Lilly’s Reading List

you’re just awake enough though to register the passenger side door opening. your eyebrows furrow. it’s cold outside, too cold when you’re so warm, night air crisp against your shorts-clad legs and causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. your eyes are just beginning to slip open when your seatbelt is undone for you. 

“oh, love of mine,” jake coos, sing-songy and quiet. a slow kiss to your forehead is what does it. that’s what wakes you fully, a choked groan and a gust of stale air rocketing out of your mouth before you can stop them. the crackling of your knees and elbows follows as you stretch, and you barely miss knocking jake in the face when you do. “careful now, little lady. who else is gonna carry all these bags if ya knock me out cold?” 

you hum then and smack your lips, finally sitting up straight and untangling yourself from your sleep-warm seat. 

“my husband.”

“husband, huh? this husband a’yours must be a real handsome son of a gun. strong too, i bet.” 

jake hefts one of your duffle bags over a tan arm. the muscle bulges, flexes under the skin, showing you just how strong said husband really is. 

“yeah, he’s a real stud,” you yawn. 

there’s no lie to be told. he is a real stud — inflation of jake’s ego be damned — fuck it, you like your man confident. that sandy blonde hair, those emerald green eyes. temptation on legs, he is, suave and assured and kind, even when the cocksure attitude he sports wraps its protective arms around that kindness and hides it from view. 

jake’s truck isn’t all that tall, but your feet still slip to the ground ungracefully when you lower yourself from the passenger seat. he steadies you with a warm hand at your elbow, keeping it there as you wipe the crust from your eyes and run your fingers through your hair to wake yourself up more. a buzzing light bar to your left makes you squint when your vision clears. 

“up and at ‘em, darlin’. room should be a little ways down the hall and straight to the right.” 

jake hands you the keycard and locks his truck before hefting a couple more bags in his arms, following your lead to your motel room for the night. 

it’s definitely the oldest place you’ve stayed so far on your long journey up the coast, but it doesn’t look too bad. paint is chipping in the ceiling corners, there looks to be a little water damage on the flooring of the hall, again, it’s nothing you’ve never seen before. but you know your husband well enough to know that he’s probably having a silent fit over the chipping paint and water stains. if you were this tired just from sitting in the passenger seat all day, you can only imagine jake’s fatigue. he must not have had much of an option, unless you’d rather the two of you spend the night in a ditch. 

you find the door easily enough, double checking the number written on the keycard just in case and holding it to the electronic key swipe until it turns green. the door sticks for a moment, you have to bump it with your shoulder once or twice to get it to open, and the smell of roses hits you before anything. 

roses — what a nice change! there’s a fresh bouquet sitting pretty on the television console. you were honestly expecting the ever welcoming scent of mildew. 

the maroon carpet comes as a surprise too, the mirrored walls even more so, but it isn’t until you step further into the room and see the bed that you stop in your tracks. 

“jacob.” it’s hissed through your teeth rather frantically, voice raising in pitch as your eyes widen. “where the fuck are we?!” 

you turn around to address your husband and find him looking surprisingly just as surprised as you are. his lips are ticking upwards at the corners though, those bright green eyes of his roaming the room before landing on you with a wink. 

“well goddamn. if this ain’t the honeymoon suite, honey, i don’t know what is.” 

“jacob!” you grab your bag from his arm and whack him with it. “if that’s a waterbed i’m going to kill you, oh my god. tasha’s going to freak when i tell her you booked us a room at a love motel. if you wanted to get me naked you could have just asked. you know, like a normal person.” 

he laughs then, bright like ringing bells, crows feet popping by his squinted eyes. he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his chest, kissing the top of your head before tipping your chin up with long fingers. 

“most of the time i don’t even have to ask, though, do i?” 

there’s that smug little smirk you fell hard for, that damned, honey-dipped texas drawl, that steadfast attention that still makes your cheeks heat up despite how long you’ve been together. being on the receiving end of a jake seresin look is not for the weak. 

you roll your eyes and nudge him with a playful shoulder to his sturdy chest. he’s laughing all the way to the heart-shaped bed then, locking in to check meticulously for bedbugs and unwanted stains that would get you moved to another room and a zero taken off your charge. you busy yourself too by piddling around the room, latching the security lock on the door and setting your bags on the console underneath the television. 

the whole suite is something straight out of the fifties, can’t have been touched since the eighties. a creak of the bathroom door and a flick of the lights is all it takes to confirm your suspicions. there’s a jacuzzi style bathtub right in the middle of the room, four walls equally as mirrored as the main suite. there’s even a lounge chair in the corner on top of the velveteen, maroon carpeted floor. 

“oh my- jesus, jake, why is there carpet in the bathroom?!” you guffaw, a slightly hysterical laugh leaving your lips.

a closer inspection of the bathtub finds you staring straight up at a spigot in the ceiling. when you twist the knob in the tub, water gushes from the spigot and down into the basin, which actually — you pause to consider with raised brows, the thought of leaning back in the corner of the bathtub with your legs spread, feeling the water pressure jet where you’re most sensitive — sounds… like a pretty good time. maybe jake could join you, maybe he could sit in the lounge chair and watch, but your eyes land on the carpeted floor again and you recoil with a shudder, dreamy bathroom escapades cast to the side until you find somewhere with blessed tile flooring. 

you brush your teeth quickly and leave jake’s toothbrush out for him to use when he’s done fussing around the main suite, changing just as quickly out of your clothes and into your favorite, worn sleep shirt to turn in after a long day spent in jake’s truck. 

you’re thankful to find that the bed in the direct center of the room isn’t a waterbed after all. jake’s already pulled the covers back for you, so you slip in and rub your feet together like a bug after pulling the blankets back up to your chin. your back pops when you recline onto the pillow only to be disrupted by another hysterical laugh, and you watch yourself do it courtesy of the mirror on the ceiling. 

jake pads back into the main suite and saddles up close beside you in bed after turning off the overhead lights, leaving you in the intimate glow of the bedside lamps. he’s warm, always is, smells like your shared minty toothpaste and home. he pulls you into his side and hums when you rest your head on his hairy chest, slinging your own arm across his waist and rubbing your palm across his toned stomach as he squeezes you closer. 

“i’m just gonna go out on a limb here and guess they don’t serve breakfast,” jake says. 

“oh, sure they do. i’m sure if you go back to the front desk and ask for some, i dunno… oysters, strawberries, maybe some dark chocolate, they’ll be able to hook us up.” 

jake pinches your hip and you giggle. you press your mouth to the side of his pec to hide your smile. it’s easy to relax into him, to let your weight go lax while you nuzzle your cheek against the coarse fur on his chest, to kiss him right where the beat of his heart is. the soft beat of his heart almost does its job and lulls you to sleep, but your eyes creep open again, so damn distracted by that mirror right above you. 

“isn’t sleeping in front of a mirror, like, bad luck?” you ask. you’re not just in front of a mirror, you’re completely surrounded by them. “stevie wonder probably has a song about this.” 

he laughs then and it jostles you from your spot on his chest. jake rolls you over then until you’re on your back and leans over you, elbow planted on the mattress beside your head. 

“sounds like someone needs a little distraction.” his hand dips under your loose shirt to caress your hip, rucking it up just enough that you shiver the moment his fingertips brush against the hem of your panties. those green eyes of his are deep, as vast as a forest, droopy with exhaustion but there’s a glint in them just for you to see. once jake sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. he scoffs. “bad luck… nah, you’re layin’ next to a mighty fine good luck charm.” jake grins, but it softens into something sweet just as he leans down to kiss you. you taste his smile on your lips, bright and bold as always, and your arms come up to wrap around his broad shoulders. 

jake’s fingers skim your panties again. all it does is make your legs twitch and have you exhaling into his mouth. “can i touch you right here?” he asks, gentle as ever. 

the moment he backs up to ask, you throw your arm over your eyes with a barely concealed whine. 

“you know you can.” 

“mmm, but i like to ask.” 

your exhaustion slinks away the moment jake throws the blanket to the foot of the bed and his thick fingers slip under the hem of your panties. he finds you wet, of course he does, wet and warm and inviting. he knows just how to play you — an amalgamation of your many years spent together and a hankering to be the best you’ll ever have, jake touches you with the experience of someone who loves you completely, who cherishes your pleasure above all else. he dips lower to find your entrance even silkier there, and jake curls his fingers at the give of it to swipe up your dripping wetness. he brings it right where you need it — a smooth, tight motion right on the swell of your aching clit — and he adjusts himself on his side when you spread your legs wider for him, throwing a thigh over his to give him more room. 

“jake,” you breathe. he touches you like that until you’re trembling again, your hips circling in tandem with his dexterous fingers. “jake, jake, baby, oh-”

“i’m right here, darlin’, shit. would ya look at that.” 

the raspy tone of his voice has you fitfully dragging your arm away from your face to see what it is that he’s talking about. there’s only one thing it could be, really, and it’s the first thing your bleary eyes land on anyway. 

the mirror on the ceiling reflects such a dirty scene that your head swims with it. you’re embarrassed, so embarrassed seeing yourself like this. heat trickles down your face and flushes your chest hot, but embarrassment be damned, you can’t make yourself look away from it. it’s sinful, it really is, the bump of jake’s hand in your panties, soft fabric clinging to his fingers when he moves them in tight circles. your hips follow unconsciously, endlessly chasing the pleasure that jake so willingly gives you. it makes you whimper, grind your hips against the pads of his fingers harder. 

“jake!” another cry of his name, unbridled and a little pathetic. you watch yourself cry out for him in your reflection, see the way your spit-slick lips curl around your most favorite word. your eyebrows are furrowed, mouth dropped open in rising pleasure. you push your thigh down onto jake’s to lift you higher into his touch with a warbled keen. 

“easy, easy sweetheart, shh. my perfect girl… perfect fuckin’ girl. i’ll get you there. you know that, right? know i’ll get you right where you need? ‘s all good, just feel it.”

a rushed nod of your head. you can’t answer him, mouth too busy moaning to give him a verbal confirmation. you wrap your fingers around his arm and clutch him, his strong muscles flexing under the hold of your fingertips. jake leans further into your side then, ducking his head to press searing kisses into the tender, sweaty skin of your neck. 

heat swirls in your belly. jake’s wrist must be aching where it’s trapped underneath the band of your panties, but his fingers don’t stop their movements. he’s rubbing you just right — the slick pads of his digits swiping over and over and over your clit, pressing them harder when they swirl right underneath it to make you jolt against him. he’s getting you there just like he promised you. 

your orgasm hits you so hard that it almost surprises you, a boiling pot bubbling over on the stove and hissing with steam. jake hisses then, groans deep in his throat when your legs clamp shut around the constant pressure, the steady movements of his fingers. he doesn’t let up until you’re jolting in overstimulation and curling into his chest. you’re keen to stay there until you finally gain your bearings back enough to notice how hard he is through his sweatpants, cock throbbing as you grip him right over the thick fabric. 

that’s what gets you to finally roll over. your smug husband still has it in him to chuckle at your uncoordinated limbs, but you get him back when your back finally hits his warm chest, ass rolling back onto his length to entice. 

“still got one more in you?” he asks. the answer’s obvious — made even more obvious by your frantic fingers tugging your ruined, sticky panties to your ankles and then reaching behind you for jake. despite his bravado, it’s easy to tell that he’s just as worked up as you are, his own hands fumbling to pull his sweats down just enough to have his heavy cock springing out of its confines. he grabs himself in hand and presses the leaking tip to you, groaning when your hole clenches in a kiss right to his tip. 

he slides home easily when you unclench, and you’re so soaked for him that a nasty, wet noise overtakes the sound of your heavy breathing when he finally presses balls deep. 

“ho-ly shit,” jake grunts. his hand finds your hip and you reach for him, clammy fingers clinging to two of his. 

your sight is filled with the reflection of you and jake from all angles. no matter where you look, forwards, upwards, flipped upside down and standing on your head with your right eye closed — you’d see the image of the two of you together, your body held tight to jake’s and jostling with his eager thrusts. he’s huffing into your neck, hot breath skittering over your skin. 

jake shushes you again when he moves his hand from your hip, a sad little coo leaving your lips at the loss of his sweet touch. your hand stays with his, follows the warmth as he rucks up your shirt more so he can grip one of your bouncing breasts with greedy fingers. a mean bite to your bottom lip can’t hold your warbled moan inside, neither can it deter the desperate words that flow freely after your moan broke the floodgates. “yes! yesyes- y-yeah, jake, ‘s so good, mm-!” 

“that’s it, there you go.” another harsh squeeze to your breast, his rough palm against your sensitive nipple makes your back bow sharply. “gonna get you there again. such a sweet girl, so damn perfect. look how well you take me, darlin’, you see it?” 

he lifts your leg, palm cupping the pit of your knee to hold you open so that you can see yourself in the mirror. 

your gaze drops downwards despite the burning in your cheeks. you’re not embarrassed enough to dissuade yourself though, you do take him perfectly, something you’ve always known — whether it be from your own devilish thoughts or jake’s insistence — but now you see it. as clear as day, you watch the slick slide of jake’s cock, the grip of your pussy keeping him snug and warm inside and begging for his cum. he’ll give it to you soon, if his erratic thrusts are anything to go by, a man fueled completely by your pleasure. 

“fuck me,” you beg, high pitched and sticky in your throat. “fuck me, please fuh- fuck me, cum in me, jake, please.” 

he’s as stubborn as a mule but never when you ask him so sweetly. jake cums with a bitten off groan, his grip on your leg tightening slightly as he does before he drops it completely from his grasp. he wraps his arm around you then, reaches between your thighs to thumb at your clit again so that you can cum with him inside, and the insistent pressure from his fingers has you squirming all over again. he holds you in place, makes you feel everything without running. that warmth washes over you again when you catch his eyes in the mirror, his unwavering gaze tender and deep and dedicated. 

jake knows when you’re done because you go completely lax in his arms. he smooths your shirt back down over your heaving chest and tucks himself back into his sweats afterward. 

a soft kiss to your shoulder, another to the shell of your ear. jake goes to pull up your panties before he hesitates, thinks twice. 

“wanna shower? you’re kinda sweaty.” 

jake’s grin is sly when you swat at him, an incredulous laugh leaving your lips. 

“me sweaty?! be serious. i’m not showering in the carpet bathroom. just go get a cloth, lieutenant.” 

he doesn’t even make you say please before he gets up with a sleepy, sated smile. 

People started running, horses were set loose, bulls were either left or ushered towards their pens. Finding your fellow Wranglers, you all started directing everyone to safety whilst you all started running yourselves. 

Javi helped a four year old who had fallen into the ground, her mom thanking Javi before running along with him. Boone and Lily kept an eye on the kids as they ran towards their parents, grabbing their hands for dear life. 

However, as you ran past the stalls, colliding into Tyler, you spotted a box under the stands. 

It was moving. 

“Come on! We gotta go!”

Tyler tried to pull you with him, but your eyes remained fixed on the box. Maybe it was just the wind. 

But it wasn’t. 

Over the yelling, and the wind, and the tramping of feet, you heard a scream. 

A baby’s cry. 

Breaking free from Tyler’s grasp, you heard him yell for you but you remained focused on the box under the stands. Why was there a baby in a box? Had someone left them? Who would leave a baby in the middle of a rodeo?

Feeling your hand slip from his, Tyler turned and called your name but you ignored him. He tried to run after you, only to be cut off by a horse. 

“Whoa!”

He slipped in the grass but managed to regain his balance just as you came to a stop by a cardboard box. 

The sirens were getting louder, and so was the wind. You didn’t have much time. 

“Y/n! Come on! We’ve got to-”

Tyler stopped talking as he saw what you lifted from the box. Was it what he thought it was?

He didn’t have long to think because in the distance he could see a growing dark cloud, ready to tear everything from the ground. 

“Y/n!”

Finally you looked up and ran towards him. Holding the baby to your chest, he placed an arm around you, both of you ducking as something came flying behind you. 

“Come on, we need to get somewhere safe.”

And you did. 

Reaching a mechanics garage, Tyler looked behind him finding people either running towards their cars. He yelled but they didn’t hear him. 

The tornado was only getting closer. 

So he ran. 

Running and letting the door close, he ran into the pit before crouching beside you. 

You lowered the baby from your chest to take a look at them. They were wrapped in a sage green baby blanket, a note clipped to it which you were yet to look at. 

“Can’t be more than five months.”

“How can someone leave a baby alone like that?”

With a loud crashing sound, you cradled the baby as Tyler turned his body towards you, covering you from the noise. 

The baby cried out and all you could do was wrap the blanket tighter around them and try to cover their ears with your hand. 

“It’s okay, it’ll be over soon.” You heard Tyler say. 

Around you, there were kids no more than seven, cradling themselves into their parents. Some were crying, their parents comforting them; others were trying their best to be brave and seeing Tyler – the Youtube famous Tornado Wrangler – made them braver. Especially when they heard him say it would be over soon. 

From the back, one of the children stood up, shouting out for their mom. Standing, Lily ran towards the back and sat down with the kid. 

“It’s okay, we’ll find your mom. But we need to stay down, okay?” A loud crash came through the top of the garage and Lily covered the child as best as she could. 

You didn’t know how long it lasted. The wind just seemed to get louder and louder, more things flew in and out of the garage before finally the noise stopped. 

Everyone stayed down for a few minutes before standing, Kate and Javi moved to check outside before coming back and helping people up and back outside. 

Most places were trashed. Tents were blown across the field, food scraps melted in with the mud and dirt, and plenty of trucks and cars had been spun and flipped around the place. 

But you still held a baby in your arms. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re safe now. You’re safe.” 

It took a moment but you finally managed to settle the baby before Javi walked over to check on you. “Is that a baby?”

You nodded. “Someone left them in a box. If I hadn’t spotted it…”

Javi placed an arm around you. “Maybe we can find someone. I’ll go with you.”

After three hours and two different phone calls being made to social services and a ton of others being made to local foster homes – most of which had been hit by the tornado, too – you were in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck as they drove back to Kate’s farm. 

She’d left not long after helping people out of the garage; fearful the tornado would take a turn and head towards her mom. 

The others stayed to help whilst Tyler took you back. He’d resupply and head back once he knew you were okay. 

“Have you read the note yet?”

You shook your head, plucking it from the blanket. “Who can just leave a baby like that? In the middle of a rodeo? What if I hadn’t spotted it? What if-”

“You can’t torture yourself with what if’s. You found ‘em. That’s what matters.”

You took a breath and looked down at the baby in front of you, sound asleep. So innocent, so tiny in comparison to the rest of the world. 

Looking at the paper, you read the cover. 

I’m Sorry.

Flipping it open, you read the short letter out loud. 

To whoever finds her, 

With everyone at the rodeo, I know she’ll be safe. It’s my hope one good family will take her in. I thought I could help her, but I can’t. Maybe you can. 

Please keep her safe 

Tyler looked over at you from where he sat. “What? No name?”

You shook your head. “Apparently not.”

“Is her birth registered?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “No idea.”

“Then we should name her.”

You looked at Tyler. “Can we even do that?”

“We can’t just keep calling her ‘her’, can we?”

“No, I suppose not.” Looking down as the sleeping baby in your arms, you spoke out loud. “What is your name, little one?”

As Tyler pulled into the driveway, he hopped out and rounded the truck to help you out as Kate and Cathy came to the front door. 

“Oh, the poor thing. Kate told me. I’ve set up a cot in the attic room. It’s the warmest room in the house.”

“Thanks, Cathy.”

“What did the cops say?”

Cathy followed you up the stairs, Kate going out to help Tyler load up the truck with fresh supplies. 

“That she has to stay with me for a few days until social services get in contact. Most homes have been taken out in the storm so there’s no-one to take her. And I didn’t like the idea of not knowing what’s going to happen.”

Cathy nodded. “I would have done the same thing. Do you know what you’re doing?”

You sighed. “Not really. I’ve never exactly found a baby in the middle of a tornado before.”

Cathy just graced you with a warm smile. “We’ll all help out. This kid won’t have to worry about anything.”

It wasn’t until just after two in the morning that everyone came back, instantly crashing into their beds. But Tyler waited. 

“She’s up in the attic.”

“Thank you.”

You heard Tyler’s footsteps walking down the hall before the door clicked open. “I’m still awake. It’s okay. Come on in.”

He slipped his boots off by the door before closing it behind him. 

“How is everyone?”

“Tired.” Tyler answered truthfully. “How are you?”

Tyler stood beside the crib where your hand was in between the bars, holding onto the baby’s hand. Gently, Tyler lifted up the blanket that had dipped a little before laying his finger in the baby’s other hand. 

Almost instantly, their fingers curled around his finger. Her head turned towards him before she sighed constantly and relaxed again. 

“I think she likes you.” You smiled at Tyler from where you lay in bed. 

Tyler couldn’t help but smile as he looked back at the baby. “Not a care in the world. Have you thought of a name yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. I was hoping the others could help. Cathy says she has a baby book somewhere filled with names.”

Slowly, making sure not to hit the creaky parts of the floor, he walked to the other side of the bed and lay on top of the covers with you. 

“We’ll find a name.”

It was laying in the silence, hearing the content snores from the baby, that sent you and Tyler into a deep sleep. When you woke up, your hand was back on your bed and the baby was no longer in her crib. 

For a moment, you panicked. Until you saw Tyler stood by the dresser, talking quietly to her. 

“You’re lucky I know how to do this, or else I’d be asking Boone for help and as much as he’s my best friend, he’s not the person I’d want to ask.” Tyler said to her. “You know, he once did a backflip off the top of my truck. Yeah, just did it. Right there. And as cool as it was, I did think we were about to end up in the ER. Point is – don’t follow Boone’s idea of backflipping off a truck. It’s very dangerous.”

Clasping the baby grow shut, Tyler placed the dirty diaper into a diaper bag and threw it into the lined trash can beside him with the other diaper wipes. 

Then you saw an image that your ovaries would never let you forget. 

A freshly washed Tyler dressed in a clean white t-shirt and jeans, lifting up a baby before holding her against his chest and walking around the small floor before taking her to the window, showing her the view. 

“You’re a natural.”

Tyler turned his head and looked at you before smiling. “Hey, you’re awake. How’d you sleep?”

You nodded. “Pretty good. How long have you been up?”

“Only about an hour. She woke up like thirty minutes ago. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you showered yourself and got dressed before meeting Tyler downstairs where Cathy was teaching him how to properly burp her. 

Of course, everyone had a thousand questions so once the understandable questions were cleared up, you were all sat in the living room, the baby on Kate’s knee, going over baby names. 

“I never knew so much went into naming a baby.”

Cathy nodded. “It sets them up for the rest of their lives. God knows it took me long enough to choose Kate’s.”

“Really?” She asked. 

Cathy nodded. “Your dad and I vetoed a lot of names in the beginning. It wasn’t until the midwife came running up our driveway after her shift had finished that I decided on a name.”

Dexter flipped through the book before offering up a name. Nobody agreed on it. 

It wasn’t until after an entire day of going through baby names, different meanings, past relationships with the different names – some good, some bad – that a name was found. 

Despite having napped, eaten, burped and a fresh diaper, she just wouldn’t settle. Until Dexter took her outside to look up at the stars in the sky. 

By the time you walked out onto the porch, standing beside Tyler, Dexter was pointing up at the different constellations and explaining each one and what they meant. 

“I don’t know how he does it, but he’d settled her.”

“It’s because he’s calming,” you said. “If anyone was going to be calm enough to settle her, it would be Dex.”

Tyler smiled. “Any word from the social?”

You shook your head as you shoved your hands into your back pockets. “Not yet. They’re looking for a home but, in the meantime, she’s stuck with us. They’re sending out a social worker tomorrow to come and look at the place to make sure she’s not in any immediate danger with us.”

Tyler nodded. “We still need to find her a name.”

You sighed. “I know.”

Looking back out to Dexter and the baby, you leaned your head against Tyler’s shoulder.

“And no matter where you are in the world, you can just look up at the sky and know we’re looking at the same one.” Dexter told her. “I don’t know how long you’re gonna be with us, kiddo. But…if you remember us, or need some help, there’s a chance the stars will be able to show you.”

As Dexter looked up into the sky and back down to the baby, the stars reflecting in her eyes, something hit him. 

He turned around quickly. “SKYE!”

You and Tyler stood tall and looked at each other before looking back. “What?”

Dexter walked over to you both. “Skye. Her name. We could call her Skye.”

You and Tyler looked at each other before looking down at the baby. “Do you like that name?”

She definitely looked like a Skye. And by the happy babble she gave, she seemed to agree. 

Tyler looked at you. “Skye it is, then. Guys! Come out here!”

Following one by one, they all appeared on the porch. “Dexter’s found her name.”

They all looked at him, hopeful. 

“Skye.”

They all gave an ‘aww’. “Skye. Hi, Skye.”

Beside Tyler, Boone almost collapsed. “Man, I tell you. Choosing a baby name is hard.”

Tyler chuckled. “Maybe you can find another way to use those post-it notes.”

So, finally she had a name. 

All she needed was a home. 

But from the social worker’s inspection, she had already found one. 

She came over three times in the space of two weeks, surprising everyone each time. But each time, her report came out better than the last until she made you an offer. 

“Now, we can take her into foster care. There are a few homes a couple towns over but there’s no guarantee for adoption. Between the recent tornadoes and the cost of living recently, the cost of taking in a baby this young…it’s rare we’re gonna find a couple willing to take her in permanently. But, myself and my colleagues do believe the best place for Skye is here.”

You couldn’t deny you hadn’t grown attached to her. Nobody could. You’d all found a new routine that easily fitted around her, and deep down, none of you wanted it any other way. But was a Tornado family truly the best place?

“If you didn’t already have a home base, we wouldn’t have considered it so quickly. But…” The social worker looked around. “You’ve got a good home here. Space for her to run around, plenty of people willing to help. So, if any of you would, in fact, wish to take Skye on permanently, I can help you do so.”

With Skye in your arms, you looked around at the rest of the Wranglers. They’d all been in tears for the last two days, figuring out how to say goodbye to her since you’d all been under the belief the social worker was getting ready to take her away. 

“I…”

You looked at Tyler and the others. Then Lily leaned forward. “Can we talk about it, first?”

The social worker nodded. “Of course. This isn’t a light decision to be made. And it doesn’t have to be right away, but until you do make a decision, Skye will be taken into a foster home.”

Then Cathy stood. “It’s your decision. If you choose to keep her…her room is already set up.” Once more, she graced you with a warm smile before inviting the social worker into the kitchen for a drink. Then everyone took a seat. 

“It’s a big decision.”

“Are we sure tornado wrangling is the place for a kid?”

“It’s not like we’d be taking her with us into a tornado.”

“We can all split the duties.”

“But if we keep her, one of us is going to have to adopt her. We can’t all be on the birth certificate.”

“Do we even know what we’re doing? Shouldn’t she be with a less adrenaline driven family?”

“They do say kids have less allergies growing up on a farm. They have more compassion and understanding of the world.”

“And we can help her with her homework.”

“Two of my childhood friends are now teachers at our old school.” Kate mentioned. “So it’s a good school district.”

It was another ten minutes of similar discussions until eventually Dani spoke up. 

“You guys know what we’re doing?”

The other’s didn’t seem to catch on to what they were doing. But you did. 

Looking down at the sleepy baby in your arms, you felt yourself smile. “We’re planning our lives with her. I can’t imagine a life without her.”

“Neither can I.” Lily leaned over, stroking Skye’s arm. 

“Neither can I.” Boone joined, leaning over the back of the sofa. 

Dani was in agreement, then Javi, Kate, Dexter and finally Tyler. 

Crouching on the floor in front of you, Tyler looked at you. “So, we’re doing this?”

You both looked around at the others, them looking back. 

“We’re doing this.”

~~~~~~

The sun had been beating down all day. Yourself and the Wranglers had managed to chase the third EF-2 of the week and were finally putting the data through its paces. And just as the hum of the barn wrapped around you all for the second time that hour, you heard a familiar set of giggles. 

“Momma!” 

Skye giggled and shrieked as she looked behind her before running through the barn and towards you. Sliding away from your desk, you opened your arms and she jumped into them as quickly as she could. 

“Quick, you’ve gotta hide me.”

“Hide you? Why?”

Then you heard Boone’s voice from outside the barn door. “I’m the big, scary monster.”

Skye shrieked again before she wiggled from your grasp and hid under your desk. As you looked at her, she placed her finger against her lips and you nodded before you rolled your chair back towards your desk. 

Boone continued his act of being the big scary monster, calling out for his new best friend he was playing hide and seek with. 

“I’m sorry Mr Monster, I haven’t seen Skye anywhere.”

Boone pouted. “Mr Monster’s sad. He can’t find his best friend.”

Then from under Kate’s desk, Skye ran out and around. “I’m here!”

“Best friend!” 

Boone scooped her up into his arms, her giggles filling the entire barn. You’d never get tired of hearing her laugh. 

“Do I hear a Tiny Tornado in here?”

Skye leaned up high and gasped. “Let me down, let me down.”

Boone set her on her feet. “There you go, kid.”

“Yay!”

Running directly back down to the barn doors, Tyler dropped the pile of rope he was carrying over his shoulder, to the ground beside him. As Skye reached him, he bent down before he lifted her into the air, and he swung her back into his arms. 

“How’s your day been, kiddo?”

“Aun’y Cathy teached me to ride a ‘orse.”

“Taught!” You called out to Skye.

Tyler nodded. “Your mom’s right. She taught you to ride a horse.”

“She taught me to ‘ide and ‘orse.”

Tyler smiled. “Did you enjoy it?”

Skye nodded. “She promised to show me tomorrow.”

Tyler smiled, “Well, in that case, you’re gonna need your own hat.”

From your desk, you watched as Tyler set Skye onto her feet before he reached for something just outside the barn doors. Then, with one knee on the floor, Tyler pulled her to stand a little closer. 

“This right ‘ere. This was my first cowboy hat.”

Skye’s eyes lit up. You could all see her practically vibrating on the spot as she gasped and tried to stay still. 

“And since Cathy tells me you did such a good job with the horses today, I think it’s only right you get your own.”

“Really?”

Tyler nodded. “‘Course, kiddo.”

“So, Boone, you recording this?” Tyler turned back to Skye. “S’ not everyday a girl gets ‘er first hat.”

Boone pressed record as everyone came and stood around her, Dani and Kate giving their own rendition of a crowning ceremony theme. 

And once the hat hit her head, Skye’s eyes kept looking up at it. 

“What’d ya think, Momma?” 

Skye turned to you, her eyes begging the same question Tyler just asked. And you could help but just smile. 

“I think you look wonderful, little one.”

Skye started smiling even wider than before and jumping up and down before nearly knocking Tyler over with how tightly she hugged him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

“Baby, you wanna go and show Cathy?”

Skye stood back and nodded. “Can I?”

You and Tyler nodded and with a hand on the top of her hat, she ran out of the barn and down the field towards Cathy. 

“Thank you for doing that with her, Ty.”

Tyler just smiled. “She’s my Tiny Tornado.”

“You know, she’s not gonna wanna ever take it off.”

And it was true. Skye wore it whenever she could. Running through the fields, eating her dinner, taking a bath; she did try and keep it on when getting dressed, but it got knocked off her head a few times.

The only time she took it off was when she saw Tyler take his own off when he hung it by the door. Coming down the stairs, you saw two cowboy hats hanging by the door and it made your heart melt. 

And it only melted even more when you walked onto the back porch and found Skye cuddled up and falling fast asleep on Tyler’s chest. 

An image like that one was one that you loved to see. It happened almost every night. Tyler was the one she would fall asleep on. Sometimes it would be in Lily’s lap when she played with her hair or when Dexter would tell her all about the stars. 

Skye would fight sleep when she was learning but eventually sleep would win. 

And she’d only fall deeper into sleep when Tyler began to lightly swing the porch seat. 

“Can you believe she’s almost four?” You asked Tyler later that evening as you both folded what was left of the bed sheets and clothes. The others had long since gone to bed. 

It was like that most nights; you and Tyler the last to go to bed. 

Tyler shook his head. “Feels like only yesterday we registered her birth.”

“Before we know it, she’ll be off to college.”

Tyler chuckled. “We’ve still got years before that happens, but…I know what you mean. She’s growing up.”

“She’s learning how to ride a horse. Before we know it, she’ll be taming a tornado.”

Tyler smiled. “I don’t call her a Tiny Tornado for nothing.”

You smiled at a memory. “Did you see she hung her hat up, same as you?”

Tyler shook his head and disappeared into the hallway before coming back. “I think that’s officially the cutest thing I’ve seen today.”

“I know you’re not down on her birth certificate, but…you are her dad, Tyler.” You told him. “She loves you like one, and I know you love her as a daughter. I…I just wanted to tell you that.”

Tyler smiled. “Thank you.”

Forcing your gaze away from his, you looked back to the freshly folded clothes. “We should get to bed. God only knows what time that kid’ll wake up to be outside with Cathy and the horses.”

Tyler chuckled, “You’re right. Goodnight.”

“Night, Ty.”

Tyler watched as you climbed the stairs with the washing basket of freshly folded clothes and he waited until he heard your door click shut before he made his rounds around the house, locking the place up. 

And as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he wondered if he would ever be brave enough to tell you the truth about his feelings. 

But apparently, the Tiny Tornado had enough courage to do that for the both of you. 

It was a few weeks later, sitting at the breakfast table that Skye asked a question that nobody had been expecting. 

“What’s a romance?”

Swinging her legs over the edge of the table chair as she waited on her cereal, Skye didn’t know what kind of bomb she was about to drop. 

“Why do you wanna know, kiddo?” Dani asked as she handed Skye her bowl of coco pops. 

Skye just shrugged. “That’s what Boone called my princess book.”

“Well, it’s not a bad thing.” Lily assured the little girl. “In fact, it’s something really, really good.”

“Is it?”

You nodded. “Yep.”

As Tyler placed his plate down on the table, he sat down beside Skye. “And there isn’t just one kind, either.”

“There isn’t?”

Javi chuckled from where he was leaning against the dishwasher. “Maybe you wanna explain what a romance is first, before you tell her there’s more than one.”

And so they did. 

“It’s when two people meet in a story and they fall in love. So, like with Cinderella. You know how she meets Prince Charming but he doesn’t know who she is until she puts on the glass slipper and then they live happily ever after?”

Skye nodded at Cathy. 

“Well, that’s a romance. It’s when two people fall in love and live happily ever after.”

For a moment, you felt a pair of eyes fall on you, but when you looked up, he was looking back at Skye. 

“But there’s more than one?”

Crouching beside her, Dani explained. “You know how Dexter has all those books in the back of his camper?”

Skye nodded. 

“Well, think of a romance like them. Each one has a different story.”

“Like Disney Princesses?”

Dani nodded. “Exactly like Disney Princesses. Sometimes they don’t know who the other person is until the big reveal, sometimes they’re childhood friends who fall in love when they meet again, sometimes they’re mortal enemies and think they don’t like each other until something makes them realise they don’t hate that person anymore.”

“Ooh, like Princess Diaries!” 

Everyone, including Skye, turned and looked at Javi. 

“What? It’s a good film.”

“Are there any other romances?”

Dani nodded. “Sure there is. Umm…”

Dani looked around the kitchen for help. 

“Sometimes they’re soulmates who fall in love in every universe.” Skye gave a confused look, so Lily added; “Like the stories in the stars.”

“It can be love at first sight,” you told Skye. 

“Sometimes they can be best friends and not realise they’re in love, even though everyone else can see it.” Cathy mentioned. 

Then Skye dropped a tornado that was far too extreme to deal with at eight in the morning. 

“Oh, like Momma and Tyler.”

The entire kitchen went silent. Javi, mid chew, looked over at Tyler who was turning redder by the minute as he looked at you by the stove, standing incredibly still. 

Skye looked around, a little confused about what she had said. “What? What is it?”

You turned and looked at your daughter, speaking to her just as Tyler did. 

“Nothing, honey-”

Just as you and Tyler locked eyes, the tension sparking from both of you, Boone barrelled through the back door with Dexter not too far behind him. 

“Told you I could run it quicker, man.”

“A car is still faster.” Dexter told Boone. 

Then they looked around, noticing the sheepish looks on everyone’s faces. 

“Hey, what happened here?” Boone asked. 

Lily stood, coming to your rescue. “Nothing. Did you get the-” She looked inside the brown paper bag. “YES! Waffles!”

As commotion started up in the kitchen again, Skye looked up at you from her seat as you handed her a spoon. “Momma, did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, baby.” Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, you sneaked a glance over at Tyler before forcing a smile back on your face to look at Skye. 

“Eat up, honey. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

“Okay, Momma.”

For the rest of the day, you and Tyler avoided each other. Cathy apologised to both of you for having given the example in the first place, but she made sure to tell you she thought Skye was right. 

“You’ve been pining after her for years.” Cathy told Tyler as he lifted another hay bale onto the back of the truck. 

“We work together, Cathy. Nothing can happen there.”

“The hell it can’t.” Tyler looked at her. “Tyler, you and Y/n have been practically raising a kid together for almost four years. From day one of you getting here, I’ve seen how you look at her. And I know the others agree with me.”

Tyler stood tall. “How do the other’s know?”

Cathy just gave him a look. 

“Either way, the kid is right. You’re both in love with each other, you’re both just too chicken to do something about it.”

Cathy gave a similar speech to you, too, when you came to check on Skye at the stables. 

“And if you’re about to tell me you’re worried about Skye, don’t. Whether his name is on her birth certificate or not; whether she calls him dad or not. He is her dad. She is his daughter. Nothing will ever change that. Ever.”

With a short sigh, you looked out into the field where Skye was carrying a small bucket of water around to each of the garden plots. 

Similar conversations were had throughout the day until the late afternoon rolled in and Tyler and you had to awkward dance-shuffle around each other to get in and out of the house whilst trying to avoid all sense of eye contact, but giving plenty when the other wasn’t looking. 

Unbeknownst to both yourself and Tyler, Skye was standing on the fence bars with Kate. 

The kid sighed heavily. “They’re always like that.”

“You’ve only been here for four years, kid. Imagine being here seven.”

Skye gasped. “Seven?” She tried to count that on her fingers quickly, but needed Kate’s help. Skye gasped again. “That’s bigger than me.”

Kate hummed as she nodded. 

“Is this like one of the romances from before?” Skye sounded out. 

Kate nodded. “I’m afraid so, kiddo. I’m afraid so.”

And unbeknownst to Kate at that moment, Skye was hatching a plan. But she needed her best friend’s help. 

“Can you help me down?”

“‘Course, honey. Ready, three, two, one, jump.” 

“Weeeee.” Holding onto her securely, Kate lifted Skey from the bars and set her down on the ground beside her. 

“Thanks, Kate.”

“Be careful, honey!”

“I will!”

Less than five minutes later she burst through the barn doors and ran towards Boone, yelling out his name over and over again. 

“Slow your roll there, kiddo.”

“I need your help, now, come on.” She tugged Boone’s hand until he was stood up. “Come on, come on, come on.”

Skye dragged him towards the carrot beds before laying on the dirt, telling him to join her. And so they hatched a plan. 

“You’re a genius, Skye.”

“What’s a gen…gen..igus?”

“Genius.” Boone smiled. “It’s like a crazy smart person.”

“Oh, cool.”

High fiving, they got to work. Everyone had their orders to be in bed early. They couldn’t know why, but they all agreed. And Skye’s plan of laying in the dirt worked because the minute she came running through the back door, you caught her mid run. 

“Where do you think you’re going, little miss?”

Skye smiled like butter wouldn’t melt. “To the table.”

“Covered in muck? What have you been doing? Rolling in the muck? Come on, bathroom.”

You ran Skye a bath before shoving her dirty clothes into the washing machine with the rest of the dirty laundry. Twenty minutes later, the mud Skye had collected on her person was washed down the drain and she was in a fresh pair of pajamas. 

The rest of the night ran smoothly enough. Dinner was made and eaten, updates were shared about work, and Skye had asked Tyler to read her a bedtime story. 

He read two stories before she began falling asleep beside him so sitting up, he laid her down under her covers before tucking her in. 

And just as he shut the book and laid it on her nightstand, he opened her eyes and looked at Tyler. 

“Do you love Momma?”

Tyler felt his cheeks heat. “Get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“But do you love her? Like in the stories?”

Tyler looked at his daughter. “What’s got you so interested all of a sudden?”

“Lily told me what soulmates means.”

“Did she now?”

Skye nodded. “That’s you and Momma.”

“Skye-”

“Do you love her?”

Looking at Skye, Tyler felt his heart tug inside of his chest. He couldn’t lie to her. 

“More than she’ll ever know. More than I’ll ever be able to tell her.” Tyler admitted, unaware of the presence just outside the door. 

“I think you should tell her.”

The corner of Tyler’s mouth curved into a smile. “Do you now?”

Yawning, Skye nodded. But then Tyler sighed. “It’s not that simple, honey.”

“But what if she floats away like Mary?”

Tyler’s brows furrowed. “Mary?”

“Poppins. Burt never got to tell her he loved her.”

Tyler chuckled. “Skye, your mom isn’t going to float away. Now, close your eyes and get some sleep.”

Leaning over, Tyler kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight, my Tiny Tornado.”

Then he flicked the lamp off; only Skye wasn’t finished. 

“If you love her, you should tell her.”

In the moonlight darkness, Tyler saw the look his daughter was giving him. She was pleading with him. 

And if a four year old could see it and say it…

He leaned back down and kissed her head. “Go to sleep. We’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

Skye yawned. “I love you, too. Goodnight, daddy.”

It wasn’t the first time Skye had called him that. Usually it happened in moments like this, where she was really tired and already half awake and half asleep. But it made his heart soar out of his chest all the same. 

Quietly leaving the room, he closed the door behind him and waited there for a moment. The lights were off around most of the house since everyone had gone to bed once Skye had said she was. 

But one light was still on. 

And he knew who it belonged to. 

Walking down the hallway, Tyler waited by the edge of the hallway for a moment, just watching you fold some more fresh laundry whilst he prepared what he was going to say. 

“Hey.” 

That seemed like a good start. 

You looked up, a little startled. “Hey. She asleep?”

Tyler nodded and walked further into the living room before taking a seat on the arm of the chair, pulling a few items from the laundry pile to fold. 

A slightly awkward silence settled over you both for a moment. 

“Listen, about this morning-”

“She was right.” Tyler said, looking at you. “Skye was right. This morning, she was right. With everything that she said.”

“Tyler-”

He stood up. “No, just. Just wait. Please. Let…let me get this out? And then if you want me to leave and never talk about it again, I will.” You couldn’t speak so you just nodded and listened as he continued. “Skye was right. I am in love with you. I have always been in love with you. I think I always will be. I know there’s a lot to consider; work, home and, most importantly, Skye. But if…” Tyler took a breath. “If there’s any part of you that feels the same…I think we should do something about it.”

“Finally taking our daughter’s advice?”

Tyler was shocked but a small smile came to your face. “I wasn’t spying or anything. I was walking down the hall and I heard Skye and…thinking about it, maybe I was spying.”

Tyler chuckled. 

“But you’re right.” You told him. “You’re both right. I don’t know when my feelings changed for you, but I know what I feel today, what I feel when I see you with Skye, and what I feel when you look at me. I’m in love with you, too, Tyler.”

“You are?” You nodded. “You’re not just saying-”

You shook your head. “I’m saying it because it’s the truth.”

So, standing in the middle of the dimly lit living room, you and Tyler looked at each other. One of his hands in yours, your other resting on his wrist as he pushed his hand under your hair to cup your cheek.  

“Kiss her.”

The small and familiar voice made both of you and Tyler turn to look at the corridor. Skye stood, trying her best to hide, behind the lamp and the table it sat on. 

Tyler looked back at you with a smile which you both shared. 

“Can’t go against orders, can we?”

You shook your head. “No, we can’t.”

Finally feeling him kiss you was like a thousand dreams were shattering, only to be replaced with the fact that the reality of Tyler was much better than the fantasy you’d granted yourself. 

And, as it turned out, having you and Tyler finally grant yourselves permission to be open about your feelings for one another didn’t change much in terms of routine, save for a few more morning kisses before breakfast and quick pecks to the lips or cheek throughout the day when passing each other. 

Though Hangman would loathe to admit it with his two confirmed air combat kills, she knows herself that no pilot wants to be under enemy fire or in a position to take a life; it's an unfortunate consequence and frequent reality of the job. 

In the time they’ve known each other, she’s heard Jake speak frequently about his mother and her homemade pie waiting for him in Texas. He tells stories about the boys he used to play football with in high school, and family reunions with little nieces and nephews running about barefoot. She’s heard him making plans to buy a home and settle down. He dreams of a future. Anyone paying attention knows that beneath the outwardly cocky exterior, and adrenaline rushes, he's afraid of dying. 

It wasn't enemy fire that took them down two days ago, but rather sudden major malfunctions that left them without any navigation system, defective coms, and an aircraft almost completely unresponsive to pilot commands. Their saving grace had been Hangman's quick thinking to point them towards a clearing in the tree line, and her decision to dump their fuel as they descended rapidly toward the ground. Flying too low to eject safely they braced themselves for impact, an apology for something he could not have stopped on Jake's lips. 

The sounds of alarms and rapid beeping tones woke them. The smell of burning jet fuel startled them into action again. Jake's head stayed lulled forward his eyes slipping shut again before his limbs burst into action with a level of urgency that forced her to react with equal fervour. She watched wide-eyed as Hangman pushed open the canopy pulling himself up and out of his seat, rolling sideways out the opening. Only in watching his exit did she notice the awkward angle the jet had landed at. The nose crumpled by the force of the impact, their wings clipped and lost somewhere in the trees or across the clearing; the body had slid half on its side, a couple hundred feet through revealing mud beneath and leaving a wake of burning grass melting through the powder white snow. A sharp pain threatened to make her lose her breakfast as she clambered from her seat and the tangle of buckles and straps that had saved her life. She tumbled with purpose but little grace out into the frozen valley. 

“Alright?” Hangman asked standing with his back straight as she doubled over trying hard to catch her breath. She nodded but he didn't make any effort to speak or move giving her a moment to collect herself. 

Sucking in the ice-cold air she ignored the searing pain tearing through her rib cage. Her attention drifted from herself back to Jake who swayed on his feet, the soft crunch of snow sounding beneath his feet as he tried to find a place to stand steady. Watching him pale she only grew more convinced Jake was concussed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Dizzy for sure”. 

“Well, we'll thank our lucky stars we crashed in allied territory. Once we find shelter, I'll run a concussion protocol for you.” 

Their non-functioning radios had left them no way to communicate their mayday calls. They had tried in vain to transmit their approximate coordinates as their headsets filled with static. Their navigation system ran haywire, the coordinates too impossible to be accurate in any case. 

His brows furrowed as he turned to survey their crash sight. His usually bright smile had been pulled into a firm line that confirmed to her they'd be stranded for a while. 

A gust of wind reminded them of how exposed they were in the clearing. While enemy scouts wouldn't be an issue, the potential for hypothermia would be. 

“Map. Compass. Let's grab the chutes from the seats as well,” she suggested. Hangman was uncharacteristically quiet in his agreement, giving her a nod of affirmation as they collected what they could from the jet. 

The sun was still high in the sky above them providing decent light though filtered through bare branches and evergreen limbs. Somewhat guarded from the biting wind they allowed themselves to settle for a moment hoping to find their bearings and build a solid plan for their survival. 

Before they began to plummet they had been about a quarter of an hour's flight from the air base on the other side of the valley. Plotting their estimated crash site on the paper map they found themselves nearly 250 miles away from their destination, walking sun up to sun down would still mean a 2-and-a-half day walk. 

“Look alive sunshine,” she teased as Jake's eyes began to droop. He'd let out a laugh his smile surprisingly bright as he tilted his head back to look at her. “You're so bossy,” he complained. 

“I'm about to get bossier, I've got to make sure you don't have a concussion”. 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted. 

“Don't sass me Seresin,” she warned, though she tried to keep the tone playful. 

For years they'd played this game; pushing each other's buttons skirting around the edges of flirtation and toeing the line of verbal bullying. Ribbing him was how she had learned to be affectionate towards him. Giving him a hard time made him flustered, or it made him laugh, and either reaction was a well-welcomed sight that had left a fluttering in her chest. The lighthearted back and forth they'd learned to communicate through made it easier to ignore the sidelong glances, and yearning that had begun to take shape beneath the surface. 

“Alright,” she sighed, pulling the tiny flashlight out of her belt, “eyes on me”.

“They usually are,” he smirked. 

With the light, she checked his eyes and got promising results: no abnormal dilation. Both pupils were even and responsive to light. “Today's date?” She asked him. 

“February twelfth”.

“Your date of birth?” 

“October twenty-first. Nineteen ninety”.

“Any headache, nausea, persistent dizziness?” 

He responded no to all the symptoms and she allowed some relief to fill her knowing the initial symptoms had dissipated and not worsened. Finally, she held one finger up waiting for his eyes to focus. “Follow me,” she said her hand moving to the left, his eyes followed. 

“I'll follow you anywhere,” he said as her hand moved to the right. 

“Don't flirt with me, Hangman”. 

“Wouldn't it be stranger if I didn't? I’m just proving I’m not concussed”. His point was somewhat valid but she didn't let him know she thought so, continuing her evaluation in silence.

He's like this with everyone. She'd been telling herself the same thing for years. You're not special. He'll flirt with anyone. A painful truth that's helped her ignore his beautiful green eyes and warm countenance. 

---

Laying on her back in the snow drawing her last breaths now she wishes she could see those eyes one more time as her vision begins to blur. The blue sky swirls into the emerald pines, the colours lightened by the soft sunlight. The colours like sea glass make her think of him and tears begin to gather behind her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she wants to say but only a pathetic whimper leaves her. She wonders if she would have been kinder to him if she had known she was going to die. Would she have been more honest with her feelings? Or pushed them down deeper in some foolish attempt to protect him? The sun continues to rise and she knows he will wake soon. Selfishly, she hopes she’s drifted off before then, unwilling to see him hurting on her behalf. 

---

“Not concussed, but still a pain in my ass,” she had teased him, pushing his hair off his forehead, double-checking for any wounds. He took her words as permission to keep moving. Each of them threw a parachute pack over their shoulders and continued their walk northeast through the woods. 

By 1900 hours the sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and the sky above turned a deep blue dotted by tiny spangling stars. Breathtaking and brilliant it had been easy to forget, just for a moment, where they were. She slung the chute of her shoulders towards the ground hissing at the movement. She hadn't had the time to check herself over. Best case her ribs were bruised, at worst she'd find out they were broken, and there would be nothing to help her until they had access to a medical bay anyway. 

“Are you sure you're okay, Angel?” Hangman asked, using her call sign letting her know he meant business. He was not asking as a friend, he was asking as her teammate. 

“Yes,” she lied. The pain was tolerable, only worsening with sharp or sudden movement. Nothing she couldn't handle, and nothing she would force Jake to worry about. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn't be opposed to stripping you down to check for injuries,” his flirtations softened the conversation in an attempt to get her to tell him the truth. 

“In your dreams,” she responded instead, moving along the base of a nearby tree in hopes of gathering some firewood and kindling.

“Quite frequently, actually,” the wink he shot her way repeats in her head even now piercing through the fourth wall of the masquerade they had built, an honest and boyish confirmation that their feelings for each other were something beyond friendship. 

The plethora of fresh fallen snow meant finding water wasn't an issue of concern. Finding food would be more difficult and that first night under the stars they sat watching the flickering flames of the fire they had built, their empty stomachs rumbling with nothing to fill them. 

Stretched between two trees, one of the parachutes they liberated from their wreck was used as a windscreen, protecting them from the cold. The second one lay draped around their shoulders as an extra layer. 

Proximity wasn't an issue for them. They had spent enough time in cramped cockpits together to be familiar with the sounds of each other breathing. They had sat shoulder to shoulder in briefings enough time that she had memorized the smell of his cologne. And yet, when he put his arm around her to pull her closer in their makeshift cocoon her heart stuttered. How could his hands be so strong when her own wouldn't stop shaking? How could a simple touch warm her from the inside out? His fingers brushed along her side with no real pressure, but still prompted a gasp to escape her. Tears left glass trails on her cheeks in the firelight. 

She tried to turn away from him, to feign sleep but he wouldn't have it. “Hey,” Jake caught her attention, waiting for her to look at him before he continued, “We're going to be okay”. 

She believed him. 

---

Everything about their uniforms has been painstakingly designed to keep them safe. 100% cotton undershirts and pants because the material won't melt to their skin in the event of a cockpit fire. But the surprisingly soft base layers have never stopped the blaze burning inside her. From the moment she laid eyes on Jake Seresin she knew he'd be the beginning and the end of everything. He pushed people away with his cocky attitude, somehow convinced that his refusal to be vulnerable would keep him safe from forming meaningful bonds; that he might get further ahead if he had fewer people to let down. But, he'd let her in. He'd let her break down his walls and climb over the fences he'd tried to put up. She'd held him when he got the news his father had died. On a ship thousands of miles from his home he'd told her about his brother dying when he was a child, and growing up in his shadow. He told her how badly he wanted to make his parents proud and how lonely he had made himself in the process. He'd kissed her forehead as they parted that night, and her world changed forever. 

What had been an embarrassing schoolgirl crush she couldn’t shake had become a push-and-pull relationship neither of them could do without. She knew how to put him in his place when he took a joke too far. He knew how to goad her into showing everyone what she was capable of, refusing to let her slip into the background when he knew she deserved more. 

Two sides of the same coin, they were joined a the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”. She wishes she would have said it. Lying at death’s door she remembers being told that you often regret the things you haven’t done more than you regret the things you did. “I’m in love with you, Jake Seresin,” she whispers to the wind. 

---

Their second day of walking was far more painful than the first. Jake had startled himself awake, his eyes wild as he fought to remember where it was they had ended up. The acceptance of their reality hadn't seemed to comfort him and he grew uncharacteristically quiet as they packed up their makeshift camp. The pine trees towering above them had been kind enough to shed some of their cones while they had lay sleeping in shifts. Though they hadn't offered many, they were able to harvest a handful of pine nuts between the two of them for breakfast. It was nowhere near a meal, but the snack had managed to quiet their angry stomachs for a few minutes.

The ache in her side had grown to become a constant agony. What had started as a negligible strain was now a torment that threatened to collapse her with each footfall. Despite the subzero temperatures, a sweat had broken out across her brow, and the heat spreading up the back of her neck left her wanting to strip off her cold weather jacket and flight suit. 

“Have you ever had rabbit?” Jake asked around noon. His footsteps had slowed enough for her to catch up with him. His voice had startled her after all the silence. 

“I can't say that I have,” she answered. A gunshot pulled her from her thoughts and she realized she hadn't ever answered out loud. Jake stood a few feet ahead of her, his service pistol in his hand. The world around her was spinning. The trees blurring together as a sudden wave of nausea filled her. She could hear her name being called; muffled and distorted. Jake. His face soon filled her line of vision. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he told her, but her mind still struggled to put the pieces together. For a moment it felt like she was underwater, all her breath gone from her lungs and all she could feel was the scalding pain burning from the inside out. Momentarily she entertained the idea that it was her who had been shot until she spotted the rabbit lying lifeless in the snow. 

“We need to eat,” Jake spoke again, “you're going quiet on me and I don't like that-- we’ll get some energy in you again before we keep moving”.

The very idea of eating anything threatened to leave her dry-heaving, but she took advantage of the moment to rest. He didn't mention her lack of assistance building a fire or preparing the rabbit, but she watched with incredible focus his hands moving with precision and surprising gentleness for the task at hand. 

She can recall him telling her stories about his childhood, standing on step stools to reach the countertop in his mother's kitchen rolling out pie crusts and later on slicing apples. He once told her that it was his mother who had taught him patience and gratitude while they baked together; two traits he had neglected to exhibit far too often in his adult life. 

She listened to him thank the rabbit for its life as he cut away pieces to feed to her. There was an unmistakable love in the way he moved, his eyes cast over his shoulder to check on her. Slowly, she realized that she was not doing a good job hiding her suffering. In a fleeting thought, she imagined Jake having to carry her lifeless body for the rest of their journey. In their line of work, it had never been considered morbid to have funeral plans from a young age. Flying with him for years she had learned to trust him implicitly, despite the call sign he'd earned and worked tirelessly to recover from she knew early on that he'd do right by her. Challenging authority, but always following the rules; complete and unwavering dedication to whatever task he had at hand; precision and perfection in the execution of his duties be it laundry or taking down a fighter jet midair. As her energy continued to leave her she took comfort in knowing her life would be in Hangman's hands. 

“I'm not hungry,” she said to him. 

“You need to eat,” he insisted again but didn't push any farther. With a longanimity he forgot he possessed, and a magnanimity he couldn't credit himself for carrying he cared for her; making the executive decision to make camp early as her seemingly catatonic state worsened. She managed to chew and swallow bites of the gamey meat, her body grateful for the nutrition.  

Night fell too soon after and the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustle of creatures that may have been lurking left both of them far more on edge than they had been the night before. 

“Scoot closer,” she whispered to him, and he complied without complaint. Neither of them was warm, but their proximity to the fire helped them imagine they could be. His shoulder bumped hers and she leaned her head against him. “Put your arm around me?” She asked. He complied again this time with more hesitation. 

“You know if you wanted to snuggle with me you could've just said so,” he teased though she could tell his heart wasn't in it. 

“I'm scared,” she confessed, a half-truth. She was terrified, feeling her heart rate starting to slow by the minute, her vision slipping in and out of focus. 

“We're going to make it home,” he whispered, both arms wrapped around her now, his lips pressed to her hairline. Tears blurred in her eyes and she gave up fighting back a sob, body shaking and heartbreaking. “I won't let anything happen to you,” he said so sincerely. She cried harder knowing she had already broken that promise for him. 

She had realized she'd lost feeling in her fingers and toes when he'd begun to trace shapes on her back. Her digits buzzed with needles and pins and her limbs had began to feel heavy. Bile rose in her throat choking her as she scrambled to get her distance before dinner made a reappearance. Jake didn't make a fuss, or make his worry known, but she could tell that her perturbation had begun to seep beneath his calm, cool, mien. His hand shook as he rubbed her back hoping her coughing fit might free her off the anxiety and discomfort that had overtaken her. 

She can remember almost every time Jake Seresin has touched her. The memories float suspended in golden warmth, kept safe from the things theyve done, and the things they’ve seen. She holds those moments of fleeting, passing goodness, near to her heart. The smallest reminders that Hangman has a heart; and it’s full of love to give, and on some occasions, she has allowed herself to believe she could be worthy of that love. 

He used to sit beside her in the mess hall no matter how many seats were available; his broad shoulders bumping her own, his elbow knocking at her ribs, their hands brushing as he slid his mashed potatoes onto her plate and she slid her green beans onto his. Silent and symbiotic in their bond, determined to look out for one another. 

The first New Year's Eve they were able to spend together off base was spent with as many friends as possible and too much liquor to handle. Neither of them got a midnight kiss because she was spilling her guts in the alleyway behind the bar, Jake by her side saying “I told you not to do shots after drinking a glass of wine”.  But his satisfied smirk was overshadowed by the genuine concern in his eyes and the steady warm hand he'd placed on her back. “There you go, you'll feel better once you get it all out”. He was drunk himself, his words half slurred but no less encouraging. She had thought then that he was seeing her at her worst. She knows now that she was wrong. 

By some miracle they had been deployed together more often than not. At first it was pure coincidence, but over time it became clear that together they were a dynamic duo with a combined force and efficiency they're commanding officers could not deny, and were often interested in capitalizing on. They had become two halves of a whole, a packaged pair anyone would be disinclined to separate. Still, they had not been permitted to bunk together, and neither of them had ever been interested in breaking the rules of the institution so they never pushed it. But on nights when the creaks and groans of the 900,000 pound ship kept her awake, and the rocking of the waves around them was too much to ignore she knew she'd be able to find him lurking around the corridors as well.

 “I couldn't sleep,” she'd say. “Me neither,” he'd respond. Sometimes, when the world felt too heavy on his shoulders and they'd been away from home for too long they'd find their way to the floor together, his back pressed to hers, their arms circling their knees, and he'd sync his breathing to hers convincing himself that so long as she was their he had some piece of his real life with him. A part of Jake Seresin that wasn't just a pawn in battles bigger than him, he was a man with thoughts and feelings, and dreams outside of his role worth achieving. 

---

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

The parachute that isn't being used to block the wind is still draped over the two of them and she hopes it keeps Jake warm until he wakes. His walk to the base will take him longer now dragging her weight behind him, he'll need his sleep. 

She lets the sound of the wind lull her and she finds that she's not afraid anymore. Just sad; angry even; but not afraid. Her pain is excruciating, and she’s honestly welcoming the relief of a permanent slumber. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The wind gusts come steadily, growing louder and ever closer. 

Jake stirs beneath her, sitting up her head falling to his lap. “Well would you look at that! No more walking for us,” he grins. Her eyes have shut but she can hear it in his voice, the boy like wonder bursting  the surface. “Angel, wake up,” he shakes her shoulder. The joy that had filled him moments ago has been replaced with a more serious tone, “they sent a chopper for us, honey,” he says, shaking her again, “you've gotta get up,” he pleads with her, but she cannot answer him. His hand is surprisingly warm on the side of her face, and the world goes dark and silent. 

Death is softer than she expected. It's dark still, but her head is resting on something plush, and there's a feel of woven fabric at her fingertips, it reminds her of the blanket Jake's mom had sent to her last Christmas. Her back and her legs feel stiff and she makes no attempt to move them uninterested in exploring this darken world she's found herself in. Her ribs ache but far less than they did back in the snow, the pinch she feels with each breath is like an echoed sound, a pallid reminder of her last moments. 

There's a humming; a mellifluous tune. It drifts in and out, bookended by murmuring she cannot decipher. Come back to me. The words become clear. Angel. Guilt fills her, petulant and helpless as emotion overwhelms her. She wants to move towards the voice, to apologize for leaving but she's not sure she can. I need you honey. 

Jake. Oh, it's so clear now. Jake. 

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” Jake's hands brace her shoulder, and just above her knee willing her to stop flailing her panicked limbs. Her eyes shoot open to meet his; golden green and brimming with tears she wishes she had the strength to stop. The insistent beeping that had filled the room quiets as she relaxes back into the pillows. 

The Navy infirmary isn't anything fancy, but it's far more comfortable than the nights she spent with her back up against the bark of a tree. She has so many questions but they fade out of her mind as quickly as they spark in. Blips of clarity overriden by the need to speak to Jake who is looking at her with more wonder than she's even seen. The man has seen the world from 40,000 feet but he's looking at her like she hung his stars in the sky. 

“Jake,” she manages. 

“Yeah, Angel”. 

Her throat feels like sandpaper, her voice scratchy and raw with disuse, but she fights through it, 

“I'm in love with you,” she says, sucking in a breath that makes her cough. Her lungs feel like they're on fire and she works desperately to inhale and exhale as the ache in her side is reawaken. 

Jake offers her water that manages to swallow down, and when she takes a few shaky breaths without wincing, he sets the paper cup aside. 

She gives him a gentle nod, refusing to meet his gaze. He doesn't let it slide, his forefinger tilting her chin up so she can't hide from him. She envies his confidence, his ability to simplify a scenario. 

You listened with rapt attention as she wove stories into the air, just as she wove and embroidered the tapestries that hung the halls of the palace you called home. You watched as your mother, the queen, walked the halls with her head held high and each step taken in grace. You’d heard whispers from the courtesans and servants that your mother was a nymph from the sea past the cliffs who’d fallen in love with your father. She left her home in the sea to live by his side, a noble queen for a powerful kingdom.

Once, you had believed in love. You watched the soft gazes your mother gave your father, the way the crinkles around his eyes would smooth as his eyes landed on her, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You watched as they danced, laughter echoing the room as they gazed adoringly at each other, seemingly unaware of those around them. You dreamed of a love like that, of what your future love would look like. Would your husband be handsome? Strong? Would he look to you for guidance as your father did with your mother?

Once, you believed in happy endings. Your mother spoke of the great heroes who conquered the reigning evil, the monsters falling where the hero’s sword pierced their heart. She spoke of the women who aided the hero in his quest, reminding you that without the knowledge of women, the hero was doomed to fail.

“It’s their strength,” your mother had said one day, “that keeps a kingdom from falling apart during hard times and a people humble during the good.”

You stared at her with curious eyes, not quite understanding her meaning. She smiled at you, and you took a step towards her, stopping as the room began to spin. Your mother let out a shocked cry, lurching to catch you as you fell. Her hand felt cool as it cradled your face, and you let out a quiet whimper as she instructed her lady-in-waiting to fetch a doctor.

You don’t remember how long you were sick for, but it felt like years as the fever ravaged your tiny body, your muscles aching as your lungs struggled with each breath. Through it all, your mother never left your side, her worried eyes never letting you out of her sight as she held you in her arms. You vaguely remember your father coming and going, hushed whispers exchanged with your mother as his own worry seemed to age him. You awoke one day, fever having broken, to the rays of sun brushing against your face. Your sickness seemingly cured, your nursemaids called after you as you raced down the halls to find your mother, but it was too late. Your mother was buried only days later, on a hill overlooking the sea from which she had come.

Your father’s eyes seemed dull after that, often staring at nothing as he lost himself in thought. It was a while before he smiled again, and even then it never quite met his eyes. You did your best as his only child, throwing yourself into your studies once you were old enough to understand what was expected—no, needed—of you. You learned the art of diplomacy, studied law and battle strategy, all while learning how to conduct yourself as a proper lady within court. Your father’s courtiers and advisors insisted you reside yourself to playing the part of the helpless princess, doomed to be married off to the highest bidder or whomever would make the most advantageous match.

“You must think of the man that will replace you, my king,” Aldred, one of the oldest advisors, had murmured to him one day. You had been walking past the throne room when you heard their conversation, and it had made your blood boil. Why should a man sit upon your father’s throne? You were his blood, his only child and heir. You were more than capable of ruling the kingdom as his daughter. It wasn’t right, and you would make them see that. You didn’t need to sell yourself to the nearest man in order for the kingdom to remain great and prosperous, no.

Once, you had believed the stories. Once, you had believed in love. Once, you had believed in happy endings. Now, you were grown, and you would carve your own path. One that did not require you to submit.

“Oh, well, I was just coming home from a ride on Blue when the rain came pouring down, so–” 

“So what you’re saying is that you just came in here seeking shelter from the rain?” a smirk dazzled his features, “out of every shed and every other barn you passed on your way back to the house, you conveniently chose this one which I just so happen to still be in from when you poked your head in earlier,” his gaze briefly dipped down to your soaked through, and now sheer, t-shirt.

“Hm,” you hummed through your smile, “yeah, that really is convenient,” neither denying nor affirming his accusation as you then teasingly twisted away from the close proximity his slow stride had created.

Catching the ladder that led up to the open hayloft, you slowly began to climb it. 

“Just what are you doing now?” you heard from behind you. 

“You said you were working,” you glanced over your shoulder, successfully catching Tyler staring at your ass through your jean shorts, “so I’m getting out of your hair.” 

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

“That’s right,” you reached the top and plopped yourself down on the planks, “I’m kind that way. So now, just go back to whatever you were doing, lifting heavy things or whatever,” you waved a vague hand down at him in hopes that he would put on a show for you and let you ogle the way his muscles flexed beneath his tight shirt. 

But he didn’t pick the pitchfork back up. 

Instead, he simply blew out a soft chuckle, gazing up at you as a light shake found his head, staring up at your drenched visage just a moment longer before he began to climb the ladder as well. 

A giggle rolled off your tongue as he reached the top, a gentle sound that he then swiftly smothered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, still balanced on the ladder, clutching onto the sides as he reached you, sitting cross-legged on the floor before him. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” 

“Me?” you tilted your lips out of his reach, “I am an angel. I’ve never done anything wrong in my life,” a grin accompanied your jest. 

As he climbed the rest of the way up onto the loft, you didn’t shift away to make room for him, only leaned back on your forearms as he blissfully crawled to settle above you. 

When you raised yourself up to kiss him once more, you only got to taste him for but a moment, only shyly managing to sink your fingers into the hem of his shirt, before he denied you of any more. 

“I swear to god, it’s like you want your daddy to catch us with the way you keep throwing yourself at me.”

Letting out a light-hearted scoff, you said, “excuse me? First of all, it’s raining and even if it wasn’t, he’s not coming down here, not this time of day, and second of all, talk about yourself, sir,” you hooked your legs up and over the small of his back, “you’re the one always stealing kisses from me even when you know he’s around,” you counted, “oh, also that one time in the tool shed? It doesn’t matter that you covered my mouth, he for sure knew something was going on in there,” Tyler’s smile only brightened at the recollection, “and don’t even get me started on the way you’re always looking at me.”

“How do I look at you?” 

“You know how…” you laughed, melting under his gaze, “you’re doing it right now.” 

“Oh, am I?” he acted as if it wasn’t completely on purpose how his eyes undressed you, “I’m sorry, I hadn’t noticed.” 

Leaning down to capture your lips once more, a light squeak then escaped your lungs as he suddenly rolled over onto his back, onto a low pile of loose hay, dragging you along with him.

But as your body rested atop his, completely plastered against one another as his broad hands took their time raking down your curves, a soft chuckle rumbled in his chest and vibrated against your tongue. 

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking wet,” he laughed, playfully giving the drenched denim clinging to your ass a swift tap. 

Pushing yourself up a bit more, you spotted the splotchy stamp you’d transferred all down Tyler’s front. 

“Yeah well, I was just caught in the rain, what do you want me to do?” 

“It really did get you good, didn’t it?” you felt his hands shift and nimbly undo your shorts.

“Mhm,” you nodded, blinking down at him as he yanked your soaked shorts down and tossed them off to the side, onto a hay bale. 

“You mind if I check something real quick?” he playfully asked, scooping his grasp down to curve securely around the plush of your bottom. 

“Not at all,” you smiled before a sharp yelp then suddenly erupted out of you.

Tyler knew he could toss you around like a ragdoll, a skill of his he wasn’t at all shy to lean into, especially now as he yanked you closer, all the way up his frame till he settled you just above his face.

“Tyler!” you laughed, squirming lightly as he pulled you further down against him, letting his nose nuzzle against the sliver of your underwear before he placed a sloppy kiss against them. 

With his wide palms still glued to your butt, a few of his fingers stretched out to catch the hem of your panties and tug them to the side, granting himself the full access he desired. 

As he began to eagerly lap you up, he briefly murmured against you, “yeah, you really are completely soaked,” conjuring a hazy laugh to rip through you as your head tipped back at the pleasure. 

Teasing your little clit till your thighs began to shake on either side of his face, you felt his hands briefly migrate up your back and guide you to collapse entirely above him, bending you forward and letting your forearms land in a soft pile of hay for support. 

His strong arms then scooped back down to your ass, blanketing them around your hips as he brought you even closer to him, evidently not that desperate to let himself breathe any time soon as your all-consuming presence above him was the one and only thing he desired. 

With the way that he devoured you whole, not long passed till you were cumming all over his face, whimpering and trembling against his unyielding efforts. You barely let yourself catch your breath before you crawled back down his form, lazily kissing the taste of you off of his tongue as you worked at freeing his hard cock that strained in his jeans.

Your frame stayed plastered against his own after you sank down upon him, your tits in the soaked shirt smooshing against his chest. With your panties still clinging just off to the side of your cunt, you only let yourself shutter at the stretch a shy second before your trembly thighs raised you back up to find a slow rhythm.

“Fuck…” he groaned, tilting away from the breathless kiss, “ride that cock–, shit, you’re so good,” he nearly hissed at the way you rolled your hips, your silky walls clinging around his girth, “that’s my girl.” 

“Yeah, well I partly blame you for finally explaining to me how exactly it is you ride those crazy bulls,” you spoke about his daring side gig, “how you stay on, tame them.”

“Yeah,” an airy chuckle slipped out of his lungs, “you might just give me a run for my money if I ever get you up on a real one.” 

“I thought that’s what I was doing now,” you smirked down at him as you rocked your hips even further down against his, grinding the length of him dizzyingly deep inside of your pussy. The comment however also earned you a slap across the ass, causing the laugh hiding just behind your lips to finally break free, “hey, I’m not wrong, you are an animal!”

Burying one of his hands into your hair, he uttered against your lips, “well, if I’m an animal, then you’re one too,” nearly growling as he held you close and let himself buck up into you, meeting your slow bouncing halfway, “we’re cut from the same cloth you and me.”

“Yeah,” you moaned, digging your weak hands into his shirt and surely stretching the cotton out, “you and me…”

Tilting your head just far enough back so that he could catch sight of how your eyes began to roll in your skull, he groaned, “fuck, you’re so beautiful… so fucking perfect and warm, tight, fucking squeezing around me so good, and so fucking wet…” a chuckle slipped out of you both at the double entendre, “you messy girl… my messy little fucking girl… you’ll never get to dry off if I have a say in the matter… let you stay just completely soaked for fucking ever and make it so easy for me to just do anything I want…”

“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”

“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”

Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 

“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”

Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”

Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”

“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 

“See you ride.”

Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”

“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”

A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”

“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 

“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”

You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.

“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 

Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 

“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 

“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”

“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 

A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”

“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”

“It is if it could get you killed.” 

“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 

Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 

“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 

Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 

Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”

His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”

“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.

“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 

As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.

“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 

Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 

As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 

However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 

“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 

“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 

Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 

A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  

Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 

As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.

It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 

Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 

To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 

Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 

“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”

And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.

“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”

His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.

But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.

His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 

“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 

“You knew?”

“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”

“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”

“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 

“Wait, seriously?”

“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”

The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 

“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”

Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 

“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.

“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”

“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 

“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 

“P-please–”

“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.

A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 

As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”

Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”

“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”

When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”

Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 

“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”

“Please fuck me–”

“What was that?”

“F-fuck me–”

“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 

“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 

Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 

He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 

You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 

“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”

But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.

“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 

When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 

So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 

Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 

It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.

By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 

“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 

“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”

“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 

He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 

“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”

“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 

“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 

“How?”

“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”

You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”

Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 

“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.

Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”

As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 

“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 

His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 

A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 

“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”

“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”

A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.

But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”

| Jake’s Family

Taglist Form

One — Introducing the small town of Driftwood, TX, on a Sunday morning in 1974. Spilling into that important evening in February 1991. Driftwood, Texas.

Two — The start of it all. That night. Six weeks later, the first night of Jake’s tour. Driftwood, TX / New Mexico.

Three — Pregnancy isn’t at all what you had thought it would be. New Mexico / Colorado.

Four — Your mind is made up. Jake has a lot of thoughts about that. Colorado.

*More to follow*

“Are you ready to start?” Six asks you, taking a seat in the plush gray chair. You shift your weight from foot to foot, nervously twisting your hands together. He watches you calmly, gaze steady but not oppressive. You glance briefly at the door behind you and then back to him. “If you’re not ready, that’s okay,” he encourages. "We can talk more."

You’re anxious, but you want this. “I’m ready,” you tell him with a firm nod.

He smiles. “That’s good, come here.” You hesitantly make your way towards him, coming to stop between his legs. He tilts his head back to meet your gaze, staring at you for a long moment before you have to blink and look away. “That was good,” he praises. “I know eye contact is hard for you.”

You feel silly, drawing inward on yourself until his large hand comes to rest on your hip. That brings your attention back to him. His thumb drags back and forth over the soft flesh there, soothing you.

“Do you see the pillow on the floor?” He asks, pointing to the circular, pale blue pillow in front of your feet. “I want you to kneel on that. Can you get on your knees for me? ”

You nod and he clicks his tongue, reminding you of one of his first rules. Always speak when spoken to. “Yes,” you respond, slowly sinking to your knees between his long legs. Once you're settled you look up at him.

“We’ll start small. You can keep me company while I read,” he tells you. Your brows furrow, unsure what he means until he taps his thick thigh. “Rest your head here.”

Heat floods your face, a mix of shame and desire spreading through your limbs as you fall back on your heels and lay your cheek on his thigh. You look up at him and he smiles, dusty pink lips pulling up under his dark goatee. He strokes your hair, fingertips ghosting down to your jaw.

“Good girl,” he praises softly, lifting the book in his other hand.

You’re thankful for the pillow but even with it, the position is new to you and a little uncomfortable. You shift, leaning more of your weight against him. Six continues to stroke your head and face as he reads aloud, his low voice comforting. After a while you stop listening to the words, just the tenor and rhythm of his voice, letting them lull you into a soft, hazy state. You breathe out, shoulders dropping and tension leaves your body slowly the more time passes.