𝒿𝒶𝓃ℯ

Farmer and his big carrot ♡

Summary : your dad takes u to his best friends farm to stay over the weekend to learn a thing or two abt farming to distract urself after a breakup with ur bf, but one thing leds to another.

!! 18+ smut, nsfw, age gap, taboo, no y/n , unprotected sex, a slow burn,

You’ve been staring out the window for the entire two hour drive, your heart still aching from the messy breakup with your boyfriend. The passing trees are just a blur as you try not to cry.

"This'll be real good for you, kid," your dad says, keeping his eyes on the road. "Gettin' away to distract y’r mind and doin' some hard country work'll make you forget all about that stupid boy."

You just sigh and look back out the glass. The absolute last thing you want to do is spend your weekend doing some stupid gardening with an old man you haven't even seen since you were a little kid.

The truck finally slowed down and turned onto a long dirt road. In the distance, u could see a large white farmhouse with a big front porch. Next to it sat a massive red barn.

"We're here," your dad says, tapping the steering wheel. "No more cryin' over that ex-boyfriend of yours, ya hear? This will do ya some good and clear your head."

I wiped my eyes and looked out the window. The farm felt completely isolated, miles away from the city and anyone I knew.

Before you can even open your door, you see him.

walking straight toward your dad's side of the truck. He's a tall, broad shouldered man, looking every bit the rugged farmer. He's clearly been working hard in the midday sun.

his denim shirt is dark with sweat, and there are streaks of fresh dirt across his boots, his jeans, and even his tanned face.

He wipes his brow with the back of a calloused hand, steps right up to the truck, and leans his heavy forearms against the open window to talk to your dad.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!" he says, his deep voice cutting through the quiet car. "Good to see ya, buddy."

He leans to the window to talk to your dad, but then his eyes shift toward the back of the cab, looking past your dad to lock his eyes right onto you. He gives you a slow nod. "So this is the city girl you're leavin' with me for the weekend?"

Your dad chuckles, resting his hands on the steering wheel. "Sure is. Teach her how to do some hard work so she forgets all about that heartbreak."

"Sure will," he says with a low, easy laugh.

He steps away from your dad's window and walks around the front of the truck to your side. Before you can even reach for the handle, he grabs it and swings the heavy door open for you. The heat of the farm hits you all at once, along with the smell of sweet hay and rain.

He stands there, towering over the seat, looking down at you with a warm smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

"Well bless my soul," he says, "Last time I saw you, darlin’, you were no bigger than a pumpkin. Look at you now, all grown up into a beautiful young lady."

He extends a rough, dirt stained hand to help you down from the high truck step. "Come on out of there, darlin'. Let's get you settled in."

Once your boots hit the ground, he turns back to the truck to speak to your dad one last time. He leans against the doorframe, tipping his hat back a little.

"Don't you worry about a thing, brother," he says, his deep voice reassuring. "She’s in good hands. I’ll keep her plenty busy,

Your dad nods, looking relieved as he shifts the truck into reverse. "I appreciate it more than you know. Take care of yourself, and don't let her slack off too much!"

"You know I won't," he chuckles,

You both stand there in the driveway, watching the truck back up and drive away, until the sound of the engine completely fades into the quiet country air

He turns from the road, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks down at you, blocking out the sun.

"Well, darlin'," he says, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. "Just you and me out here now."

He nods toward the porch. "Let's grab your bags before you melt in this heat. we got work to do before sundown."

He walks over to the porch, grabs a pair of thick work gloves and a oversized work shirt from a hook, and tosses them to you.

"Put these on, darlin'," he says, nodding toward the garden rows. "Them city clothes won't survive the dirt,

You pull the heavy shirt over your clothes and slip your hands into the oversized gloves. “You both go to the field to pull some carrots”

He kneels right next to you, his deep voice a low rumble. "Just like that, darlin'," he says, effortlessly yanking a thick carrot free. "Get low to the ground and pull straight up."

Determined to prove yourself, you grab a cluster of green stems and yank with all your might. The stubborn root resists, forcing you to strain against it. Your face turns bright red from pulling , your chest heaving under the heavy plaid shirt.

With one final breath, the carrot pops loose, and a breathless, soft little moan escapes your throat from the sheer effort.

his eyes dropping to your flushed face and heavy breathing. A look of pure awe across his rugged features, completely gone before he catches himself.

A slow grin breaks through his stubble. "There ya go sweetie. Knew you had some fight in ya."

He kneels down again and grips a massive carrot out the ground, pulling with a grunt until he yanks it out, thick carrot covered in dark earth.

You stare at it, your eyes widening. "Wow that's a big carrot," you breathe out, your face still a little flushed from the heat.

He looks from the carrot to you, a slow, grin spreading across his face "Yeah, it is," he says,

"Everything grows bigger out here in the country, darlin'."

Your face immediately burns hot, You quickly look down, trying to hide that joke caught you off guard.

He lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your reaction, before tossing the massive carrot right on top of your bucket.

Once you both finish gathering the rest of the harvest, you carry the heavy buckets back toward the farmhouse together. He sets them down by the kitchen porch, "I'm gonna go wash up by the pump. Head on inside."

As soon as he walks away, you reach into the pile and pull out that exact, massive carrot, slipping it into your hand. Keeping it hidden close to your side,

you head inside and walk up the stairs to your room, closing the door behind you with a racing heart.

Crawling back onto the mattress, you lie down and let the heat from the afternoon settle deep in your stomach. It’s been a long time since you’ve had any sort of pleasure, and while getting this feeling from your dad’s best friend isn't the best one, the thought only makes you warmer.

With warm dirt covered hands, you slide down your dirt covered jeans and kick them off ur bed. Lying there in just your underwear, you pick up the heavy root and slowly begin to rub the long, thick carrot across the fabric of your panties, closing your eyes as the friction sends a sudden thrill straight through you.

You arch your back against the bed, letting out a soft moan as you press the heavy carrot harder against your underwear. Every hard rub sends a rush of heat straight between your legs.

You can’t push the image of him out of your head. how big he is, his deep voice, and the way he looked at you on the porch. Knowing he’s your dad’s best friend just makes it hotter, making the ache down there get tighter and tighter.

Your breathing gets fast and heavy as you rub the long, thick carrot faster against your sweetest spot. Your hips start moving on their own, riding against it in a fast, needy rhythm, desperate to finally cross the edge. Before you can even reach that feeling, a loud knock on the door makes you freeze.

"You done cleaning up in there?" his deep voice calls out from the hallway. "I've got supper ready darlin’."

Your heart leaps into your throat. You look down, as you stare at your moist underwear and the drenched carrot in your hand.

"Y-yeah, almost!" you call out, your voice shaking as you try to sound normal while looking right at the mess you just made. "I'll be down in a second!"

"Alright, don't keep me waiting too long, darlin'." Your heart is hammering. You quickly shove the wet carrot far under the bed. You rip off your messy underwear, throw them in the hamper, and pull on a fresh pair and some shorts. Your thighs are still tingling, but you hurry out the door.

Down in the kitchen it smells like hot food. He’s already at the table, pouring water. Right in the middle is a big bowl of beef stew, loaded with thick, chopped carrots from the garden.

"Sit on down darlin" he says, looking up with that deep, heavy gaze.

You sit across from him, your skin still warm. He scoops a big portion onto your plate.

looking at those soft carrots makes your stomach twist. With your heart still racing and that unresolved ache between your legs, you just can't eat. You pick up your fork and stare down, hoping he doesn't notice.

He digs into his food, but stops when he sees you just moving the food on your plate.

"Not hungry?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. Those sharp eyes drill right into you. "You worked hard today. Need to keep your strength up."

Your face burns. You look up, trying to act normal, but your heart is pounding you're sure he can hear it. Every time you look at his big, calloused hands holding his spoon, you think about how close he was to your room.

"I'm just a little tired," you lie, your voice quiet as you try to stop your legs from shaking under the table.

He takes another bite, chewing slowly while he watches you.

"Well, if you're too tired for food, maybe you need a break," he says, setting his spoon down." A few of the guys from the next farm over are having a small get together at the local bar down the road tonight. Just some drinks and music."

He leans a bit forward , his eyes heavy on yours. "Wanna come along? Get you out of the house."

You swallow hard, looking from his broad shoulders back down to your plate. The ache between your legs is still right there, humming under your skin every time he speaks.

"Yeah," your voice a little rough. "Yeah, I'll go.”

"Great," he says, a low grin tugging at his mouth. "Well then, go on up and get dressed, darlin'. We'll head out in a few."

You nod and head straight back upstairs. Your heart is still pounding as you pull open your closet, looking for something to wear. You quickly grab a cute top

and some short tight jeans, sliding them on as fast as you can. You fix your hair in the mirror real quick, trying to ignore how flushed your face still looks, and head back down the stairs before he can complain about you taking too long.

He’s already waiting by the front door, jingling his truck keys in his hand. He looks you up and down, his eyes lingering on how the jeans fit your hips, but he doesn't say a word about it.

The drive is short and quiet, the truck cabin feeling way too small.

Every time he shifts gears, his knee brushes yours, the heat of it cutting straight through your denim and keeping that ache between your legs alive. The truck smells like leather and tobacco, and you just stare out the window, trying to breathe normally.

He pulls into the gravel lot, kills the engine, and steps out. You follow him up the steps, and as he reaches past you to push the heavy door open, his chest presses right against your back for a second.

"After you," he murmurs near your ear, his breath warm against your neck.

You walk in ahead of him, stepping into the dim neon light, the low chatter, and the thick scent of stale beer and smoke.

He steers you toward the back of the room with a heavy hand resting right against your back, his palm warm and solid through your shirt. The bar is crowded, packed with local farmers and truck drivers, but people clear a path when they see him coming.

"Hey, look who finally made it out," a voice calls from a booth near the corner. It's a couple of the guys from the next farm over, already surrounded by empty bottles.

He slides into the booth and tilts his head, gesturing for you to sit next to him. The space is tight, and your thigh is pressed flush against his from hip to knee.

"What are you drinkin', darlin'?" he asks, leaning down “I’ll have a whiskey neat ," you say. He catches the bartender's eye, holding up two fingers. "Two whiskeys, neat,"

He pushes a glass your way, taking a heavy swallow of his own. A faint sheen of amber liquor clings to his bottom lip before he wipes it with the back of his thumb.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his pack, and lights his cigarette, He takes a slow drag, blowing the smoke into the dim air between you "So," he says, his voice low, eyes dropping to your face. "Why'd ya break things off with that boy, anyway?"

"Didn't treat ya right, darlin'?" You shrug, keeping your eyes on the liquor in your glass. "We just didn't work things out. He never paid attention anyway. Like I wasn't even in the room half the time."

He lets out a low, rough chuckle, before he takes a slow drag of his cigarette, his eyes dropping to your mouth before cutting back up to meet your gaze through the smoke. "Never paid attention," he repeats, "Well. That boy's a damn fool then, ain't he?"

A sudden rush of heat hits your cheeks, a fierce blush you can’t hide in the dim neon light. You look down, your pulse spiking against his hand. He notices, a slow, satisfied look settling into his eyes.

"’Cause I can tell ya one thing," he murmurs, leaning in close with the scent of tobacco and whiskey. His thumb traces a heavy circle against the hot skin of your neck. "A girl like you shouldn't ever have to beg a man to look at her."

You swallow hard, your eyes fixed on the condensation dripping down your glass. The air between you feels thick enough to choke on. "Is that right?" you manage, your voice tighter than you wanted it to be.

He doesn't answer right away. He just holds your gaze, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. When he sets the glass back down on the sticky table,

"That's right," he says, his thumb pressing a little firmer into the nape of your neck. "Some men just don't know what they're holding onto until it's gone.

A few hours go by the night blurs into a heavy, spinny haze. A couple more drinks down and the room is tilting, your head lulling back against the booth as you try to blink him into focus. Your words come out thick and slurred when you try to speak.

His eyes narrow. placed by a sharp look as he takes the glass right out of your clumsy grip.

"Alright," he grunts, his voice flat and commanding as he stubs out his cigarette. "You're completely wasted. Time to head back."

He stands up and hooks a firm hand under your elbow, pulling you up before your knees can buckle. The room spins, and you stumble hard into his chest, clutching his shirt just to stay upright.

His arm wraps solid and heavy around your waist, anchoring you against him.

"Steady," he mutters, his breath warm against your ear. "I gotcha. Let's get you out into the air."

He drags you out to the truck, the cool night air hitting your face as he shoves you into the passenger seat. The drive is a loud, vibrating blur of gravel and headlights until the engine cuts out in the driveway.

Before you can even figure out how to unbuckle, he’s got your door open, scooping you up and hauling you inside. He carries you down the hall and plops you heavily onto your bed, the mattress bouncing under your weight.

You groan, staring at the ceiling as he stands over you, hands on his hips, surveying the disaster zone of your bedroom. Clothes are everywhere, empty wrappers litter the floor, and the desk is overflowing.

"Jesus," he mutters, shaking his head. "You live like a raccoon darlin’."

He sighs and starts kicking a path through the clutter, picking up a stray hoodie and a stack of papers just so he can move. He reaches down to grab a pile of laundry off a chair, but stops dead in his tracks.

With two fingers, he lifts a pair of damp, inside-out underwear. Right beneath them on the cushion sits a lone, slightly shriveled carrot. He stares at the combination, a look of pure, baffled amusement washing over his face. He looks from the chair, to the carrot, and then over to you.

he says, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. "What the hell is the story here darlin'? You blink up at him through the heavy haze, the room still spinning as you let out a loose, sloppy giggle. your tongue thick as you blur the words together.

"’S for... y'know," you mumble, your face flushing hot as you drunkenly blur out the truth. "Had to... get a little pleasure n' shit earlier. Don't... don't judge me."

His smirk pauses, his eyebrows shooting straight up as the implication hits him. He looks down at the carrot, then back at you, a low, rough laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

"Well, damn," he chuckles, tossing the underwear aside but keeping his eyes locked on you, "Didn't know you were that desperate. Guess I should've come over sooner." He clears his throat roughly, his cocky smirk freezing as the drinks he'd had caught up to him. He rubs the back of his neck, as he realizes what he just let slip. “I didn’t mean it like that sweetheart”

You let out a soft, heavy sigh from the mattress, your eyes locked on him through the haze. "'S exactly what you meant," you mumble, the alcohol making you bold enough to voice the truth.

He doesn't answer. His jaw tightens, he turns on his feet, aiming straight for the bedroom door to put some distance between you both.

But as he passes the bed, your hand shoots out, your fingers wrapping tight around his wrist. He stops dead in his tracks. "Don't leave," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly in the quiet room as you pull him closer. "Just... stay."

He freezes completely, his back still turned to you, his shoulders drop an inch as he lets out a long, ragged breath.

"Please," you add, your grip tightening around his wrist as you pull yourself slightly closer to the edge of the mattress. "Don't go back out there. Just stay here. With me." "You're drunk, sweetheart," he says, his Southern accent draw thicker, making u wet already, weighed down by everything he's trying to hold back.

He gently puts his other hand over yours, not pulling away, but not letting you pull him any closer either. "I'm your dad's friend darlin’. And I’m too old for you. This whole thing.. it would be too wrong. You know that."

You pull against his grip, refusing to let go, your eyes burning into his. "I don't care," you breathe, the alcohol stripping away any hesitation. "I don't care about none of that."

Before he can answer, you tug his wrist hard, throwing him off balance. He catches himself on the edge of the mattress, his large frame suddenly looming right over you.

"You don't mean that, darlin'," he grunts, his rough drawl low and heavy against your face. He doesn't pull back. His eyes drop down to your lips, "To hell with it," he rasps, the last of his control finally snapping.

He closes the distance, crashing his mouth down on yours. The kiss is heavy and desperate, tasting like dark bourbon n cigarettes. His large, calloused hand slides up to cup your jaw, his fingers tangling roughly in your hair as he tilts your head back.

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him down. He lets out a deep, rumbling groan, his heavy frame settling over you on the mattress. The rough scratch of his stubble burns against your skin, and the blistering heat of him makes the hazy room spin completely out of focus.

"Gonna regret this sweetheart, " he murmurs against your lips, and breathless.His heavy weight presses you down into the mattress as his hands slide down your sides, leaving a trail of pure heat through your clothes. He doesn't break the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips as his large, calloused fingers hook firmly into the waistband of your jeans.

With a low, impatient grunt, he tugs at the button and zip, pulling the denim down over your hips in one motion before tossing them blindly aside into the dark room.

The cool air hits your bare legs, but you barely feel it over the blistering heat of him settling back over you. He doesn't give you a second to think. His large hands slide right back up your thighs, gripping your waist tight as his mouth crashes back down on yours, hungrier and harder than before.

He sits back just long enough to roughly unbuckle his belt and shove his own jeans and underwear down. He settles back over your frame, the impressive weight of his length pressing hard against the thin fabric of your underwear, rubbing ur clit. It’s thick and heavily veined, burning hot where it meets your skin through the barrier. A dark smirk touches his lips as he looks down at your flushed face. "Feels a hell of a lot better than that carrot, ain't it, darlin'?"

Instead of forming words, a breathless, heavy moan breaks from your throat, your back arching slightly into the torturous friction of him. His dark smirk deepens, his chest rumbling with a low, satisfied chuckle. "I'll take that as a yes darlin’," he growls, his voice thick with heat.

His grip tightens on your hips, pinning you down as he speeds up the rhythm, rubbing his hot, thick, cock harder against the thin barrier of your underwear.

He hooks two fingers into the waistband, his calloused knuckles brushing your slick skin. He lets out a low, rough growl. "you're soaking wet for me, ain't ya?"

With one quick, impatient yank, he strips the underwear down your legs and tosses 'em aside, leaving absolutely nothing between you. Slowly, he slides a thick, calloused finger right into your slick heat, finding your raw, swollen clit.

He rubs it in slow, deliberate circles, pressing just hard enough to make you arch off the mattress. A loud, broken moan slips past your lips, filling the quiet room. his fingers glistening with your wetness. he slowly brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, his tongue savoring every bit of you.

"Done teasing around doll," his voice dropping” He positions himself between your thighs, the hot, heavy weight of his thick cock pressing directly against your slick opening. He doesn't rush. He slowly shoves his way inside you, stretching you completely as he sinks all the way in.

The intense, sudden fullness catches in your throat, and a small, sharp cry breaks from your lips into the quiet room. buried deep inside you, his chest rising and falling heavy against yours as he takes in how tightly you’re wrapping around him.

"Fuck, you're tight," he pants, a dark, look in his eyes. "How long's it been since you been fucked? Feels like it's been a decade."

He grips your hips tighter, his calloused thumbs digging into your skin as he prepares to move. "Don't you worry, darlin'. I'm gonna do you real good tonight. gonna make you cum so hard for me."

He doesn't wait for you to catch your breath. With a low grunt, he pulls back slowly before driving deep into you again, establishing a heavy, relentless rhythm that vibrates right down to your bones. The mattress groans beneath his weight as his hips slam hard against yours. Every thrust is deliberate, filling you completely and friction rubbing right against that raw, sensitive spot he just left burning.

Your hands claw into his bare shoulders, your knuckles turning white as another breathless cry leaves your lips. He leans down, his hot breath catching against your ear as he whispers roughly, "That's it. take every single inch of it." He feels the sudden, tight clench of your walls wrapping around him as your body starts to fracture. A dark, grin hits his face, knowing he’s got you right on the edge.

"Yeah, that's it," he pants, his voice raw and ragged. "Clench up for me, darlin'. Cum for me." He hammers into you with more heavy, desperate thrusts, diving as deep as he can go. The blinding friction finally snaps the tension in your belly, sending you crashing over the peak into a hard, trembling climax that leaves you completely breathless.

Hearing your broken cries, he lets out a low, groan. He buries himself fully inside you, his whole frame locking up tight as he finally releases his own heavy heat deep within you. ur filled to the brim.

He collapses heavily against you, his chest heaving as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. The room is dead quiet except for the ragged sound of his breath slowing down and the steady, heavy thud of his heart beating hard against your ribs.

He stays deep inside you for a long moment, letting the aftershocks fade, before slowly pulling back. Ur hole is aching n raw, dripping out some of the cum he just filled u with. A low, satisfied grunt leaves his chest as he shifts his weight, rolling off to the side of the mattress but keeping one heavy, calloused hand resting over your hip.

He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, letting out a low, rough exhale as he looks down at you with a slow, lingering stare.