#how to use 1 acres of land | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stargirlygirl · 19 days ago

Text

no, you can't buy my ranch

rancher!sylus x spoiled!city girl!reader

⭑.ᐟ part two: how do you do it?

summary: in your frustration, you go and visit sylus and ask him how he runs his ranch

contains: swearing, hurt comfort, sylus fat ass appreciation, 3k works

A BIG THANK YOU to @tragicvictoriantears for all of her legal advice in the comment section of part one. literally incredible research and an excellent explanation, you should check out her comments for insight into how taxation changes with different types of properties. i'm thinking of running with a blend of adverse possession and wishful thinking for our successful businessman here.

“Argh! How fucking long is this going to take?” You shout into the humid air settling across the green shrubbery. Whipping out your phone, you check the time.

“Two hours?!” You shriek. Shoving the device back in your jeans, you pull at your roots.

For the past two hours, you’ve been lawn mowing. You might be thinking, how is it possible to mow the lawn for two hours? There can’t be that much lawn to mow, right?

Wrong.

Your father purchased a very roomy block of land, and he cancelled his subscription to a landscaping service after the last tenants evacuated the property. This means the acres were severely overgrown by the time you moved in.

It’s only been one week staying in this fuck ass charming small town and your archaic dreamy ranch house, and you’re about to have a mental break down. You’ve only mowed one of the fifty acres of your property with your good ol’ push mower. 1 out of 50!

You can’t do this anymore.

Leaving the mower running in the middle of the field, you stomp back to your house. Up the porch steps, you push the door open with both hands, sending it clanking into the wall as you beeline to the kitchen.

Pouring yourself a glass of cold water, you gulp it down while sweat rolls down your dirty forehead and neck. You sigh, slamming the cup on the bench and wiping your brow. Slumping against the countertop, you think about how you’re going to handle this.

You could call up your father to reinstate the landscaping service, but part of the rental payments had been paying for it. The last tenants lived here around two years ago, and the vegetation had been left untamed. Now that you’re living here, free of charge, you can’t expect him to foot the ridiculously expensive bill for gardening when you could just do it yourself, or whatever.

You could mow one acre of the lawn each day for the next 50 days. Not bad, but by the time you finish, you’ll have to mow the first acre again because the grass will have already gotten out of control again.

You could give it a rest for today and pick things back up tomorrow, in the hopes that you’ll somehow mow the other 49 acres during daylight hours.

In the midday light, a red glint catches your eye. Striding over to it, you pick up the business card you had left in your fruit bowl days ago.

“Sylus Qin,” you mumble, reading his name on one side. Flipping it over, you type his address into Maps on your phone. Enlarging the lay of the land, you realise that he lives in the next street over. Huffing, you darken your phone screen and make your way upstairs, intent on getting ready to pay a certain someone a visit.

…˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚…

Shutting off your ignition, you hop out of your rust bucket. Your low heels sink into the grass, and you groan internally about how ruined they’re gonna be when you get home. Shimmying down your pencil skirt and adjusting your blouse, you head to the huge ranch house at the front of the property.

If you thought your little place was big (you’re used to shoebox apartments), then this is fucking grand. It’s like the house has been dipped in dark mahogany; it’s moody yet refined. Your heels clack against the wide steps up to the porch. Every detail is exquisite, from the embossed door knob to the hanging lights to the quiet luxury chairs out front. Not to mention the huge windows you’re positive someone is staring at you through as your fist raps against one of the double doors.

Within moments, the doors swing open, revealing two of the same boyish ranch hands greeting you.

“Miss L/n, our boss has been expecting you,” the one on the left remarks.

The right one continues, “Please—”

“Follow us,” they say in unison while gesturing inside. With a fake smile, you nod politely and step past the threshold.

Somehow, the house’s interior is even more magnificent than its exterior. You quickly notice the dark colour scheme of the decor, burgundy, black, and deep browns, mixed with fur rugs and leather finishings.

The twins lead you to the back of the ranch house before guiding you outside and to the stables. Stepping in, the overwhelming scent of livestock curls up your nostrils. You cough into your palm, stifled by the various beef cattle glaring at you. Towards the back stands Sylus, intimidating as ever in his maroon button-up and dark-wash jeans, barking out orders to his subordinates.

They scurry off like beetles as you approach. Sensing you behind him, the ranch overlord pivots around and gazes down at you with those piercing eyes. Your breath catches, and you unconsciously clench and unclench your increasingly sweaty palms.

He smirks, “Already seeking me out, kitten.” You sigh, berating yourself for stooping low enough to come and see him in your desperation.

“I’m not selling my ranch to you just yet, Sylus,” you mutter. He hums, revelling in hearing his name from your lips. The fact that you even thought about visiting him has excitement tingling in every inch of his body. Not that he’d ever admit it.

Clearing his throat, Sylus orders Luke and Kieran (as you learn to be their names) to take care of the ranch while you two talk business. With a large hand on your mid-back, he leads you back to his exquisite home and into his office.

Indicating to the plush chair opposite his opulent desk, he instructs, “Take a seat.” You obey, sitting down and crossing your legs all demure.

As he assumes his place opposite you, elbows on his desk and slender fingers intertwined, he drawls, “Well?” You breathe in deeply, feeling the cool air swirling in the bottom of your lungs to prepare yourself for what you’re about to say. Guilt gnaws at your stomach lining and makes the bile churn. Is this wrong? You ask yourself.

You press on, “I’m not here to discuss pricing with you.”

He chuckles dollar signs, “What a shame, kitten.” Silence pervades the distance between you as you glance around, feigning interest in his trinkets when nothing could be more captivating than the man in front of you.

“I want to know,” you start, leaning forward slightly.

Lowering your voice, you continue, “How do you manage all of this?” Your finger points from side to side, and for a moment, Sylus thought you were referring to him.

Raising a brow, he clarifies, “Manage what, sweetie?”

“Your ranch,” you murmur. Ah, that sounds about right, he thinks.

Grinning all handsome, he corrects you, “Ranches.”

Shifting back, you scoff, “Yea, yea, whatever. Your ranches. How do you keep them in order?”

His smirk widens, “Having some trouble in paradise, kitten?”

You scowl at him, “Oh, just shut up! I get it, you’re a successful businessman with an inflated ego.” Rolling your eyes, you slump in the stupidly comfortable chair. The cushions are so soft and mould to your body perfectly. And the details on the trim are to die for.

For a few moments, you two stare at each other, your gaze heated while his remains cocky.

Finally, you sigh, “I’m not asking for your trade secrets, okay? But, I get it if you don’t want to help me.” Breaking eye contact, you glance down at your roughed-up hands resting in your lap. Petrol and grass cuttings are still lodged beneath your fingernails, and there are little tears on your palms from fighting with the mower.

After a moment of deliberation, Sylus offers, “I could teach you a thing or two, if you’d like?”

Gazing up, your eyes are the size of saucers. You stutter in disbelief, “R-really?” He nods haughtily.

“So tell me, what’s the issue? You asked about management,” he drawls.

You hum in agreement and ask, “How do you keep up with everything? Like maintenance-wise? Obviously, I don’t have any livestock. But like the mowing? And the house?”

He smirks, “You want to know about landscaping and house cleaning?”

“Well,” you pout. “When you put it like that…” You trail off, your voice quietening until no sound passes out your lips.

Clearing his throat, Sylus responds, “I outsource those tasks, sweetie.”

“Oh,” you mumble. Right, of course. That was so fucking obvious, you scold yourself.

“Another reason why you should sell your land to me,” he mocks.

Leaning forward, the rancher continues, “You’re not made for this lifestyle.”

“Hey,” you mutter indignantly, but it sounds like a kitten hissing rather than a fiery roar.

He says sardonically, “City folk, such as yourself, aren’t built for this. So why don’t you give up now? It would save you much trouble.” His words sting in a way they shouldn’t. He’s telling you what you’ve been telling yourself, all week and for the past month, preparing for your move.

All of this complaining about the inconveniences of life here masks that feeling buried within: you’re not capable enough to handle life here. It’s different; an unknown way of living. You hate it for how incompetent it makes you feel. And right now, you kinda hate him for bringing that to light.

Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, you retort, “Desperate much? You really want my property, don’t you?” But it comes out mellowed.

Sylus grins, “Yes, I do. You’re wasting its potential.” You stand up in a flurry of chest pangs and prickling tears.

“Forget it. Forget that I ever tried talking to you. How fucking stupid was that?” You murmur dismissively while striding to the door. Grabbing the brass knob, you try and turn it, but it won’t budge. Drawing back, you notice a keyhole in the centre. All of this stress and pent-up anger is bubbling to the surface, spilling over as you pull on the door knob like it’ll magically open.

Whipping around, you choke out with cloudy eyes, “You-you locked it?!” Sylus stares at you like you’ve grown a second head, perplexed by your sudden emotional outburst. You’ve always been a bit of a crybaby, which definitely doesn’t help at a time like this.

Rising from his desk, he saunters over to you. Placing one hand on the door frame, he leans over you.

“Desperate much?” He remarks, throwing your words back at you as the door rattles from your furious attempts to leave.

Turning around, you shove at his firm chest while sobbing, “J-just let me o-out! Please!”

He shakes his head while countering, “I can’t do that, kitten.” Crying harder, you hit his pec with your fist, hard. But he doesn’t even flinch. If anything, he liked that.

“Want to take your frustration out on me?” Sylus teases while grabbing your fist.

He places it over his heart and urges you to, “Go on, then. I won’t stop you.” You shake your head, hair catching on your tears streaming down your cheeks. Your fist softens against his fitted button-up; his heartbeat is steady beneath your palm. It’s calming, feeling the rhythmic thump against your clammy hand. You know you shouldn’t, but right now, you don’t care about crossing his personal space boundaries. He crossed yours first, you reason.

Your head tilts forward, forehead hitting his muscles while his shirt bunches between your fingers as you grip it tightly. And now it’s Sylus’s turn to be surprised. He goes rigid while glancing down at you with a million thoughts running through his mind. He’s momentarily unable to comprehend whether this was real. Whether you’re really crying into him. Had he gone too far? Clearly. To him, you were still playing, even if you were becoming increasingly upset.

But this? He didn’t know how to handle this.

He embraces you tightly, one hand encasing the back of your head while the other rubs your back soothingly. This is what he should be doing, right? Holding you as you fall apart in his arms.

Sylus coos, “So emotional, kitten.”

You mumble into his chest, “S-shut up.”

Time elapses as you stand there, releasing all of your worries and pains into a man who only cares about purchasing your property. He doesn’t say anything further, your wails alongside his breathing the only sounds reverberating throughout the office. Even with the sunlight streaming in, it’s characteristically dark. But you like it. It’s fitting for wallowing in your sadness.

You ramble through your cries, “Y-you think I don’t-I don’t belong here. I-I know that! I k-know, b-but I don’t hav-have a choice.” Sylus doesn’t respond, but his grip tightens slightly as a fresh wave of sobs rips through you.

Eventually, you calm down into sniffling. Lifting your head, you’re met with his tender gaze. Far too tender for your current relationship. His thumb comes to stroke your cheek, wiping away the tears staining your under eyes. Instinctually, you lean into his delicate touch, not caring if you shouldn’t be doing this. He’s the one who upset you in the first place, so it’s his responsibility to make it better, right?

Sylus teases, “All out of tears, sweetie?” You nod, regardless of whether his question was rhetorical.

“Can-can you p-please let me o-out now?” You murmur. He smirks and draws back, raising his arms to the side in surrender. You stare at him with a creased brow as you rub your nose.

He chuckles, “If you want to leave, then you’ll have to acquire the key.” Gesturing to his body, you blink dumbly. He doesn’t mean—

“You wan-want me t-to search you?!”

Sylus nods, “That’s right, kitten.”

You sigh while stepping closer to him, your hands flying back to his chest, “N-no more game-games, okay?” The silver-haired man grabs your wrist and traces your fingers along the buttons of his now ruined shirt. You can make out little mascara stains and your blush against the deep red.

“S-sorry,” you mumble, your hand now guided up to his neck.

Sylus asks confused, “For what, sweetie?” Your fingertips ghost his Adam’s apple. Gazing at your hands, you realise how much bigger his are. And veiny, too. It’s criminal.

“I, uh, stained your sh-shirt,” you sputter.

He shrugs, “Do you think I don’t own others?”

“N-no!” You blurt out as he makes you caress his collarbones.

“Then you have nothing to apologise for,” he says resolutely.

“Now,” the rancher continues. “You’re not very good at this little scavenger hunt. Do you need a hint?” You hum softly in agreement.

“Alright,” he grins. Moving your hand back down his body, he stops around his navel and lets go of you.

Sylus says confidently, “You’ll have to go lower.” At his words, heat flares in your cheeks, and suddenly, you realise that you’re not sniffling anymore. Locking eyes, you search for a sign of approval in his. They slightly narrow, and he tilts his head, prompting you to explore.

Inhaling, you trail your fingers down to his belt, never looking away.

You ask, “Is it here?”

He grins, “You’re getting warmer.” To which you’re puzzled if he meant your tomato-red face or if you’re nearing the key’s location. Praying it’s the latter, you slide your hand to the side and down. Wriggling into his front jean pockets, you dig around, searching for the key. Nothing on this side. Trying the other, you come up empty-handed.

You pout, “You said I was getting warmer.”

Sylus agrees cockily, “I did.”

“So where is it?” You ask, perturbed.

He chuckles shortly, “Did you search all of my pockets?” Oh.

You glare at him, “You just want me to feel you up, don’t you?” The rancher tips his head to the side, grinning even more arrogantly.

“I want you to learn the importance of working for what you want.”

You scoff, “Trust me, I already know that.” Wrapping your arms around his breedable hips, you slip your hands into his back pockets. Damn, that booty. You feel a twang of pain in your chest from how sumptuous it is. Bet he just did a few squats and this was his reward.

“Being a rancher isn’t easy, kitten. It’s a demanding job and can be difficult to make a living from. That’s why you have to be strategic with how you spend your time,” Sylus continues. The key is in his left pocket. Curling your fingers around the hot metal, you retrieve it.

Leaning down, he rasps into your ear, “You’re a clever girl, sweetie. Don’t mock me by wasting what I could capitalise on.” Pulling back, you stare at him with your heart pounding so loudly in your chest, you’re certain he’s counting the beats.

“Thanks,” you mumble. Giving him a curt nod, you turn around and slide the key into the lock. The door opens easily. You don’t wait for him to see you out. No, you sprint from his office immediately, not turning around as he calls your name. Bolting out of his ranch house, you’re panting as you haphazardly start your engine and pull out onto the dirt road.

Your thoughts are a blur. Whatever the fuck just happened replays over and over in your mind like a broken tape. You can still feel the warmth his body against yours, that 50-pound ass in your hands☹️. You’re unsure of how you made it back to your house in one piece. But it doesn’t matter.

You just sit there, in your car with the exhaust pipe wheezing, stunned. No words, no course of action spring forth. It’s like Sylus’s touch and teasing have rewired your brain. And for some silly reason, you’re smiling all goofy when you think of his arms around you and his lips near your ear. Those kissable, pink lips.

Sighing, you step out and gaze at your property. You grumble upon seeing your one acre of mowed grass while making it up the steps and into your house.

That night, Sylus’s pep talk interrupts your every thought. You’re a clever girl, sweetie. Don’t mock me by wasting what I could capitalise on. Maybe— just maybe— you’ll take his advice.

story masterlist

full masterlist

taglist - @stxrrielle, @peachystea, @harbingers-lullaby, @grlyeetswrld, @multisstuff, @heartyluv, @cuntphoric-main

#★’s works #love and deepspace #sylus qin #lads sylus #sylus x reader #cowboy sylus #lnds sylus #sylus hurt/comfort

177 notes · View notes

batboyblog · 10 months ago

Text

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #33

Sep 6-13 2024

President Biden marked the 30th anniversary of the passage of the Violence Against Women Act and highlighted efforts to stop gender based violence. the VAWA was written by then Senator Biden and he often talks about it as his proudest legislative victory. The act transformed how the federal government dealt with domestic violence, sexual assault, and stalking. In part because of the connection to Joe Biden, President Trump and the Republicans allowed the VAWA to expire in 2019. President Biden passed a new reauthorization, with new protections for women against cyber crime, in 2022. On the VAWA's 30th anniversary President Biden announced $690 million in grants to support survivors of gender-based violence.

President Biden and Vice-President Harris announced a new rule to force insurance companies to treat mental health care the same as medical care. The new rule takes on the use by insurance of restrictive practices like prior authorization, and out of network charges, it also closes a loophole in the law that allowed state and local government health insurance not to cover mental health.

The Biden-Harris administration announced that 50 million Americans, 1 in every 7, have gotten health insurance through Obamacare's marketplaces. Under Biden a record breaking 20.8 million enrolled this year. Since the ACA was passed by President Obama and then Vice-President Biden it has transformed American health care bring affordable coverage to millions and getting rid of "preexisting conditions". During the Presidential debate Vice-President Harris defended the ACA and the need to keep building on it. Trump after 9 years of calling for its repeal said he only had "concepts of a plan" on what to do about health care in America.

The IRS announced that it has recovered $1.3 billion in back taxes from wealthy tax dodgers. For years Republicans have tried to underfund the IRS hindering its ability to police high income tax payers. President Biden in his Inflation Reduction Act ensured that the IRS would have the money it needs to chase high income tax cheats. In February 2024 the IRS launched a program to go after over 100,000 people, making $400,000 or even over $1 million a year who have not filed taxes since 2017. The IRS also launched a program to collect from tax payers who make over $1 million a year who have uncontested debt of over $250,000. Between these two efforts the IRS has collected over a Billion Dollars in back taxes from the richest Americans, so far this year.

The Department of The Interior and White House Climate Advisor Ali Zaidi highlighted green energy efforts on public land. Highlighting two projects planned in Nevada officials talked about the 41 renewable energy projects approved on public land under the Biden-Harris Administration. These projects over 25 gigawatts of clean energy, a goal the Administration's climate plan set for the end of 2025 but met early this year. With the new projects in Nevada this is enough energy to power 12.5 million homes, and the Bureau of Land Management is another 55 utility-scale project proposals across the West.

The Department of The Interior announced $236 million to help fight forest fires and restore landscapes damaged by recent wildfires. Under President Biden's Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, the Administration has spent nearly $1.1 billion dollars to combat deadly wildfires which have over the last 10 years grown in size and intensity thanks to climate change.

The Department of The Interior announced $157 million in wetland conservation. The money is focused on protecting bird habitats. It will protect and preserve thousands of acres of wetlands across 7 states.

The US Senate approved President Biden's nominations of Adam Abelson, Jeannette Vargas, Mary Kay Lanthier, and Laura Provinzino to federal judgeships in Maryland, New York, Vermont, and Minnesota respectively. This brings the total number of federal judges appointed by President Biden to 209. When Biden entered office 318 district judges were Republican appointees and 317 Democratic, today 368 are Democratic appointments and just 267 are Republican. President Biden is the first President in history to have the majority of his appointments not be white men and he has appointed more black women to the bench than any President ever.

#Joe Biden #Thanks Biden #kamala harris #politics #political #US politics #American politics #climate change #domestic violent relationships #mental health #health care #health insurance #tax the rich #judges

792 notes · View notes

wandascrush · 17 days ago

Text

Lonely Rider

Pairing: Cowboy!Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: husband mentioned, loneliness, boredom, blood, gunshot wound, old western type of sexism

Summary: Set in the early 1900’s, another boring day on the ranch brings an unexpected surprise- a wounded rider straight to your front door

Part 1 of this new series!

It was dawn, and the sun was already heating up your bedroom. The sound of the dog panting beside you pulled you from a restless sleep. You were hot, sticky, and miserable—alone on the ranch with another day of the same old chores ahead: sweeping. Tending the horses. Walking the acres. Sewing. Preserving food. Hanging laundry in the sun. Writing long letters to Mother, Father, and Lacey that you knew might take weeks to reach them.

That was how the hours passed—slow and quiet and aching with repetition. And oh, how they got lonely.

There were only so many times you could run around with the dog before boredom set in again. You were young, newly married, full of breath and want—and yet your husband was nowhere to be found. Off herding cattle down south, gone for at least four months, maybe longer.

You stepped outside with a tin cup of lukewarm coffee and your boots half-laced, the dog padding faithfully behind you. The familiar creak of the wooden door quietly closing behind you filled you with some comfort. The sun was higher now, casting long streaks of gold over the dry grass. Dust clung to everything—your hem, your hands, the valley of your breasts, the skin behind your neck where sweat had already started to gather. Sigh.

The grass in front of you stretched endlessly, sun-kissed and flowing with the wind. You decided to walk anyway, already knowing where it would lead. But at least it felt like you were going somewhere. The dog ran around, chasing his own tail before barking at a squirrel and flopping himself down on the grass. For the first time in days, you smiled.

God, you envied your husband. Out there somewhere, chasing cattle across hills and dry riverbeds. Sleeping under open skies. Living like a man in a storybook. You tried to picture him—wide-brimmed hat, calloused hands, silent and steady—but the image barely stirred anything in you. You often felt guilty, feeling so little for the man you were sworn to. You didn’t miss him. Not really.

Not the way his voice went flat when you spoke too long at dinner. Not the way his eyes never really saw you, just glanced over you like you were another part of the land—something useful, something owed. Not the way he took whatever he wanted from you, whenever. Was that love? You hoped not. Because when you looked at him you felt…so little.

There was too much blood in your veins, too much thrill waiting under your skin to just be a wife. A good one at that. You were certain of it. You looked up at the sky before falling backward, flopping yourself on the tall grass with a thud.

You were just about to turn back for a thrilling night of boiling potatoes- when the dogs ears perked up.

And so did yours.

In the distance, you could hear the thud of hoofs on the dirt as a dust cloud rose on the trail. You shaded your eyes with your hand, the sun bringing tears to your eyes.

Huh. Riders didn’t come by often, not without notice by letter at least. And especially not out here where the land stretched long and private.

You squinted, making out the color of a figure beautiful black horse, a figure on top, holding onto the reins loosely. They appeared through the dust, the rider still too fuzzy to fully make out.

A cowboy, you thought, how interestin’. That itch beneath your skin stirred. Maybe trouble. Maybe just a thirsty rider. You didn’t know, but wasn’t anything better than this?

And then—closer.

The rider yanked the reins hard, and the horse stumbled to a stop just yards from your gate. You stepped back, startled.

Then the bigger shock came: It wasn’t a man.

The hat came off with a rush of wind, revealing a mess of braided red hair stuck to a sweat-slicked face. A beautiful face at that. She looked down at you, breathless, wild-eyed—and then she swayed.

“Shit,” the woman whispered—so softly you only caught it by the shape of her full lips.

She tumbled out of the saddle like a rag doll, landing in the dirt with a thud that turned your stomach.

You picked up the hem of your dress and ran over.

She was bleeding. Her shirt was soaked, side torn up like she’d been shot clean through. Dirt clung to her palms as she tried pushing herself up.

Your hands hovered over her body, unsure where to touch. “Oh my,” you whispered, panic crawling into your throat. “Stay awake, c’mon—hey—”

She looked at you, really looked at you, and for a second something flickered there. Recognition? Relief?

And then her green eyes rolled back.

Her body went limp in your arms.

So much for a boring evening of boiling potatoes.

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff au

119 notes · View notes

jikookncity · 1 month ago

Text

ExBoyfriendFarmer!Johnny x Model!Reader (smut - rewritten)

WC: 5k, REALLY FILTHY, oral sex, raw sex, spitting, choking, slapping, barn sex, dirty talk, etc.

Y/N came to the country to escape.

One week alone. No cameras. No screaming stylists. No modelling. Just air, sky, silence.

The remote farmhouse Airbnb was supposed to be empty. She picked it because it sat on acres of untouched land and came with a barn for “atmosphere.” Rustic. Quiet.

What the listing didn’t mention was that the barn still belonged to the original owner’s grandson.

And that he lived next door.

And that he was Johnny Suh — her ex. Her filthy-mouthed, cocky, devastatingly good-in-bed ex who’d once made her come three times in the back of his pickup without even taking off her dress.

She hadn’t seen him in years.

But the moment she stepped onto the porch with her suitcase, he was already there. Shirtless. Sweaty. Smirking.

“Well, well, look what the city spat out.”

She stared. “You live here?”

He leaned against the porch rail, muscles on full display, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his low-hung jeans. “Barn’s mine now. So technically, you’re on my land.”

She turned to go back to the car.

“Aw, c’mon now,” he called lazily. “Don’t go. I’ve been real lonely out here. Ain’t got anyone to—” His eyes raked down her body. “—distract me lately.”

She turned around and glared at him. She didn't want him to know how badly he got under her skin. This was her stay that she already paid for and she was gonna follow through.

She walked past him into the house "my bags are in the car." Johnny held back a smirk. Still a brat and still stubborn. He was gonna make sure she had a hard time while she was here.

Day 1: The Breakfast Delivery

She opened the door to find him shirtless again — sweat glistening on his abs, jeans hanging low, and a damn egg carton in his hand.

“Figured you could use somethin’ fresh in your mouth,” Johnny said, tongue curling against his bottom lip.

Y/N blinked. “It’s 7 a.m.”

“Mornin’s the best time,” he said, stepping a little closer. “That’s when you used to be the neediest, remember? Used to wake up grindin’ on me like you couldn’t even wait to get my cock inside you.”

Her jaw dropped. “Johnny—!”

He grinned, unapologetic. “What? Just reminiscin’. Still got that whimper you used to make memorized. Sounded like you were beggin’ me to wreck you before you even opened your eyes.”

She snatched the eggs and slammed the door, heart pounding, thighs aching.

Day 2: The Horse Ride

She tried to hike the trail alone. Peace. Quiet.

Wrong.

He rode up slow and smug, straddling the horse bareback — white tank top and dark blue jeans — and tilted his head like a challenge.

“Dressed like that for me?” he asked, nodding to her shorts.

She didn’t answer.

He leaned down, boots nudging her pace. “Still don’t wear panties, huh? Easy access,” he murmured. “Not that you ever needed help. You used to hike your skirt up all on your own and beg me to fuck you in the back of the truck.”

Her mouth fell open. “Jesus—”

He laughed low. “Don’t act all innocent now. You remember the night you let me eat you out with your legs over the dash, don’t you?”

She nearly tripped.

“Had your heels diggin’ into the window while you screamed my name,” he added casually. “I licked you so good you nearly cried.”

“Johnny!”

“Just sayin’. Country air’s good for loosening you up. Maybe next time I see you out here, you’ll be wearin’ that sweet little sundress with no bra. Let those pretty tits bounce while you beg me to touch you again.”

She stormed off.

But she didn’t stop him from watching her ass the whole way back.

Day 3: The Porch

She was curled up with a book and a glass of wine, the sun setting gold behind the trees.

Johnny strolled up like he owned the damn horizon. Straw hat. Fitted white tee clinging to his chest. That cocky fucking walk.

“Thought about you last night,” he said as he leaned on the porch rail.

“Don’t,” she warned, setting down her glass.

“Too late. Got hard just rememberin’ how you used to gag yourself on my cock while beggin’ me to come down your throat.”

Her face burned. “Are you insane?”

He laughed, deep and dirty. “Nope. Just honest. You loved how nasty we got. The mess, the bruises, the way you’d look up at me with spit drippin’ down your chin and ask if you were my good little slut.”

She stared, stunned silent.

He leaned in, voice dropping. “You were filthy, baby. Don’t pretend you weren’t. You came on my tongue, my fingers, my boots. You humped my thigh once so hard I thought you were gonna pass out.”

Her breath caught.

He smiled. “Bet you miss it. That ache. That stretch. That first thrust when you’re too tight and it hurts just right.”

“I need air,” she muttered, standing.

“You need to be fucked,” he corrected. “Good and hard and bent over that railing. Maybe I’ll do it at midnight. Under the stars. Let the crickets hear how loud you still are.”

She fled.

But not before he saw the way her thighs squeezed together.

Midnight. Day 4. The Barn.

She stumbled in barefoot, breath ragged, robe clutched to her chest. The barn was cool and dark, the air thick with hay and heat.

Y/n needed some damn air from all the heat Johnny was throwing at her. She thought she was alone.

Then a slow clap echoed behind her.

“I knew you’d come,” Johnny said, stepping out from the shadows.

Her heart leapt. “You followed me?”

“Nope,” he said, stopping a foot away. “I waited. Knew sooner or later you’d break. You always do when you’re horny and pissed.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled darkly. “That’s the idea, sweetheart. Or maybe you wanna fuck me this time. Ride me like you used to, leave scratches down my back and drool on my cock.”

“Johnny—!”

“You gonna keep pretending, sweetheart?” His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Or are you ready to admit how bad you need me to ruin you?”

She bit her lip.

He leaned in closer, noses brushing.

“You remember how I used to fuck you on my tailgate? How you used to cry for it?”

Her knees almost buckled.

He smirked again.

“Yeah, you remember. Mouth open, drooling, whining until I let you come. Bet you miss choking on it, don’t you?”

Her lips parted, a shaky breath escaping.

Johnny leaned in even closer—lips almost grazing hers.

“You gonna kiss me, or keep pretending you’re not thinking about how good my cock would feel down your throat?”

That did it.

She snapped.

Y/N grabbed his face and kissed him hard—desperate, messy, all teeth and tongue and frustration. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling. And Johnny groaned into her mouth, lips hot and greedy as he kissed her back like he was starving.

“Fuck, there she is,” he growled, biting her lip. “Kiss me like you mean it, baby.”

She moaned.

He kissed her again, then pulled back just an inch, licking into her mouth, slow and filthy while peeling off her top.

“You wanna be good for me?” he whispered against her lips.

She nodded.

“Then get on your knees.”

She dropped.

The hay scratched her knees, but she didn’t care—hands already tugging his sweats down, mouth open, eyes wild.

“Desperate little thing,” he rasped, watching her. “All that rich girl pride gone the second I drop my pants.”

She wrapped her hand around his cock—thick and heavy and already leaking.

“You gonna worship it?”

“Yes—Johnny, please—”

“Then do it.”

She leaned in, tongue dragging up the underside before she sucked the tip into her mouth, slow and messy, eyes rolling back.

Johnny groaned above her.

“That’s it. Just like that. Tongue out—fuck—you missed this, didn’t you?”

She gagged slightly, pushing deeper, spit dribbling down her chin as she bobbed faster, hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t take.

“You suck it better than I remember,” he muttered, grabbing her hair. “So fuckin’ eager to please. You like making a mess for me?”

She moaned around him.

“Yeah, you do. Look at you—tears in your eyes, drool all over your tits, all because I told you to get on your knees.”

He thrust gently, shallow but firm, guiding her. She took it—wanted it, loving every second of the way he used her mouth like it belonged to him.

He hissed, pulling her off with a wet pop, cock glistening.

“Stand up.”

She obeyed, legs shaky.

Then—

“Turn around.”

She did.

He yanked her shorts down, panties soaked and clinging. He bent her over the hay bale, spreading her open with a groan.

“Fucking dripping.”

His fingers slipped through her folds, then smacked her pussy hard enough to make her jolt.

“Louder,” he growled.

“Johnny—!”

He chuckled darkly.

“You know what comes next.”

She nodded quickly, breathless. “Yes. Please.”

And he fucked her.

Rough. Deep. Filthy.

The chain swung with each thrust, slapping her back, catching her cheek.

And she fucking loved it.

“Whose cunt is this, baby?” he grunted, rutting into her.

“Yours—Johnny, it’s yours—always—”

“That’s right,” he growled, hand fisting her hair. “Gonna fuck you so dumb you forget every man who ever looked at you since me.”

He pulled out, spun her around, and lifted her.

“Ride me.”

She wrapped her legs around him, guiding him back in, riding him fast and needy, moaning into his mouth between open-mouthed kisses.

“You take it so good,” he panted, thrusting up into her from below. “Greedy little thing. I knew you’d come back.”

She kissed him again, sloppy, tongue desperate.

He snapped his hips.

She screamed.

And when they both came—hard, twitching, gasping—he kissed her through it, slow and filthy, hand cupping her cheek.

“Still think you’re better off without me?” he whispered.

She was too gone to answer.

So he fucked her again.

Johnny had her pinned to the barn wall, cock buried deep, arms locked under her thighs — and Y/N couldn’t stop moaning.

Not because of how deep he was. Not just because of the way he fucked her like she was weightless.

But because of him. The way he held her. The way his biceps bulged with every bounce, sweat glistening down his neck, jaw tight with control.

“You’re really fuckin’ into this, huh?” he panted, slamming into her harder. “All I gotta do is lift you up, and you melt.”

Her nails dragged down the swell of his arm, scratching the muscle, making him groan.

“You’re so strong,” she whispered, breathless, before she leaned in and bit his bicep hard enough to bruise.

“Fuck,” Johnny hissed, grinning, cock twitching inside her. “You got a strength kink, baby?”

Y/N didn’t answer.

She licked the bite mark instead — then dragged her tongue up his shoulder, across his throat, tasting the salt of his sweat. She moaned into his skin like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, rutting harder. “You’re licking me now?”

She didn’t stop.

She licked across his jaw, up his cheek, then��filthily dragged her tongue into his mouth — kissing him like she was trying to crawl down his throat, tongue everywhere, spit mixing, messy and hungry and insane.

Johnny groaned into her mouth, bouncing her harder, slamming her back against the wall. “You nasty little thing,” he gasped. “Lickin’ up my sweat while I fuck you? You’re gonna make me come just from that.”

She whined against his mouth, loving it — desperate, soaking, cockdrunk. Her legs tightened around his waist, her hands tangling in his hair, tugging, biting his lip between every kiss.

“You love it,” she breathed. “You love me all over you.”

Johnny snapped.

“I fucking adore it,” he growled, hand slipping down to grab her ass, bouncing her rougher. “I want you to suck my sweat off every inch of me when we’re done. You wanna do that, baby? Clean me up with that filthy little mouth?”

She nodded frantically, tongue slipping back into his mouth as she kissed him again, messier than ever — and all the while, he kept fucking her up against the barn wall like she weighed nothing.

And she came like that — tongue in his mouth, scratching his arms, moaning into his throat while he held her up like she was made for him.

Johnny set her down on the hay, both of them still breathless, her thighs shaking, body wrecked — but her eyes didn’t move from him. Not his face. Not his chest. Not the way his abs flexed as he caught his breath, his tan skin glistening with sweat, the chain around his neck dragging lower with each heavy exhale.

She crawled forward on her knees, eyes wide, mouth already open.

“Y/N…” Johnny warned, breathless, amused.

But she didn’t speak.

She licked his abs instead — slow and filthy — from the V of his hips up the middle of his torso, following the sweat trail with her tongue like it was nectar.

“Jesus fucking—” he hissed, watching her. “You’re a freak.”

Her eyes flicked up, gleaming.

“You like this?” he asked, grin crooked, hips twitching. “You get off on licking my sweat like a damn animal?”

She moaned and nodded, licking higher, dragging her tongue across the slope of his chest, biting his pec just because she could. Then her tongue snaked over his bicep again, licking it like it was her favorite dessert, hands gripping his arms like a lifeline.

Johnny watched her with a look that could scorch the barn to the ground.

“You’re the real nasty one,” he muttered, thumb dragging over her spit-slick cheek. “Not me. I thought I was the filthy fucker — but look at you.”

Y/N didn’t care.

She licked his neck, open-mouthed and slow, up his jaw, across his cheek — and then her tongue dipped into his mouth again, kissing him deep and dirty, spit smearing between them. Johnny groaned, grabbing the back of her neck and tasting himself on her tongue.

“You like tasting my sweat while I fuck your mouth, huh?” he whispered against her lips.

She moaned.

“You wanna be my good little clean-up girl?”

Another nod. Another whimper.

He pulled her down by the hair, guiding her between his legs, his cock still glistening from her earlier efforts and the wreckage they’d just made.

“You want this, baby?” he asked, voice low. “Wanna lick my cock clean too?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She dragged her tongue along the base, licking everything — his shaft, the underside, the head — moaning while she tasted herself on him.

“Goddamn,” Johnny groaned, watching her with hungry eyes. “You’re obsessed with me. You gonna suck me off till there’s not a drop left?”

She took him in deep, choking slightly, tears already pricking her eyes as she worked him with greedy, messy licks.

“Yeah,” he grunted, hand in her hair. “That’s right. Filthy little freak, can’t get enough of her ex’s cock. Can’t stop licking every inch of me like I’m the last fucking meal on earth.”

She moaned around him, swallowing him down.

And Johnny just laughed — dark, cocky, wrecked.

“My nasty girl.”

Johnny’s cock twitched in her mouth, and he hissed, hand tightening in her hair.

“Fuck—just like that—goddamn, baby…”

Y/N was moaning around him, tongue messy, cheeks hollowing like she lived for it. He watched her eyes water, her mouth stretch around him, spit dripping down her chin and pooling between her tits. Her hands gripped his thighs like she needed to hold on for dear life.

“You’re so good,” he groaned, head tilting back. “Fuck—you’re so good to me. You gonna swallow all of it? Every fucking drop?”

She gave him one more look — messy, desperate, ruined — and sucked harder.

That’s all it took.

He came with a deep groan, hips jerking, and she took all of it, swallowing around him, not even pulling back as he panted through it. He looked down at her, fucked-out and perfect on her knees, tongue still out.

“You little slut,” he muttered, smirking. “Come here.”

She barely had time to breathe before he grabbed her chin and kissed her again — full tongue, tasting himself on her lips, moaning into her mouth like he couldn’t get enough of her filth.

“Swallowed it like you were starving,” he said against her lips, kissing her again, messier. “You love tasting my come, huh?”

The Morning After

“I was drunk on adrenaline,” Y/N said, staring straight ahead as she sat at the little patio table, coffee untouched.

Johnny didn’t look up from where he leaned lazily against the railing, shirtless again, chewing on a toothpick, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

“You were drunk on my dick,” he said, casual as ever.

She snapped her head toward him. “It was just a moment.”

He smirked. “You came twice. Screamin’.”

“Sexual tension doesn’t mean anything.”

“You licked my chest like it was covered in whipped cream.”

She stood, flustered. “That’s not—! I’m not doing that again.”

He chuckled, low and cocky. “Sure, sweetheart. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Midnight. The Next Night.

She couldn’t sleep.

Again.

She’d tossed and turned for hours, sheets damp between her thighs, replaying the barn in her head. His voice. His hands. The stretch. That fucking grin when he knew he’d broken her.

She hated him.

She hated how much she wanted him.

Barefoot and silent, she slipped out of the house and into the night.

But she didn’t go to the barn.

She crept across the gravel path.

And slipped into his bedroom.

He was lying shirtless, one arm flung above his head, the other resting low on his stomach — like he knew she'd come.

And when she crawled onto the bed, straddling his thighs and tugging the covers down?

“Midnight snack, huh?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and amusement.

“Shut up,” she whispered, yanking his waistband down.

“Ooh, desperate little thing,” he chuckled. “Can’t stop thinkin’ about this cock, huh?”

She ignored him, leaned down, and sucked him into her mouth in one smooth, hungry motion.

“Fuck—shit, Y/N—”

She moaned around him, bobbing her head like she couldn’t get him deep enough. Saliva dripped down her chin, her hand twisting around the base, messy, needy, obscene. She was ravenous — mouth stretched wide, spit glistening, her eyes rolling back when he hit the back of her throat.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, hands sliding into her hair. “You suck cock like you’re starved for it. Like you’d die without the taste of me.”

She pulled off with a gasp, drool connecting her lips to his tip. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You love this,” he panted, watching her lick a stripe from base to head. “You’re fuckin’ obsessed, princess.”

She glared up at him, then dove back down.

Faster this time. No mercy.

She gagged on him, messy and wild, spit pooling under her as her thighs rubbed together for friction.

When he came, it was with a strangled, “Fucking hell, baby—”, and she didn’t stop. Swallowed every drop. Lips locked tight.

But then—she paused.

And went back down.

“Holy shit—what’re you—”

“I’m cleaning you,” she muttered, voice wrecked as she dragged her tongue over his now sensitive tip, licking him like he was melting chocolate and she was addicted. “I’m not leaving you messy.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, twitching in her mouth. “You’re not normal.”

She moaned, still sucking.

When she finally pulled off, face slick and chin shining, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glared at him.

“I told you,” she said, breathless. “You’re the freak.”

Johnny chuckled, chest heaving, eyes dazed.

“No,” he said, voice low and smug. “You just sucked me off twice, drooled all over my dick, and came into my bed like a cock-hungry ghost.”

She flushed.

He leaned up, kissed her messy lips, sucked her bottom one between his teeth.

“You’re the real freak,” he whispered. “And baby… I fuckin’ love it.”

Few days later

The afternoon heat hung thick over the farm, the sun beating down on the dusty yard, baking the earth beneath worn boots and rusted metal. The tractor stood half-fixed beneath the sprawling oak tree, and beneath it — shirtless, slick with sweat, and smudged in grease — was Johnny.

His golden skin gleamed under the sun, shoulders broad and arms taut with effort as he adjusted something under the machine. Dark smears of oil streaked across his chest, catching in the cut ridges of his abs, glistening over the line of his throat. His jeans were unbuttoned, hanging dangerously low, revealing the sharp V of his hips and the teasing swell of his cock under worn denim.

Y/N didn’t mean to stop. Didn’t mean to stare. But the moment she saw him, everything inside her stuttered and snapped. Her thighs pressed together, and her breath caught on the thick, humid air.

Johnny noticed her instantly. Of course he did.

He slid out from under the tractor, slow and easy, dragging a rag over his chest — only smearing the sweat and grease worse.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” he drawled, voice dark and smug, eyes dragging up and down her body. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer, to deny, but the words didn’t come.

She pounced.

One second, she was standing there — the next, she was straddling his lap in the dirt, fingers already yanking her panties to the side as she dropped onto him, mouth crashing down on his in a filthy, desperate kiss.

Johnny groaned low in his throat, hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass as she rocked against him, slick and soaking, grinding herself down onto the thick length already pushing against her. “Shit, baby—couldn’t even wait? So greedy. Just had to have me right here, all sweaty and dirty, huh?”

She moaned into his mouth, and he grinned like the devil.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. My nasty girl. You’re fucking obsessed with me.”

He tugged her shirt up and off, yanking her bra down to mouth at her breasts — biting, sucking, leaving wet marks on her heated skin. “You love this,” he murmured, teeth scraping over her nipple. “Love it when I’m all filthy. Love tasting the sweat on me. I see the way you look at me, baby. Like you wanna devour me.”

Y/N ground down harder, choking out a gasp as his cock filled her, her thighs trembling from the stretch and the filth and the heat.

Johnny’s head dropped back against the warm rubber of the tractor tire, his hands gripping her hips, controlling her pace. “God, listen to you. You’re fuckin’ soaked. You’re clenching around me like your pussy knows who owns it.”

She whimpered, kissing him again — messier this time, spit-slick and hungry, tongues tangling as she rode him in the dirt.

And when she finally came undone, shaking and panting, she didn’t stop. She slid down to her knees in front of him, eyes dark with hunger.

Johnny smirked, voice rough with satisfaction. “Oh? What now, princess? Gonna clean me up with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

She didn’t answer — just took him in, sucking him off filthy and wet, spit dripping down her chin as she worked her mouth around him. She moaned around him, messy and devoted, and Johnny groaned, hands tangling in her hair, guiding her deeper.

“Look at you,” he panted. “Slurping on my cock like it’s your fucking addiction. That mouth was made for this—made for me.”

And when he spilled across her tongue, she didn’t stop. She licked up every drop, then traced her tongue over the sweat-slick ridges of his abs, up his chest, his arms, his neck — tasting the grease and the heat of him.

She straddled him again, breath ragged, licking the sweat off his jaw and then finally sucking his tongue into her mouth, filthy and possessive.

The kiss was downright obscene — spit trailing between their mouths, tongues slick and wet, lips dragging until Johnny finally had to pull back, breathless.

He stared at her for a moment, eyes blown wide, and then let out a slow, cocky laugh. “You’re the sluttiest little freak I’ve ever met,” he murmured, thumb stroking her wet lower lip. “And you’re all mine.”

Y/N just smiled wickedly… and licked the string of spit from his chin.

Is it casual now?

The next morning, the kitchen was filled with golden light and the smell of fresh coffee. Y/N stood at the counter, carefully buttering a piece of toast like she hadn’t ridden him into the dirt less than twelve hours ago. Like she hadn’t dropped to her knees, moaning while she licked sweat and grease off his cock, his abs, his throat.

She didn’t look at him once.

Johnny stood in the doorway, shirtless, still damp from a quick rinse at the outdoor tap, jeans slung low on his hips. His cross chain hung over his bare chest, catching the light with every breath.

She was ignoring him.

He watched her slice into her toast, jaw tight. Fake casual.

"Morning," she said, not turning around.

That did it.

In two long strides, he was behind her, grabbing her by the hips and slamming her against the kitchen table. The toast clattered to the floor. A mug tipped and shattered. She gasped.

“Done pretending?” Johnny growled against her ear. “You think I’m gonna let you act like you didn’t have your tongue down my throat, licking sweat off my fuckin’ cock like a starving little freak?”

She gasped, half turning, but his hand was already yanking her shorts down. He bent her over the table, her hands slamming against the surface as he kicked her legs apart and pushed her panties to the side.

“You’re filthy,” he hissed, voice low and thick as he pushed inside her. “My greedy little slut. Been clenching around nothing all morning, haven’t you?”

She moaned, face flushed, trying to brace herself, but Johnny was relentless. He pounded into her from behind, the table creaking beneath them as he gripped her hips and pulled her back onto him over and over.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say you fucking love it. Say you love being my filthy little mess.”

“N-no—” she gasped.

He laughed darkly. “Still lying, huh?”

In one fluid motion, he flipped her onto her back, sending the last of the dishes crashing to the floor. He pinned her thighs wide open and thrust deep again. His chain slapped her cheek, glinting and cold.

She moaned — loud, raw, involuntary.

Johnny froze for a split second, then grinned down at her.

“Oh, you liked that?” he said, tilting his head, the chain brushing her jaw again. “You liked my chain slapping your face while I fuck you dumb?”

“Shut up,” she whispered, breathless.

His laugh was pure sin. “You’re such a little freak for me.”

He grabbed her jaw and spit right into her mouth.

Her eyes rolled back as she swallowed, trembling under him.

Then he leaned in, sucked her tongue into his mouth, slow and nasty, kissing her like he was claiming every inch she had left.

When he finally pulled back, she was shaking beneath him, wrecked and ruined, her body clinging to him like it never wanted to let go.

Johnny looked down at her, still buried deep inside, and smirked.

“Goddamn,” he murmured, brushing sweaty hair from her face. “You’re clenching like you never wanna let me go. You’re fuckin’ addicted to me.”

And the worst part?

She was.

Johnny’s chest was still rising and falling when he pulled away, lips tingling, his hands flexing once more around Y/N’s thighs like his body didn’t want to let go of hers. She was trembling — not the sexy, overstimulated kind of tremble he usually teased her for, but that soft, shaky, spent tremble. Her limbs were slack. Her mouth parted with little breathless exhales. And when he slowly pulled out, she gave a weak, whimpery noise that made something deep inside him tighten.

She wasn’t just cockdrunk. She was done.

“Shit,” he muttered, catching her before she slumped completely.

He held her up against him for a second, arms wrapped tight around her waist, forehead pressed to her temple. She was limp. Soft. Her skin was damp with sweat and slick and the evidence of how thoroughly he’d ruined her.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice low, not quite teasing anymore. “You good, baby?”

Y/N gave a half-nod against his shoulder, but her body swayed again.

Johnny’s cocky smirk faded.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled, hands going steady and sure, his whole body shifting into caretaker mode even as he tried to play it cool. “You really went and fucked yourself out this time, huh?”

He scooped her up easily — strong arms under her thighs and back, cradling her like she was made of something fragile. He carried her away from the table, away from the mess they’d made, toward the bed where the sheets were half-pulled down.

He tried to act unaffected.

“Didn’t know you were that desperate for me, sweetheart,” he drawled, trying for lightness, even though his voice cracked ever so slightly. “Jumpin’ me like that? Can’t blame you though—look at me.”

But he was already pulling the blanket down, gently lowering her to the mattress, moving her hair from her face with the softest brush of his fingers.

She let out a tiny sound — some mix of exhaustion and comfort — and curled instinctively toward him.

“Jesus,” he breathed, kneeling beside the bed. His eyes roamed her face: flushed, dewy, lashes wet at the tips. She was trying to stay awake, blinking slow like her body was shutting down completely.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Then another, slower, to the top of her spine.

She was his. And she’d given him everything.

He rubbed her thighs in slow circles, grounding her. One hand cradled her hip, the other smoothing through her hair again and again until her breathing started to settle.

Still, she trembled.

Johnny frowned and got up without a word. A minute later he came back with a bottle of water, a cool washcloth, and a damp towel slung over his shoulder.

“Here,” he said softly, holding the bottle to her lips. “Small sips.”

She drank, blinking up at him like he was some kind of ghost.

“You ain’t allowed to pass out on me like that, baby,” he said, quieter this time, trying not to sound shaken. “You scared me.”

She opened her mouth to tease him — but no words came out. Just another small, exhausted sound. Her body twitched.

Johnny exhaled slow. He gently spread her thighs and started cleaning her with warm, steady hands. She didn’t even flinch — just melted into the sheets, skin sighing under his touch. When he finished, he pulled a fresh shirt over her head, one of his, and climbed in behind her.

He pulled her into his chest, his arms locking around her tightly. His heartbeat was steady and strong, his voice a low rumble in her ear as he whispered:

“You’re okay. I got you.”

She murmured something into his neck.

He didn’t catch the words. But he felt the way her hand curled into his chest. He felt the softest kiss against his collarbone.

And when she fell asleep like that, clinging to him, completely undone, Johnny didn’t sleep right away.

He just held her there in the quiet — his cocky mask long gone — staring at the ceiling, wondering how the hell he’d gotten so deep.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t just thinking about how good she felt wrapped around him.

He was thinking about how good she fit.

-----------

There's more, wanna read the rest of this story? Become a member on my patron here or access the full story here! Or if you'd like to give a lil tip, do so here!

#nct imagines #nct x reader #johnny x you #johnny x reader #johnny imagine #johnny seo #johnny suh #nct johnny #nct 127 #nct smut #Johnny smut

120 notes · View notes

world-of-wales · 28 days ago

Text

THE 'DUCHY DAY' WITH THE 25TH DUKE OF CORNWALL! [1/2]

On a sunny field on the outskirts of Bath, there is a loud pop of a sparkling-wine cork. “I thought you’d never ask,” says the Prince of Wales, grinning and accepting a glass of fizz from the vineyard stretching out in front of him, on Duchy of Cornwall farmland.

He asks local producers questions about soil type, the weather and the history of the land before taking a sip and proclaiming it “lovely” and “very discreet”, at the start of a day that will go on as pleasantly as it began.

For Prince William, this is not just an outing in the peace and quiet of the countryside. He is here in his role as Duke of Cornwall, head of the estate he inherited the moment his grandmother died in 2022.

Vast, complex, and spanning 128,494 acres of land across 20 counties, the Duchy takes in both rural and urban life, and the priorities under its 25th Duke – William – range from ending homelessness to restoring rivers. He wants to use it as another “branch of his philanthropy”, he tells me: existing for “social impact” rather than as an old-style financial resource to be drawn from.

The Prince tries to visit part of the Duchy once every four to six weeks, working his way through its farms and offices to meet families and staff, shake hands and quiz them on what he can do to help. His visits are usually private, rarely making the Court Circular and kept quiet by loyal locals who are used to royal comings and goings.

In the middle of May, Kensington Palace granted a rare exception, giving permission for The Telegraph to join the Prince on a “Duchy day” for the first time since he took it over.

It has been six years since theuly first spent on the farm with Prince William. Then, he was in the apprentice role, shadowing his father, and modestly telling farmers, “I’ll try my best.” Now, he is fully in the driving seat, lit up with ideas on how to make his mark and, in his words, change the lives of those who live in his Duchy for the better.

He is, unmistakably, a man on a mission: to reform his Duchy so it is fit for 2025 and beyond; a “positive force for good” that will actively “make people’s lives better”. “We’re not the traditional landowner,” he tells me. “We want to be more than that.”

“There is so much good we can do,” he says.

He ends the day with a longer to-do list than when he started, and takes home a bottle of home-grown Duchy apple juice. He will have to drink it, he jokes, before his children can get their hands on it.

WHAT IS THE DUCHY?

For an estate that dates back to 1337, established by Edward III to generate private income for his then seven-year-old heir, the Duchy of Cornwall is geographically huge. Officially it exists to fund the life and work of the Duke of Cornwall and his family, which also goes towards running the Kensington Palace operation and paying staff – and passes to the next generation intact: the Duke’s role is as steward of the land.

As with other landowners, tenants pay rent to the Duchy, and there are commercial leases and market-rate deals with public bodies for properties on estate land. The Prince pays voluntary income tax with annual accounts reported to Parliament and oversight from the Treasury.

As of now, it has a new strap-line: “Positive impact for people, places and planet.” The “people” part is seen as mission-critical, including a heavy focus on solving homelessness, supporting the mental health of farmers, and arranging get-togethers to combat rural loneliness.

More than 150 people work across its eight offices, under the leadership of new secretary Will Bax and, ultimately, Prince William. Its largest landholdings are in Devon. The estate spans land from Herefordshire and Wales to Kent, inner-city London, the Isles of Scilly, sections of rivers in Dartmoor, Cornish beaches up to the high-tide line, and Plymouth Harbour.

Tintagel Castle, Cornwall :

It remains most famous for the Duchy Originals organic food line established by the then Prince Charles in 1990. Though it is now owned by Waitrose (and called Duchy Organic), the estate’s annual report warns it could still be muddled in the public imagination.

Since Prince William stepped into the role of Duke of Cornwall, he has embarked on a careful but wholesale stocktake of what is working and what is not. He wants to “dig deeply” to get a “true feel for what the Duchy is doing”, he tells me now, “trying to just go through with a fine-tooth comb”.

“The Duchy has been a positive force for good, but we can do so much more. I think the key thing is, it’s about not losing the important community and historical links of the Duchy. But it’s also about making sure we’re building on and enhancing, modernising the Duchy. We’re going to modernise it without losing its key spirit of community.”

"it’s going to take a bit of time” – likening updating the 700-year-old Duchy to “turning a tanker” – but he is determined to shift the focus away from the revenue-raising of old to put “social impact” at the centre. He chairs a quarterly meeting of The Prince’s Council, attending numerous other committees. He sends questions to staff and chases answers via WhatsApp on any given day.

THE VISIT :

On that mid-May day, the Prince arrives at Corston Fields Farm full of apologies. He is slightly late, after a train journey to Bath so delayed that the words “rail replacement service” were mentioned.

The farm, run by self-described “farmer and farmer’s husband” Emily and Eddie Addicott-Sauvao, is an exemplar of Duchy life: Emily’s parents have been tenants since 1982 (“the same year I was born”, William notes), and their two daughters now lend a hand with pruning. They have diversified into growing quinoa and a line in high-end events at the vineyard including food, wine and music pairing. Their award-winning Minerva sparkling wine, which the Prince tries, is priced at £120.

“We’ve chosen the right day for it,” he says, as the sun blazes and swallows fly in blue skies over- head. “Beautiful.”

The Prince notices everything.

“What’s this here?” he wonders, spotting wool from a scratching sheep at the bottom of a couple of the vines, and hears how the Romans used to grow similar grapes 2,000 years ago in the fields nearby. Like all farmers, he is preoccupied by the weather: it has been dry and he wants to know how it will affect their harvest.

He quizzes Rosa, 13, and Charlotte, 10, on what they like about living in the countryside (“you’ve got to get muddy haven’t you, that’s critical”), and tells them about his daughter of the same name.

He is particularly interested in the “community days” the couple host at the farm, where locals come, get their hands dirty helping out and meeting their neighbours, before being rewarded with lunch.

Asked what the Duchy can do to help their day-to-day lives as tenants, patriarch Gerald Addicott teases the Prince that he could make it “rent-free”.

“You’re not the first person to say that,” laughs William, adding – apparently semi-seriously – that he questioned whether he could do just that when he took over, and “got a lot of sweaty faces” responsible for balancing the books looking back at him.

Having spent the past few years speaking to farmers, he has concerns about how best to convince the public of the quality and benefits of locally grown, sustainably produced food.

“There is a huge problem here and I haven’t got an answer,” he says of how to recognise the work of British farmers amid cheap supermarket food and the “generalised” approach of the “mass retailers”. “We keep asking more and more of our farmers but you don’t necessarily get any benefits back on top of everything you have to do.”

Figuring out whether the Duchy can help to promote its small producers is on his to-do list. Staff, are used to receiving a follow-up call or message after each of these visits.

When Emily raises her own concerns about the lack of rural skills being taught in schools, the Prince nods. “We keep talking about the importance of being outside in nature but we don’t always give the jobs,” he says. “These jobs where you have that time in nature and think, ‘I enjoy it, I’m loving this.’ The opportunities need to be there in schools.”

By now, Matthew Morris, the rural director of the Duchy of Cornwall, who is tasked with keeping the Prince vaguely to schedule today, is trying to catch William’s attention with an eye on the ticking clock.

He has worked for the Duchy for six years, with both the now King Charles and Prince William. He notes cheerfully that staff no longer feel the need to put on a tie when the Duke of Cornwall is in town.

THE BOSS

It is a cliché to say that the Prince is in his element, but he is. After a period he has described as “probably the hardest year of my life”, he is as relaxed as I have seen him in a long time.

Without the usual press pack travelling with him, he is freer to speak and laughs easily, standing with hands in his pockets and visibly thrilled when he gets the chance to tease one of his team. He is delighted to hear that the office dog barks at Bax (“perhaps it’s the beard”).

His passion for all he can do at the Duchy is infectious. “He’s easy to follow because he’s got great conviction and personality, and he really wears his heart on his sleeve in terms of social interest and his desire to have a positive impact in the world,” says Bax.

The Prince is “pretty demanding”, he concedes – quickly clarifying “that’s great” – with a “pretty ambitious” outlook. Part of the job is amplifying others: “seeing the spark and getting the bellows out”.

Ben Murphy, estate director, describes the relationship between Duke and Duchy as its leader “laying down the challenge and it’s for us to figure out how to address it”. Prince William has a “healthy impatience, as his father did”, which “puts the wind in our sails; he really cares”, Murphy adds.

Henry Meacock, the chief executive of homelessness charity St Petrocs, is partnering with the estate on its first housing project with wraparound care to break the cycle of homelessness, with the initial phase due to be complete by the end of this year, and a policy of “blind tenure” meaning that private renters in Cornwall will live alongside social and supported housing. Prince William “is personally driving the timetable”, he says. “He would like to deliver more and quicker.”

In other words, he is putting his money where his mouth is. “He’s personally invested in the project and personally investing as well.”

The work, which is largely invisible to the public, is done alongside the day job of public engagements undertaken as Prince of Wales, passion projects such as The Earthshot Prize and Homewards, and responsibilities including investitures and overseas travel representing his father and the Government.

THE VISION

Since taking over, Prince William has incorporated much of the work he has been doing elsewhere in his royal life.

Nansledan, a new community being built as an extension to Newquay, will be the site of the aforementioned 24 homes dedicated to supporting people experiencing homelessness. The build will use low-carbon materials developed by one of his Earthshot Prize finalists.

On family holidays to the Isles of Scilly, where he, the Princess of Wales, Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis stay on Tresco, William got into the habit of quizzing residents about what would improve their lives. As a result, a new health and social care facility includes a modern maternity suite, there will be designated key-worker housing to encourage teachers and doctors to stay, and a strategy to make tourism more sustainable.

Elsewhere, there are hopes of reviving Cornish high streets and transforming Kennington communities.

On the rural side, the Duchy will create 50 hectares (or 70 football pitches’ worth) of new woodland per year, restore damaged peatland as part of a major “Dartmoor vision” project, and take tenants on the “journey” to net zero by 2032.

It has already returned water voles to the rivers in Cornwall.

“I see the Duchy as an extension of the work we do with the Royal Foundation,” says William.

While the Foundation, the main charitable vehicle of the Prince and Princess of Wales, has worked traditionally in urban areas, on topics including homelessness, mental health and child development, the Duchy can extend it to the countryside.

“I see it as a branch of my philanthropy. There’s so much good we can do in the rural world. I see it [the Duchy] as another arm to the work that I want to do, which is being a positive force for good. I think the Duchy have got way more levels and gears they can go through to be able to be a bigger force in the community.” He said.

The Prince and his staff tend to use the same language when asked about his personal ambitions: impact, vision, scale. “He’s a man on a mission,” confirms Will Bax. “He’s asking us to change and evolve in a way to deliver positive impact at scale and at pace.”

'While the Duchy has rural communities and environmental stewardship in its DNA, the new era will see some subtle differences including a focus on people, creating a really strong safety net for the vulnerable in society, and doubling down on the environmental agenda”.

To stewardship – “that idea of leaving something better than you found it” – they hope to add leader-ship: “Not being a benign presence but being a presence that is willing to lead on issues that we care about.” The Duchy will also shout more about its achievements.

“The Duchy has perhaps been a slightly discreet organisation that hasn’t really put its head above the parapet very much, that hasn’t spoken very publicly about what’s important to us and what we’re here to achieve, And we’re seeking to remove any ambiguity and ensure people understand that our objective is to deliver positive impact for people, for places and the planet.” he says

While Prince William cannot enter the political arena, with Bax confirming there is a “fine line between politics and policy”, the Duchy is nevertheless “seeking to find our voice where we think we can represent sensible, balanced views on issues that affect our communities”.

“The Duchy in the past I think has been cautious in that space,” Bax continues. “We’ll continue to be cautious but we won’t continue to be voiceless.”

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/royal-family/2025/05/30/prince-william-exclusive-duchy-cornwall-bring-real-change/

84 notes · View notes

hometoursandotherstuff · 8 months ago

Text

For less than $500k you can own this cool 1986 guitar shaped house in Fayetteville, GA. 5bds, 4ba, 3,122 sq ft, $475k.

This is pretty nice. Looks like they modernized the railing and main living area.

Nice wide staircase.

Cute living room area.

This is different- the island is in the dining area, but the kitchen is recessed. I like that idea. And, the kitchen has a door to the deck, also.

This would be great if you're having a buffet.

The kitchen has an open wall to the stairs and living room.

Nice large deck off the kitchen.

The primary bedroom is very large and has access to a terrace.

The en-suite has a large shower.

This is very nice.

The bedrooms are pretty big and have the guitar shape.

This is a nice shower room, also. It looks like the whole house was redone.

Look at the basement. It has a little kitchen with walk-out access to the yard.

I don't know if I would use this room as a bedroom, but okay.

There's a new bath down here, too.

The back of the house.

Look at how nice the grounds are- a gazebo.

There's a lot of land to work with.

1 acre lot.

#guitar shaped house #unique houses #unusual homes #houses #house tours #home tour #architecture #modern homes #homes under $500k

266 notes · View notes

mionemymind · 1 year ago

Text

Lost in the Universe (Part 1)

Summary: Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Slight Angst?

A/n: I know I haven't written in a while. But recently I've been on a surge to start writing again. I hope you all enjoy and please tell me honestly how you feel about it. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Part 2

Y/n dropped into a new universe, barely landing on her feet. She scrambled to find balance as the portal above her closed. “What the fuck?” Y/n wiped off her hands as she looked around the unfamiliar area.

“Are you lost dekta?” Y/n spun around at the sound of her voice. A smile plastered on Y/n’s face when she saw Wanda. She took a couple of steps when she felt something was different with the girl in front of her. “Wanda?”

The brunette chuckled at the obvious confusion. “It’s me dekta.” Y/n still grew apprehensive. She looked around the location she was in. They were on a simple farm surrounded by acres of grape trees. There was a barn and home in the distance and sheep and cows grazed the plain. “I don’t think you’re my Wanda though,” Y/n said as kindly as possible. It was scary to be in a new world without a clue as to how they operate. Even though Y/n knew that the woman in front of her wasn’t exactly her Wanda, it still gave her some type of peace knowing there was a version of her here.

“And you’re not my Y/n.” Y/n’s nerves eased with the comment as Wanda broke the distance between them. “So let’s get you back to my home and figure out how this happened.”

“Make yourself at home.” Wanda took off her dirty boots at the front and walked to the kitchen. She took the kettle out from the drawer and filled it with water. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Is that your favorite in your world?”

“It is!” Y/n yelled from the front of the house. She took off her shoes and jacket, hoping to not get the house dirty. The entrance of the house led them into a decent-sized living room filled with various decorations and plants.

Y/n didn’t mean to snoop but she couldn’t help but look at all the photos framed on the wall and tables. The first photo that caught her eye was a picture of young Wanda and Pietro back in what Y/n could guess was their hometown. She picked it up and analyzed it in detail.

“I miss him,” Y/n whispered to herself. Wanda noticed this as she walked in with two cups of hot chocolate. “We were only five in that photo. I think we went to the zoo that day. Probably one of our better pictures when we were younger. Everything else is either him or me or the both of us crying.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wanda nodded for approval, “is your Pietro still alive?” Wanda could sense this was a sensitive subject and gave Y/n one of the cups while directing her to the couch.

“Yes, my Pietro is still alive. Currently, he’s away on work.” Y/n gave a small smile, the feeling of missing Pietro grew inside. “I’m happy to hear that.” Y/n took a small sip of her hot chocolate, making sure not to spill the hot drink on herself.

“So your Y/n likes hot chocolate?” Wanda smiled in agreement. “Yes, my Y/n does like hot chocolate. She’s the only reason I have some. I’m just glad that part of her is with you as well. I hope it finds you comfort though because it must be scary to be in a completely different universe.”

“Well,” Y/n thought maybe lying would help ease her anxiety, but the presence of Wanda, even though it wasn’t necessarily her Wanda, made her want to tell the truth, “it is scary. I’m just hoping they find me. But you have been pretty calm for this whole ‘I managed to drop on your farm out of all the locations in this universe’ thing.”

“Your humor appears to be the same no matter the universe,” Wanda playfully said. “But the reason I’m not freaking out is because in this universe, I’m aware of my other counterparts. Luckily enough, you dropped into a universe where I have my powers.” Wanda proceeded to show off her magic, covering Y/n in red swirls momentarily.

“Are you able to drop me back home?” Wanda politely smiled, setting her cup down on the table nearby. “I’m sorry dekta. I unfortunately don’t have that type of power as of yet.”

Y/n sighed in defeat, her anxiety coming back with worried thoughts. Wanda reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand in a comforting manner. Even in different universes, Wanda Maximoff cared for Y/n Y/l/n. This was a simple fact that would not change. “However, your Wanda is currently on the hunt for you.”

“She is?” Y/n placed her cup down, her hand still interlaced with Wanda’s. “The rules of the universe don’t allow any conversation to happen between each other but we can still feel each other. So when you dropped into my world, I could feel the slight imbalance. But, you just happen to be dating one of the most powerful people in the universe.” Y/n blushed at the compliment, already knowing that she was lucky to even date Wanda in the first place.

“And the perk of dating powerful people is that we can feel other things in different universes. Right now, I can feel her dropping into other universes, trying her best to find you.”

“What if she can’t find me?” Y/n pouted. Wanda smiled even more. It was refreshing to see that their love expanded beyond her world. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek with her free hand, “This is something I will share only with you.” Listening intently, “You and your Wanda have a special connection. Think of it as a tether. Right now, she’s tugging on that tether hoping that if she continues to pull on it, it will lead back to you. No amount of magic, power, or science can cause this tether to break. It might be a little tangled with how many universes you might’ve accidentally gone through, but she will reach you in time.”

“So believe me when I say this dekta, Wanda will always find you.” Wanda kissed Y/n’s forehead and proceeded to get up. “In the meantime, my Y/n is away on a mission. You’re free to stay here with me until all of this gets sorted out.”

Wanda walked back to the front of the house, putting her shoes back on. “Is there anything I can do to help out while I wait?”

“Wanna help me with the goats?”

After a long day of work, Wanda and Y/n lay in the hammock near the campfire, admiring the stars that the night offered. “When I looked at your photos, I noticed none of them were of just you and I, how come?”

Wanda blushed at the directness and was thankful that it was nighttime. “You see, my Y/n and I aren’t dating yet.” Y/n faced Wanda with a ridiculous look. “Are you serious? How come I haven’t confessed? If there’s a world where there’s a you and an I, then we must be together.”

“I’m not sure. We bought this farm together to get away from the city and have some peace time before they spring our next mission on us. Even then, she doesn’t seem to have the courage to confess.” Wanda sighed, her patience was running thin but she knew it was worth the wait.

“Do you need me to get myself together?” Wanda laughed at the offer, clearly imagining two Y/n’s talking to each other. “I’ll probably be the one to have to confess first if she doesn’t do it soon.”

“Just to be sure, does the Y/n here like you like that?”

“Oh, I’m more than positive that my Y/n likes me back,” Wanda cockily states.

“What makes you so certain? Back then, it took me forever to confirm that my Wanda even liked me.”

“Cause within our tethers, I can feel her. I’ve only ever felt her. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to tie me to her if she didn’t feel the same way.” There was more to the truth than Wanda could let on, because in every universe, Y/n and Wanda always fall in love with each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the era, and no matter the time.

“I didn’t know the universe could be kind like that.”

They continued to star watch when a red portal in the sky opened up and out came two figures. One landed roughly as the other descended slowly onto the ground. Y/n and Wanda got up from their hammock and walked towards them.

“Wanda?” Y/n yelled out in the distance, hoping it was them and not an alien invasion. “Y/n?!” Wanda came rushing into Y/n’s arm, feeling her worries slip away as she finally was with her again. “I thought I lost you,” Wanda stated with worry. Today had been a long day for her and America Chavez. Hopping from universe to universe was hard, especially with a young teen that has no clue how to control her powers.

“You could never lose me,” Y/n stated confidently. Wanda pulled back from the hug and sealed a kiss, one that made both of their knees weak and minds numb with love. Pulling away slowly, pressing their foreheads against each other, Wanda said, “Let's go home dekta.”

Y/n nodded in agreement and intertwined their hands. They walked back to the portal but not before Y/n waved goodbye to this universe’s Wanda. “I hope she confesses soon!”

Wanda smiled back in return and waved. Telepathically, Wanda said, “Thank you for taking care of my Y/n.”

“Anytime, Wanda.”

Part 2

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @shadowybailiffdreamer-donkey @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @second-try-stevie @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha @itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @isitallreallyworthit @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff @imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy @olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00

A/n: I just used the same tag list from Fake Memories. If you didn't want to be tagged, I'm sorry.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fluff #lost in the universe #marvel #wanda maximoff fluff

673 notes · View notes

dandelionsresilience · 1 year ago

Text

Good News - June 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $Kaybarr1735! And if you tip me and give me a way to contact you, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week!

1. Victory for Same-Sex Marriage in Thailand

“Thailand’s Senate voted 130-4 today to pass a same-sex marriage bill that the lower house had approved by an overwhelming majority in March. This makes Thailand the first country in Southeast Asia, and the second in Asia, to recognize same-sex relationships. […] The Thai Marriage Equality Act […] will come into force 120 days after publication in the Royal Gazette. It will stand as an example of LGBT rights progress across the Asia-Pacific region and the world.”

2. One of world’s rarest cats no longer endangered

“[The Iberian lynx’s] population grew from 62 mature individuals in 2001 to 648 in 2022. While young and mature lynx combined now have an estimated population of more than 2,000, the IUCN reports. The increase is largely thanks to conservation efforts that have focused on increasing the abundance of its main food source - the also endangered wild rabbit, known as European rabbit. Programmes to free hundreds of captive lynxes and restoring scrublands and forests have also played an important role in ensuring the lynx is no longer endangered.”

3. Planning parenthood for incarcerated men

“[M]any incarcerated young men missed [sex-ed] classroom lessons due to truancy or incarceration. Their lack of knowledge about sexual health puts them at a lifelong disadvantage. De La Cruz [a health educator] will guide [incarcerated youths] in lessons about anatomy and pregnancy, birth control and sexually transmitted infections. He also explores healthy relationships and the pitfalls of toxic masculinity. […] Workshops cover healthy relationships, gender and sexuality, and sex trafficking.”

4. Peru puts endemic fog oasis under protection

“Lomas are unique ecosystems relying on marine fog that host rare and endemic plants and animal species. […] The Peruvian government has formally granted conservation status to the 6,449-hectare (16,000-acre) desert oasis site[….] The site, the first of its kind to become protected after more than 15 years of scientific and advocacy efforts, will help scientists understand climatic and marine cycles in the area[, … and] will be protected for future research and exploration for at least three decades.”

5. Religious groups are protecting Pride events — upending the LGBTQ+ vs. faith narrative

“In some cases, de-escalation teams stand as a physical barrier between protesters and event attendees. In other instances, they try to talk with protesters. The goal is generally to keep everyone safe. Leigh was learning that sometimes this didn’t mean acting as security, but doing actual outreach. That might mean making time and space to listen to hate speech. It might mean offering food or water. […] After undergoing Zoom trainings this spring, the members of some 120 faith organizations will fan out across more than 50 Pride events in 16 states to de-escalate the actions of extremist anti-LGBTQ+ hate groups.”

6. 25 years of research shows how to restore damaged rainforest

“For the first time, results from 25 years of work to rehabilitate fire-damaged and heavily logged rainforest are now being presented. The study fills a knowledge gap about the long-term effects of restoration and may become an important guide for future efforts to restore damaged ecosystems.”

7. Audubon and Grassroots Carbon Announce First-of-its-Kind Partnership to Reward Landowners for Improving Habitats for Birds while Building Healthy Soils

“Participating landowners can profit from additional soil carbon storage created through their regenerative land management practices. These practices restore grasslands, improve bird habits, build soil health and drive nature-based soil organic carbon drawdown through the healthy soils of farms and ranches. […] Additionally, regenerative land management practices improve habitats for birds. […] This partnership exemplifies how sustainable practices can drive positive environmental change while providing tangible economic benefits for landowners.”

8. Circular food systems found to dramatically reduce greenhouse gas emissions, require much less agricultural land

“Redesigning the European food system will reduce agricultural land by 44% while dramatically reducing greenhouse gas emissions from agriculture by 70%. This reduction is possible with the current consumption of animal protein. “Moreover, animals are recyclers in the system. They can recycle nutrients from human-inedible parts of the organic waste and by-products in the food system and convert them to valuable animal products," Simon says.”

9. Could Treating Injured Raptors Help Lift a Population? Researchers found the work of rehabbers can have long-lasting benefits

“[“Wildlife professionals”] tend to have a dismissive attitude toward addressing individual animal welfare,” [… but f]or most raptor species, they found, birds released after rehabilitation were about as likely to survive as wild birds. Those released birds can have even broader impacts on the population. Back in the wild, the birds mate and breed, raising hatchlings that grow up to mate and breed, too. When the researchers modeled the effects, they found most species would see at least some population-level benefits from returning raptors to the wild.”

10. Indigenous people in the Amazon are helping to build bridges & save primates

“Working together, the Reconecta Project and the Waimiri-Atroari Indigenous people build bridges that connect the forest canopy over the BR-174 road[….] In the first 10 months of monitoring, eight different species were documented — not only monkeys such as the golden-handed tamarin and the common squirrel monkey (Saimiri sciureus), but also kinkajous (Potos flavus), mouse opossums (Marmosops sp.), and opossums (Didelphis sp.).”

Bonus: A rare maneless zebra was born in the UK

June 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

1K notes · View notes

rock-omelette · 2 months ago

Text

BABY

Rated: T

Relationship: Dr Eggman | Dr Ivo Robotnik/Agent Stone

Add tags: Praise kink, Degradation, pre-slash, Stone has a crush on Robotnik, intentional use of feminine endearments, Movie 1 Eggman, no beta we die like Ivo, too soon?, me referring to drone badniks as the Hive, my favorite headcanon, get it bc theyre like bees

Summary: Stone had no right to be jealous

AN: This took longer than I expected, and Im not even necessarily happy with the finished result. Thats how it be sometimes.

The doctor has never made it a secret as to where his…preferences lie.

"Careful, baby,"

Machine, to be exact. More precisely, his own machines. In fact, his adoration and preferences for his machine for the sake of companionships trumps nearly anything else you could think of—in efficiency, in companionship, in sheer visual delight.

And Stone knows this. Of course he did. Everyone who's ever spent any length of time with the doctor knew, and Stone is closer than most.

"So proud of you, baby,"

It's in the way he talks about them, much less talks to them on a day-to-day basis. The doctor is almost paternal in his description of their design and capabilities. He sounds fond, affectionate and endlessly proud. This was, of course, besides mentioning how he talks to them.

You'd almost forget how each Badnik was a high risk tech-force of mass-destruction, capable of levelling acres of land or tonnes of concrete in a single easy blow individually, much less as part of the Hive they come with.

Robotnik seems to prefer referring to them with ambiguously feminine pronouns, and while—sure—he might say that he views them as nothing more beyond some functional artillery, his claims are underminded by how softly and sweetly he sounds when he talks to them.

"Oh, great job, princess." Robotnik would purr, after a successful demonstration boasting their newest upgrades to her honing and explosive laser-zoning capabilities, landing two to three agents in the infirmary for at least the next couple of days. Stone had been massively entertained the whole time, though nothing to the degree Robotnik himself had been. "What a wonderful show you gave them, yes you did, yes you beautiful lady. My little warrior princess. My bloodthirsty little queen."

And the Badniks respond back, trilling and cooing and purring with their apertures half-lidded in pleasure, brimming with pride for fulfilling their purpose. Robotnik had coded these machines with learning algorithms, to better hone prey-drives and making self-determined decisions for the better sake of fulfilling commands, protecting the hive. These machines are made with love, treated with love, they learn and return such sentiments tenfold, and seeing them interact with one another never fails to make something achy and warm bloom in Stone's sternum.

One that sits next to another, achy, slighty bitter emotion that lodges in the back of his throat—shallow, selfish and all too sappy.

Stone had no right to be jealous.

Read the rest on Ao3

#stobotnik #agent stone #ivo robotnik #choice of fic

49 notes · View notes

vintagelasvegas · 6 months ago

Text

Union Plaza Hotel & Casino, July 1971

The hotel was built on the site of the former Union Pacific depot and Greyhound bus terminal. Two companies financed the hotel: Upland Industries, a subsidiary of Union Pacific Corp, and Scott Corp. directed by Frank E. Scott. The Scott Corp. was the landlord, Scott was the CEO and president of the hotel, with partners Sen. Howard Cannon, and downtown casino stalwarts J.K. Houssels Jr, Jackie Gaughan, Sam Boyd, and Bill Boyd, who managed the “world’s largest casino.”

'70: Aug. 10, Groundbreaking. (LA Times 8/9/70, RJ 7/1/71)

'70: Nov., Union Station demolished. (RJ 11/24/70)

'71: May 2, Final UP train service. Amtrak was established, and passenger service through Las Vegas is suspended.

'71: Jul. 2, Union Plaza Hotel & Casino is opened. Architects: Zick & Sharp (Las Vegas) in association with Stanley J. How (Omaha). Contractor: Blount-Yoxen Construction Co. The hotel complex contained a bus station, 500-seat showroom, 2nd story pool in front of the hotel, and an adjacent parking garage. The 504-room hotel was roughly the same size as the Fremont Hotel and smaller than some on the Strip. Union Plaza claimed "the world's largest casino" as 66,000 sq. ft.

'75: Jul., Sports book addition. KDWN Radio 720 AM begins broadcasting from the hotel with a station on the 2nd floor.

'79: Oct. 28, Amtrak’s Desert Wind line through Las Vegas begins the first regularly scheduled service since ‘71. Small room and platform in the rear of the hotel is used as the depot.

'81: Apr., Rooftop sign and lights changed. Design by Charles Barnard, Ad Art.

'82: Construction of 26-story south tower, and conversion of the front pool to restaurant designed by Louis Pereira. (RJ 3/16/82, 9/19/82, 10/28/82)

'83: Center Stage restaurant opens in Jan. (RJ 1/23/83) Mural depicting the past, present, and future of passenger rail service created in the hotel between the lobby and depot area. Tower topped off in Apr. and opened in fall. Total rooms: 1030. (RJ 4/23/83, 10/20/83)

'90-'93: Jackie Gaughan acquires the holdings of Union Plaza founder Frank Scott, followed by Upland’s participation in '93, becoming the majority shareholder and ending the relationship with Union Pacific. The hotel is renamed “Jackie Gaughan’s Plaza” circa ’92, though the signs remain unchanged, with “Union” on the rooftop sign for several years.

2004: Mar. 26, Plaza is sold. Union Plaza Hotel & Casino Inc, Exber Inc and Gaughan South sell Plaza, Las Vegas Club, Gold Spike, Western Hotel, and 60 acres of land and non-gaming properties to Barrick Gaming and Tamares Real Estate for $82M. The Barrick group plans a "themed street behind the Plaza which will re-create the ambience of old downtown Las Vegas." (RJ 3/26/2004)

2005: Tamares buys Barrick’s interest in Plaza hotel and the Las Vegas properties; Larry Woolf managing.

2009: Firefly opens in the former Center Stage restaurant; Oscar's Steakhouse opens in its place in 2011.

2014: Jonathan Jossel takes over as the CEO of the Plaza, the youngest non-restricted gaming licensees in Las Vegas.

Construction in 1971. The first photo is dated 1/12/1971, Nevada State Museum Las Vegas.

Fremont & Casino Center, Apr. 1971. Union Plaza construction past Main St.

Sal Sagev Hotel and Golden Gate Casino; Union Plaza; Las Vegas Club and the Dugout restaurant. 1971. Photo via Plaza Hotel.

Postcards circa 1971.

Postcard c. '83 or later. New tower, new rooftop sign, and the Center Stage Restaurant.

Timeline Sources: UP Hotel Plans Ready for Signing. Las Vegas Review-Journal, 10/3/69; Work on 22-story hotel to start soon. Review-Journal, 8/2/70 p1; No Parking Here. Review-Journal, 8/10/70; Union Plaza Magic Hour Near. Review-Journal, 7/1/71; Plaza celebrates LV ‘uptown’. Review-Journal, 8/13/71; Rod Smith. Four Gaughan casinos pass to Barrick. Review-Journal, 3/26/2004; Howard Stutz. Lady Luck. Review-Journal, 12/13/2005; Oliver Lovat. A Golden Age for Downtown. GGB Magazine, 2021.

#1971 #Plaza

59 notes · View notes

delulu4anime · 3 months ago

Text

Maniac

Ch 13 ➧“I Do” Pt. 1

Parings ➧ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴄʜᴜʙʙʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary ➧ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴜɴᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴀʙʟᴇ. ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴀʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

Trigger Warnings ➧ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ.

Word Count ➧3.5ᴋ+

Taglist ➧ @lady-of-blossoms @dekusdante @fortunatelyfurrygiver @birbwithhat @whippedbyikemen @sleepykittyenergy @i-love-ateez @choppersworlds-blog @emochosoluvr @linaaeatsfamilies @sexys-archives @stxrlingpearl @swoozleee (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴍᴋ❣︎)

The next seven months were filled with cake tastings, wedding dress shopping, and reading RSVP's left and right. There were days where you took Emi out for a spa day because she was stressed out of her mind. Between the cafe and the wedding planning you were incredibly busy but you were still able to spend time with Satoru. He managed to plan picnic dates by the water with strawberry champagne and tiny sandwiches that looked even smaller when he held it. He managed to show up on his days off to the cafe with flowers after you texted him it was a rough day.

He even managed to make the task of putting together the two hundred cookies you and Emi spent hours baking into bags for wedding favors fun. By the end of the night your stomach was hurting by watching Satoru's poor attempt at trying to sing along to the songs you played in the background while you worked. Before you all knew it November twenty-sixth was here and you, Kento, and Satoru had gone the day before to set up the wedding venue up with the help of Emi's parents. Emi and Kento were saving a fortune by having the wedding in Emi's parents backyard. Well backyard loosely because they lived on five acres of land and they had a beautiful rustic barn that Emi had dreamed of getting married in since she was little.

You smiled at the way everything was coming together and you couldn't wait for the big day. Everything had been going according to plan until now. You watch Emi pace back and forth in her childhood bedroom as she chews on her manicured nails. The train of her wedding dress dragging behind her every time she walked a few steps then turned to head in the opposite direction. She had been waiting her whole life to meet Kento and to marry him so you couldn't blame her for feeling nervous.

"Emi it's totally normal to feel this way."

"We've been together for five years. I'm just nervous he's having second thoughts. What if he's down there thinking he's about to sign his life away? What if he's getting cold feet? What if someone objects on his behalf and they run away together? What if he has a secret life and-"

"Emi!" You say as you grab her by the shoulders to try and ground her. "Kento told me after a few dates with you that he knew he had met his wife. He's been waiting for this day longer than you realize. Now lets get you down to see your husband to be okay?"

You watch her exhale and it seemed all the anxiety of the wedding exited her body. She smiled at you and then brought you in for a tight hug.

"Thank you for everything. You're part of the reason we are here today. I'm just glad I won when we flipped a coin to see who's side you'd be on." She beams as she walks over to grab her veil.

"Wait you guys flipped a coin for me?" You chuckle as you help her center the veil.

"Well of course. We went back and forth for too long about how you were his friend first and I said you're my best friend now so that got us no where. We settled on flipping a coin."

After you fixed her dressed you walked around and stood in front of her; you grabbed onto her hands and smiled.

"You look perfect," You softly say and she smiles. "Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled before she nodded her head. You made your way out of her room and into the living room where her parents were. You felt yourself wanting to cry at the way they cheered after seeing their daughter for the first time in her wedding dress. The white trumpet cut it her form perfectly and you adored the lacy that adorned the dress. The neckline was high but the back dipped down quite low with buttons that ran all the way down her backside down the rest of her dress.

You knew Kento would cry when he saw her because while you were setting everything up for the wedding yesterday you noticed Kento whip a few tears from his face. The next step was to get Emi down to the barn and for everyone to take their places so that she could walk down the aisle. After a short walk down to the barn you walked in first and started to throw white rose petals as you made it closer to where the minister, Kento, and Satoru were already standing. You smiled sheepishly when Satoru looked at you and winked as you stood where you were instructed to stand. You watched as the barn doors opened letting in a cool breeze as Emi looked up through her vail and smiled down at Kento waiting for her.

You looked over to see tears rolling down his cheeks with the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face. You found yourself getting just as emotional watching your childhood friend meet your other friend you had grown so close with over the years fall in love. Now you had the honor to watch them become husband and wife. Everyone cheered as the couple said I do and kissed; they walked down the isle, hands clasped tightly together, as Mr. and Mrs. Nanami. The reception followed soon after and a live band play music as everyone danced, ate, and talked to another.

The glow from the lights that hung from the pavilion illuminated everything perfectly that even when dusk took to the sky no one took notice. You found yourself in the midst of an intense dance off between you, Emi, and Kento. The winner would get to command the losers to do anything. You decided that you wouldn't allow Emi or Kento one drop of alcohol while bringing over Emi's favorite cousin on Kento's side over for a chat. You could tell the fire in her eyes as she hiked up her wedding dress and threw down on the dance floor.

Despite yours and Emi's best efforts Kento come out of no where to steal the show which meant you and Emi had to follow through with his request. You both narrowed your eyes at him when he told you he'd have to think and get back to you both. You knew it was going to be something ridiculous. You searched for Satoru who passed on the dance battle to raid the table that had an abundance of different desserts. You were pretty sure it was a lame excuse to hide the fact he knew he would've lost but you still smiled as he bit into a cupcake as he nodded his head to whatever Kento's dad was talking about.

The pace of the music changed from fast to something slow and sweet. You started to make you way off the dance floor as you looked over your shoulder at Kento pulling Emi in and swaying to the melody. You were planning on grabbing a class of wine when you ran into someone. You were going to apologize when you realized it was just Satoru who was smiling down at you; the plate he had in his hand was long gone but some crumbs around his mouth were still present. You laughed and wiped it away.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" He asked as he grabbed your hand and led you back out to where you just were.

"Not as much as you did clearly." You tease as he places his hands on your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I did enjoy myself," He leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Especially watching your hips move to the music. Almost took you back up to the house and bent you over the closest surface I could find." He whispered in your ear as he moved a hand to your lower back as you continued to sway to the music.

There was no way Satoru couldn't tell how flustered you got thinking about him pulling your dress up just enough to slide his way into you. He chuckled watching you get lost in the thought as he kissed the top of your head. You laid your head against his chest and listened to the soothing beat of his heart. As the song was coming to an end you were about to ask Satoru something when someone else bumped into you. You expected the see one of the notoriously drunken cousins but your lips pulled down in a frown when you saw a familiar pair of brown eyes.

"Oh I'm sorry. Clumsy me." Hina said.

She wore a lilac dress that hugged her figure so tightly that you wondered how she was even going to take it off. You looked to see her date and you tried to rack your brain for where you could've seen him before. He was tall with long black hair that was tied in a bun with stray hairs falling to the sides of his face. His black suit looked like it was designer with silk details throughout the fabric; his black dress shirt was also made of silk and the top four buttons were left undone. If she had someone's attention that looked like this why on earth would she still trying so hard to get back with someone who didn't want her.

"Geto." Satoru said flatly.

"Gojo." Responded in the same tone and that's when it hit you.

This was Satoru's childhood friend that he had cut ties with because of the same women who was clinging into him right now. The two stared at one another before Hina reached up to bring her hand against Geto's cheek.

"C'mon Suguru. Play nice." Hina said and he scoffed at her before turning away. She huffed out something under her breath and she followed him.

You rolled your eyes at their theatrics as the song came to an end and another, more upbeat, song played.

"Are you okay?" You asked noticing how stiff Satoru was.

More guest joined in on the dance floor now that the band played a popular song everyone liked to dance to.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," He replied as you both made your way to the table you had been seated at earlier in the night. "We just haven't seen each other let alone talked since high school." He muttered out.

"That's your old friend right? I thought he looked familiar."

You look out into the crowd of people wondering how Hina could not only bring his old friend to the wedding but flaunt him about. You couldn't help but admire the way he seemed to reject being used as a prop in whatever scheme she was planning. Satoru suddenly place both hands on either sides of your face pulling you out of you thoughts and planted a kiss on your lips. He leaned his forehead against yours and rubbed small circles on your cheeks. You looked into his blue eyes and wanted to melt under his gaze.

"Do you want a drink?" You softly ask and he nodded his head.

"Something with alcohol in it." He said which had you raising your eyebrow. "I need to loosen up."

"I'll be right back." You say as you kiss the tip of his nose.

"Bring me back a cupcake! They told me I couldn't have anymore." Satoru pouted.

"I'll have to think about it." You teased as you started to make your way over the the bartender.

"Please peach!" Satoru called out but you pretended like you couldn't hear him.

You laughed at the thought of someone having to look at a grown man and telling him he couldn't have anymore sweets because he had eaten far too many. It's something you'd imagine the staff telling someone who had one too many drinks. While you waited in line you looked out to see Emi and Kento trying to dance to a song Emi had tried to teach him the dance moves to with no avail.

"They're so cute aren't they."

"Yes they are." You say, your smile fading, as you turn to look at Hina.

Her face looked a little puffy and you wonder if she had been crying despite her make up still looking intake. You realized Geto wasn't with her and you looked around into the crowd of people knowing you could find him and Satoru easily with their height. However, he was no where in sight. You didn't know what came over you but you looked back at Hina and smiled.

"Where's your date at? Figured he'd be up your ass like most people are." You say and you watch the corner of her mouth twitch.

"He had something come up so he had to leave." She said and you hummed.

"That's too bad." You flatly say as you finally get up to the bar and ask for two glasses of white wine.

You walk away without saying another word to her over to the dessert area trying to find something Satoru didn't dig his greedy hands into yet. You felt a strange sense of satisfaction knowing that Hina was here alone at the wedding; maybe now she would understand how you felt for so many years.

"I was about to leave but I just wanted to come over and apologize for my outburst a few months ago." Hina's voice rang out to you again and you turned to face her wondering if you heard her correctly.

"What?" You say astonished to hear her apologize. You didn't think that word was even in her vocabulary.

"What I did was wrong and I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I was just shocked to find out Satoru was seeing another women while he was still trying to get back together with me. You can imagine why I was upset can't you?" She pouted and you just stared blankly at her.

Her eyes widened and she brought her hand up to her mouth. Your grip on the wine glasses tightened as dread planted itself in the pit of your stomach.

"You didn't know did you?" She gasped and you narrowed your eyes. "I don't mean to be a bitch and ruin whatever you have going on but I thought you should know that he was practically begging for me to go to the wedding with him."

"You're lying." Is all you could mange to say and she laughed.

"Of course you would think that," She said as she got her phone out of the small purse she was carrying. "You've been so desperate for his attention for years that you won't believe it unless I have proof. I wouldn't be shocked if you still stayed because he's the best someone like you is ever going to get." She said as she pulled up the conversation between the two of them.

You read through and noticed the time stamps dating back to even before you and Satoru had decided to declare a truce. You thought back to Hina's comment several months ago when Emi asked who'd she be going to the wedding with. There's a fling of mine that's been asking me every chance he gets if he can go as my plus one but I'm not sure yet. You brain replayed the words over and over again as you continued to read until you got to the night that you threw Emi and Kento's surprise party. Dread spread everywhere in your body remembering Satoru saying he'd have to move things around Saturday night as you read the text.

Nuisance Ex

C'mon babe please. Just one more night of fun.

As much as you wanted to deny this there was no way you could when the proof was looking you right in the face. It wasn't the fact that they had been hooking up for who knows how long before you and Satoru were anything other than enemies. It was the fact that he looked you right in the eye and made it seem like that you were the only one he wanted to take to the wedding. That you were special to him. Hell, he even moved his Saturday plans around to make sure that he would be apart of the surprise party.

Doubt took the reins as it made you wonder if he and Hina slept the day of the surprise party; you wondered if he asked Hina to go with him one last time and if she rejected him. I have to keep my options open you remember Hina saying which only meant that the only reason he asked you was to make her jealous. You clenched your jaw at the memory of Satoru insisting he had someone special in mind to take to the wedding. You remember how special you felt when that person turned out to be you. You felt like it was high school all over again and you didn't think you could take the heartache. Those moments he was looking down at his phone like when he waited for you after work or at the restaurant as a text would come through; was he texting her the whole time?

"I tried to warn you," She said as her sweet facade dropped. "He has no regard for anyone's feelings. He doesn't even care about mine which is why he comes crawling back every time he gets bored with whatever fling he has going on. It doesn't matter what I have going on he uses the right words and touches me in just the right spots to make me throw caution to the wind."

She snapped right back to her usual self and laughed as she locked her phone as she put in back in her purse. To anyone watching the two of you they would assume you were friends catching up and not the fact she dropped this bombshell on you.

"But like I said earlier maybe it's pointless to show you. I'm sure you're just grateful he's finally paying attention to you after all this time."

Something in your snapped and you threw the glasses of wine against her which caused her to scream out. Several people nearby heard the commotion and turned to see you setting the glasses on the table next to you.

"You deserve all the chaos life brings you." You say as you turned to walk away from a shrieking Hina.

"Fuck you!" She screamed out as she looked for something to dry herself off with.

"Right back at you bitch." You say over your shoulder.

You made your way through the maze of people trying to find Emi or Kento because you needed to leave immediately. You found Emi talking to a few of her relatives with Kento standing close by. You looked behind you to see Satoru white hair making his way over to where you had just been after hearing Hina's screaming. He must be use to hearing that sound. Why else would he be heading over to her. The nagging voice was back and you knew those nagging thoughts were going to hit you like a tsunami once you were alone.

You turned back and you smiled hoping this would be the one time they wouldn't be able to read you like a book to see something was wrong. You placed your hand on Kento's arm and he looked down at you which caused Emi's attention to pull away from the conversation.

"Hey! Kento and I talked and he agreed to give us a second chance to beat him at the dance off. He wants us to drink black coffee with no cream or sugar for a year if we don't redo this. I'd rather explode." She teases.

"I'd love to but I actually have to leave for a little bit. Something's come up." You say and Emi's eyebrows knit together.

"Is everything okay?" Kento asked, worry laced in his words.

"Oh yeah it's nothing serious. A friend of mine came into town but got stranded on the side of the road. Their relatives are still an hour out. I'm closer so I'm coming to the rescue." You say with a smile and you held your breath as the couple stared at you.

"Stay safe please." Emi smiles and leans over to give you a hug.

"Call me if you need any help." Kento said and you nodded your head.

You walked away but turned to see Satoru looking around frantically for you. He asked someone nearby a question and they shook there head. You turned back and made your way up to Emi's house where you had kept your things. You took your heels off once you got into the house and made your way to Emi's old bedroom; you quickly grabbed your bag and throwing it over your shoulder knowing it was only a matter of time before he found out you were gone. This would be the last time he'd make a joke out of you.

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴊᴇʟʟʏꜰɪꜱʜ ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ

#smut #fanfiction smut #anime smut #fanfiction #delulu4anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

39 notes · View notes