking softly about anything and everything in a way that felt just so comfortable. You hadn’t realised how long you had been out for until your met with Meemaw’s feigned angry expression, sympathetically chastising you with a caring smile which made her ‘disappointment’ seem all that less convincing. You helped with dinner and quickly headed to bed, tired from a strenuous day of horse riding. Before you let sleep take its familiar path over your aching body, you pick up the novel which Abby had given to you. Opening the first page, you smile fondly at her annotations. The title is missing some girls punctuation and you see her circle the errors, illustrating obnoxious question marks by the blatant mistakes. ‘Good thing you’re a creative writer’ she reads, making you muffle a giggle at the thought of Abby writing as if she was being condescending to the author herself. You quickly fall asleep to the exhilarating thought of Abby’s breath on your neck, the words she whispered to you which you knew she had never said to anyone else. The book lays on your chest, too tired to place it on the wooden panels beside your bed - somewhat reminiscent of Abby’s looming hands on your figure from just a few hours earlier on this fateful day.

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Abby’s Diary - POV: ˙⋆✮

Abby sat down at her antiquated teal-washed desk and collected her diary from her draw, pulling an ink pen from an old soup can to try and sort through the plethora of emotions which she felt today.

‘Good God, I’ve known this girl for two days and I’m already actin’ stupid? Asking her if she’s taken like I’m not interested - what am I doing. She was laughing at dinner like she hadn’t a care in the world and the way she tipped her head back as she smiled - lord I’m so fucked. Wearing my hat today too, she’s so gorgeous and I can tell that she doesn’t know it and what’s worse is that it only makes me want to show her how much I know it even more. She is into women though and that’s a relief, but I’m still scared that I’ll end up on another wild goose chase like I did with that stupid girl at the bar. The way we chatted today, I didn’t know that talkin’ could be so easy. I’m scared I’m bein’ too handsy with her but I can’t help but comfort her - I feel like I could kill that motherfuckin’ ex boyfriend who broke her heart. I mean, her heart of all people. I knew I was done for when I saw her passing out on that table, how can someone look so gorgeous when they are so spent? Abby Anderson, you need to pull yourself together. You don’t even know if she likes you! Be calm, be collected, and be cool. This ain’t like herding cattle or aiming the trigger at the shooting range, this shit is important. I’ll try again tomorrow.”.

Abby sighs as she lets the ink pool into her notebook, for someone so meticulous it’s unusual for her to be this careless. She tries to sleep, she really does, but she’s too distracted by the way you felt when she touched your thigh. She way she swore she could hear your breath catch when she whispered sweet nothings to you. Damn, it was going to be a long night.

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[kissmetulips]

Buttercup farm - Chapter 2, “what’s cooking good lookin’?

1.8 K - fluff n flirting 💕 cowboy Abby Anderson x femme, farm hand reader

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You awake to birds chirping and the blazing sun pouring as if it were silk from the open window. If you hadn’t passed out last night you’d feel guilty for sleeping in, but the kind words from Joanne - or rather, Meemaw - last night had reassured any dwindling worries which otherwise would have made your stomach churn. You rise from the plush gingham covers of your bed and settle to your knees, rummaging through your suitcase to find something to wear for the day ahead of you. Wanting to make a better impression than you did the previous night, you wore a knee- length linen dress - adorned with small pink flowers and cuffed delicately at the sleeves. You braid your hair and tie the end with small laced ribbons, applying some light rouge to your cheeks before exiting your cabin. The scene before you is stark in the morning light. You can see several cabins dotted throughout the farm, with dainty daises scattered amongst the emerald grass and the humble sounds of farm animals beyond the horizon. There’s no denying that this ranch is beautiful, and your heart flutters at the thought that you would get to call this home for the foreseeable future.

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You stroll towards the largest cabin in the centre of the ranch, drawn by the sweet smell of fresh waffles and honeyed fruit. You are met with Joel and Meemaw who both offer warm smiles to you, extending a plate of a delectable looking breakfast towards your awaiting open hands. As you thank them and get to work on the steaming pile of waffles, they make a light yet familiar conversation. “Well, I’m glad to see that ya slept up” Joel smirks, noting that your eye bags had visibly lightened since he saw you last. Meemaw chastised him, lightly pinching his cheek before chatting about the day ahead of you. “Well darlin’, today we were thinkin’ you should help with the chickens. Abby will show ya around, she offered to this mornin’ and it’s rare she’s open to visitors so we figured it’d make light work for y’all”. Just as your mind wanders, you hear a distinct click as the cabin door opens. That beautiful stranger you saw yesterday greets you with a smirk, a tighter braid now decorating her head. She was wearing a faded red flannel which perfectly complimented her tanned, freckled skin - pushed up just high enough to reveal her glorious biceps. Her cerulean eyes glimmered as they met yours, “you’re lookin’ a lot prettier than last night” she says - her voice overtly rough but undercut with a tone of sweetness which makes your stomach flip. So this is Abby. “Thanks…” you mumble, embarrassed, and return to your breakfast as a futile means of distraction. “I’ll wait for ya to finish up here then I’ll show you the ropes, poor chickens have been waiting hours to get fed” she remarked sarcastically and in response, you hastily finish your waffles and rise to face her. You mumble an apology, which is met by another sly curl of her lips, and follow her as she leads you out of the cabin. “I’m only teasin’” Abby offers comfortingly, looking over your shoulder to briefly take in your somewhat abashed countenance. “What’s your name anyways pretty?” she asks softly, and when you tell her she let another chuckle slip from her peach-hued lips. “What’s so funny?” you implore accusingly and she just shakes her head “Nothin”, it’s just sweet that’s all”. You roll your eyes, attempting to ignore what can only be butterflies which are invading your gut with every flirty comment which Abby throws your way.

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Soon, you both reach the chicken pen and you smile as your met with the feathered birds - taking their clucks as a form of greeting. Abby kneels on the soil and takes the rooster into her lap, stroking his head absentmindedly before shrugging her shoulders to point at the grain. “Take a handful or so of that and let em’ have it, that’s how you win em over,”. You do as she instructs, letting the grain fall from your fingers and scatter the earth beneath you. The chickens swarm to it immediately, their content coos flocking your ears and painting an easy smile onto your features. “See? They love you already” Abby remarks. Your grin widens and you return to the grain pile, resupplying the already dwindling chicken fodder as the chickens veraciously pecked away. Abby tries to make conversation, asking “will you be coming to the cookout tonight?”. Your perplexed expression implores her to continue, “well, we have one every few days and Joel thought it’d be a good way for you to meet everyone. They’ve met you but somethin’ tells me you were a tad preoccupied to get to know em last night”. You groan, “Lord you’re never going to let me forget that are you?” and Abby chuckles once more “well it was quite the introduction sweetheart, I can’t help it”. You scoff and resume feeding the chickens. Abby gently plucks one of the plumper chickens from the ground and places it into your arms. Alarmed by the sudden presence of the animal, you throw your arms into the air. Abby raises her own to interlock one of your hands with hers, lowering it to support the chicken in your lap. “No need to be scared, you just pet it like that…there you are”. Your blush broadens as you become accustomed to her rough palms, tenderly guiding your own hands onto the awaiting hen. The amorous moment is sharply distracted by a whistle, a cowboy sauntering over to meet you both. “Abby if your done flirtin’ with the new farm hand then I need ya to finish up moving the hay barrels - they won’t move themselves after all”. Abby sighs, not bothering to hide her exasperation, and stood up to face the sneering man before her. You watch her hands dust her knees down lightly and she smiles at you, “well, I’ll see ya around. Work calls”. You mask your disappointment with a simple “okay…see you Abby!” and watch her figure dissolve into the distance. As if the hen were mirroring Abby’s movements, the bird flaps dramatically and leaves your lap which leaves you distinctly aware of the lack of Abby’s presence. You giggle lightly at your own thoughts, in disbelief that within a few hours of arriving at the ranch you might already have a crush. ‘She might not even be into women’ you realise sombrely, and decide to lay your thoughts elsewhere onto the day ahead of you. You turn from the chicken enclosure and amble back to the main cabin - eager to be given your next instructions to diverge your wandering thoughts.

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The rest of the day is a blur, crammed with rushed introductions and mundane farm tasks. Although you’re thankful that they were straightforward, you couldn’t help but feel eager at the thought of the cookout tonight. As if your mind was being broadcasted to the entire farm, Meemaw approaches you and gingerly places her wrinkled hand on your shoulder. “Hey honey, fancy helpin’ me with supper? Joel tells me you know your way round’ a kitchen”. You smile and take her offer gratefully, making easy work of the fruit compote Meemaw tasked you with and lacing pastry to form a decorative pie crust. Content with your work, you set the pie into the oven and undid the checkered apron which was lightly tied around your figure. Meemaw approached you and complimented you on your baking, pushing a glass of punch into your hands. It was citrusy yet almost sickly sweet, it’s alcohol warming your stomach and caressing your tired form from the inside out. “They’ll love your pie, those cowboys go mad for anythin’ sweet” she said affectionately but before you could reply, steady foot steps approach you and Abby’s voice cuts through your conversation “I can agree to that”. She looks less scruffy than before, her damp hair indicating that she had washed off any remnants of the days laborious demands. Abby was wearing a crisp white cowboy hat, complete with matching boots, and a navy flannel shirt which you can only assume is new by the distinct lack of frayed hems and loose buttons which she usually fashioned. “Smartened up I see?” you said with a beam on your face, shamelessly letting your eyes wander up and down her frame. She hummed in response and beckoned you with her finger to follow her outside. She led you to a campfire where the farms cowboys were sitting, nursing their beers and laughing whilst sharing fond memories. Joel was leant against the cabin wall, playing a soothing melody on his guitar which even the stars seemed to dance along to - twinkling in time with the rhythm. Abby crouched to sit on a makeshift log-seat and pursed her lips to whistle - drawing everyone’s attention to you. You shuffled awkwardly, suddenly becoming very interested in the amber, fluctuating flames of the campfire. After the silence drew out for what was considerably longer than comfortable, you spoke. “Hello, it’s lovely to meet you all. I’m y/n and I’ll be staying here on the ranch for a few months.” Joel stopped strumming his guitar and nodded at you, saying “and she ain’t used to you scoundrels like yall so make sure to be nice to her yea? Show her the ropes n things”. You offer him a toothy grin in thanks and sit on the log beside Abby who places a stable hand on your bare knee, rubbing slow circles on it as if to silently reassure you that you had finally made a good introduction. The laid-back cowboy who rudely stole Abby from you earlier sauntered over to you and and volunteered his hand which you met in a firm handshake. “The names Jesse, we ain’t all bad you know. Except for this one here, she’s trouble” he notes, nodding his head towards Abby who quickly gives him the middle finger. You take in Jesse’s dark stubble and sepia-toned eyes, laughing as him and Abby continue to bicker like children.

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You all nattered for a while and ate Meemaw’s home cooking, a variety of earthy vegetables and succulent meat, and finished the meal with your fruit pie which everyone complimented to high heaven. The moon had risen far into the blanket of night and your full stomach, combined with the punch which was flowing like liquid gold in your veins, caused your head to droop onto Abby’s shoulder beside you. She smiled softly at you and whispered in your ear “okayokay, let’s get you to bed darlin’ hmm?”. You nod lazily in response and follow suit as she ambles over to your cabin. She opens the door for you, not failing to call herself a ‘gentleman’ for doing so, then rests her head on the doorframe as she watches you fall onto your bed with an ungraceful plop. Abby’s lips curled into that familiar smirk and she turns to leave you in peace, which you notice and call out to her in protest. “Leaving without saying goodnight? Not very gentle-manly” you tease playfully and she reactively chuckles. “Goodnight y/n, you sleep up good, kay’? I’m taking ya riding tomorrow so God knows you’ll need some proper rest”. You nod, satisfied, and wave your hand goodbye before sleep kisses your drooping eyelids goodnight and you start dreaming once more, feeling ever more comforted that staying here at Buttercup Farm was indeed the right thing.

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A/N: chapter 2 is out!! I had so much fun writing this omg. I’m thinking about making some diary entries from Abby throughout the story, what do you think?

[kissmetulips]

Buttercup Farm - introduction ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

This is the start of a series, this is my first fanfic so please be kind!! It is femme reader x Abby Anderson (as the poll decided 🫡). TW for this chapter: passing out

fyi, this is a made up universe so Joel is alive please and thank you 🙏 also how I am portraying the US is in no way representative of how it is, keep in mind I am British so half of this is based purely on my imagination anyways!!

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ story start - 1.3k, all fluff and no real romance here yet!! ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

You clutch onto your suitcase as the bus rattles, overwhelmed by the obnoxious voices of passengers and the tiredness which aches your soul. You have been travelling for the best part of a day, surviving off of the free crackers the air stewardesses gave to you in pity when you threw up for what felt like the hundredth time - the turbulence seemingly laughing in your face as the plane jerked in face of the incoming winds. It feels much hotter than you’re used to, the blazing sun exemplified in the cramped vehicle which was taking you far from civilisation. From your home, your parents who had kissed you goodbye at the airport and ushered reassurance that you were making the right choice. You had debated this for months, leaving the mild countryside you had grown up in to be an exchange labourer in a midwestern ranch. You could cook well, take care of children even better and loved animals like your life depended on it - so it seemed like a perfect fit - but you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety engulf you as the bus came closer to your destination. Searching for some distraction, you turn to aimlessly gaze outside of the window. Wild horses, parched cacti and golden-hued pastures pass you by, offering some solace in this mysterious yet beautiful land. Slumped on a shaking rail, you close your eyes and dream about what awaits you. The people you’ll meet, the memories you’ll make…will it be worth leaving everything you know behind?

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You lurch awake to the sensation of a warm hand on your shoulder, the disheveled yet friendly bus driver looking upon you. “Last stop of the day miss, you’ll have to get of here”. You grumble a half-hearted thanks before lifting your suitcase out of the bus, eyes blinking as you become accustomed to your surroundings. A small high street lay before you, some kind of country music carried by the smooth evening wind meeting your ears. The warm sun enveloped your fatigued figure, kissing your skin with a mellow heat as the night drew closer. Your eyes met a tall figure who was leant against the bus stop, a wide-rimmed hat covering his eyes. You recognise him at once from the curve of his lips and the roughness of his hands - this was Joel, who you’d been chatting to for weeks prior to making your move. He ran the local ranch you would be staying at, Buttercup Farm, and had promised to take you there and to make you comfortable after such a draining journey. You trudge up to him and smile with every ounce of energy left in you, greeting him quietly and introducing yourself. He calmly lifted his hat off his head and enveloped you in an unexpected yet welcome hug, quickly taking your bag from you and staring at you with concerned eyes as he noticed your withered expression. “A pleasure to finally meet you y/n. Don’t ya worry, there’ll be no introductions tonight. Let me take you to the ranch and show you your room and you can sleep for as long as you’d like”. You grin at the sound of a warm bed and solitude, but the comfort is quickly forgotten as your stomach groaned and audibly cut through the pleasantries. “Hmm, we’ll get you some supper first then”, Joel acknowledges with a chuckle as he leads you to his truck, worn down with age and littered with bumper stickers with corny phrases like ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ that you can only assume were gifts from visitors before you. He offers you a hand and lifts you into the passenger seat before setting the ignition and driving away from the town. You attempt to make conversation but the soft rumbles from the truck and the heaviness in your eyes overcome your efforts and before you know it - you’re falling asleep once more. Joel notices from the corner of his eye and only shifts to turn the radio down, allowing you to get some much needed rest before you reach the farm.

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You awake to the sudden holt in the truck. It’s dark out now, the scenery only illuminated by twinkling stars in the sky and the distant glow of oil lamps from the ranch ahead of you. You smile softly at the moon, the only constant in your life in this foreign environment. Joel lifts himself out of the truck and opens the door for you, hoisting you from the high seat and placing you on the ground. You tremble at the unfamiliarity of the ground beneath you, your aching hunger finally catching up to you. You hear a faint “Steady darlin’” before your legs give way, strong hands catching your head before it can make contact with the earth. The last thing you recall is being hoisted into Joel’s steady arms, the occasional “fuck” slipping from his chapped lips as he rushed you into the nearest cabin. Despite him promising no introductions, faces lined with worry surround you as Joel hurriedly explains your situation. “Shit, I knew she was tired n’ hungry but I didn’t think she’d pass out on me”.

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You are promptly awoken for the third time that day with a cold compress held firmly to your forehead. A kind-looking, elderly woman holds out a steaming bowl of stew towards you. “Eat when you’re ready sweetheart, there’s no rush here”. Your cheeks flush as you notice the people surrounding you, this is no way to meet who you will be spending the next few months with. Your eyes linger on one girl in particular, a loose golden braid covering her threadbare flannel and deep ocean eyes staring compassionately into yours. “Give the girl some space, Lord!” the elderly women exclaims, ushering the others out and leaving only her and Joel at your side. You cant help but feel slightly disappointed in the absence of that gorgeous stranger, but your thoughts are hushed as the elderly woman’s soothing voice cut through the air. “My names Joanne but you can call me Meemaw, don’t pay any mind to them honey. Cowboys, nosiest creatures alive” she offers you sympathetically, bringing up a gentle hand to stroke your cheek. “I’ll scold Joel later, picking you up with nothing to eat… and to think he calls himself a gentleman”. This earns a chuckle from you, whilst a rather embarrassed Joel bows his head in apology. You bring your lips to the bowl and let the savoury stew sooth your tongue, your unsure if it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted or if it’s only this good because it’s the only real food you’ve eaten in God knows how long. “I’ll take you to your cabin when your done y/n” Joel mutters, “at least your time with us can only go up from here?”. His humour is met with silence as you continue to work on the stew, motivated by the thought of hiding away in your room where you could escape the shame which painted your cheeks in a rosy hue.

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Once you’d finished, you carefully rose to your feet and followed Joel to your cabin - notably far away from the other buildings which littered the ranch. It was small and only decorated by dim fairy lights and gingham covers which a single bed. There was a large window, propped open to let a docile breeze waft through the room. You thank him again before he leaves you, quickly collapsing onto the sheets and laying your eyes to rest. “Tomorrow…I’ll worry about them tomorrow” you reassure yourself before slumber finally takes you into a warm embrace - silencing your fears with a sonorous and undisturbed sleep.

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A/N: any thoughts or feelings, please lmk!!