#CHOOSING to have to deal with all of that. admirable…..

[absurdthirst]

Run to You {Rancher!Agent Whiskey x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 22.5k

Warnings: 1800s AU, domestic violence, threats of sexual assault, fainting, hatred, loss, death, wariness, protectiveness, talking to ghosts, flirting, discussions of sexual acts, innocence, loss of virginity, oral sex (male and female receiving), technical adultery, fighting, gun violence, fear of being hanged, marriage vows.

Comments: Escaping from your husband, you run onto Jack Daniel's land. Begging him to help you, keep you safe from the monster you had been married to. Jack hates your husband, so he takes you in. Teaching you that you can trust him because he will protect you.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Agent Whiskey MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The sky is painted with red, orange, and pink. It's picturesque, and Jack adjusts his grip on the reins as he watches the sun set on another day. He's exhausted after working his land. The ranch that he paid for with coins he fought hard for. It's his sanctuary, and he is determined to maintain his peace. His horse huffs and he chuckles, patting his side, "don't worry, bud, we will get you fed." With a sigh, he prepares to go home just when he sees something running across his field. Wait...it's someone. Jack squints, back straightening until he sees it's a woman. Your screams hit his ears, and he immediately tightens his grip on the reins. "Help! Please! Help!" You scream, dress ripped and face bloody as you run towards him. He is on guard, glancing around to see if you're a distraction, but when you approach him, he sees the terror in your eyes. "What's wrong, girl?" He demands, his pistol on his hip and his fingers twitching with the urge to grab it. "Please. He's - he's trying to - help me." You sob and Jack nods, seeing the authenticity in your pleading. He reaches out towards you, offering you his hand, and you grab it. He swings you onto his horse behind him, kicking his side to gallop towards his home. You cling to him and he doesn't say anything until he stops outside his home. He swings his leg over and you look down at him when he stands and offers his hand to you. "You gonna sit on the horse all damn night, little lady?" He asks, raising his eyebrows. You shake your head and he helps you down, taking his horse over to the rail to tie him up until he can deal with him. "You gonna start tellin' me what the fuck is goin' on?" He asks, placing his hands on his hips as he looks at you until your eyes roll back. He barely manages to catch you before you hit the floor. "Goddamnit." He mutters, carrying you into his home.

The stone and log house isn’t as grand as some of the larger ranch houses around here, but it’s solid and warm. Jack kicks the door closed behind him and rushes to lay you down on the impractical sofa that his late wife had chosen for the parlor. He gently sets your head on the cushion and steps back, admiring your profile before deciding to get you some water and a rag to help you come back to your senses. “What the hell is happening over there?” Jack asks himself as he dips a clean cloth into the water bucket after pouring a glass of water. He knows the ranch that it seems like you had run from and he doesn’t like them at all. They push to graze their cattle on his land, something Jack and his cowboys have to be wary of.

You hear clanging and cursing and you wince, head throbbing as you struggle to open your eyes. You huff, sitting up slowly to look around and that’s when you begin to realize you are in a strange place. You gasp just as Jack walks out of the kitchen to see you sitting up. “Ah you’re awake, how you feelin’ sugar?”

The way you eye him warily, as if you don’t remember running to him for help has him chuckling. “You musta knocked your head good.” He shakes his head and ambles over, holding out the cup of cool water and the rag.

You don’t take the water from him, cautious as you watch him move across the room. “You don’t remember? I was ridin’ home and you came runnin’ towards me. Bout scared me and my horse but you begged for help so I brought you here and you collapsed. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Can you remember what you were runnin’ from?” He asks, slowly kneeling down on one knee next to you.

He waits for you to answer but you refuse to say a word, making him frown slightly before he rubs his fingers over his mustache. “Name’s Jack Daniels.” He decides that maybe you just need some information on him. “Most call me Agent Whiskey, seein’ how I used to be a Federal Marshall that used to investigate bootlegged whiskey.” He smirks. “Never managed to find any.” He winks playfully at you before letting the easy smile slide off his face. “So you’re safe with me, sugar.”

You stare at him, wanting to believe him, but you’ve been in danger for so long it’s hard to kick the feeling that something is going to happen to you. He holds up the glass of water again and you tentatively reach out to take the cup from his hand. He nods and leans back a little. “You wanna tell me what you were runnin’ from?” He asks softly, not wanting to spook you again.

Deciding that your thirst was worth the risk of whatever he might have added to the water, you lift the cup to your lips, moaning at the wetness. “My- my husband.” You admit with a wince. “Judd Miller.”

Jack’s eyes widen, eyebrows raised at a name he knows too well. “You - he got married?” He asks and you nod, swallowing another gulp. “I was - I am from New York. My father arranged for my marriage to Judd without us ever meeting. I was sent here on the train and we married the first night I arrived but he - he’s a monster.” You finish in a whisper and Jack frowns, knowing what the man is like. “I’m sorry, sugar.” He murmurs, “why’d you run? What happened?”

****

“You get back here, you bitch!” You reach the stairs, heels pounding on the wood as you race for the front door. You need to get out of this house, away from Judd. Reaching for the knob, you fling the door open and race towards the porch, the hitch post where his horse is still waiting for him. “Hurry up!” You hiss to yourself, hands shaking when you unwrap the reins, only to drop them when there’s a crash from inside the house you had just slept in for one night before trying to flee. The horse bolts off, leaving your only option to try to escape on foot.

“Get back here, you fucking bitch.” Judd shouts as he runs out the door, tempted to get his shotgun but he wants you in one piece. Ain’t nobody wanna fuck a dead wife. He growls, stomping to run after you. “Come back ‘ere. I promise I’ll treat you good. Will even let you close your eyes. You don’t have to watch me fuck you.” He promises as he follows the path you took into the woods. “Come on honey. Don’t be shy. I just wanna take what’s mine.” He coos, stepping into the trees, listening to any noises of you nearby.

You don’t want to be his. Judd is disgusting, the blackness of his soul oozing out of his eyes as he had stared at you. You try to catch your breath, needing to keep quiet. Why did your father send you here? Why this man?

Judd grunts, checking behind a tree, and he growls when he doesn’t find you. “Come out, come out wherever you are, girl. Come ‘ere wife. I just wanna fulfill my husbandly duties.” He coos, his head turning when he hears a twig snap in two just in time to see you running. He growls, chasing after you, and he manages to grab your dress. Your scream echoes in the wood and he wraps his arm around you. His hand covering your mouth to smother your scream. You react immediately, biting down on his hand, and he yelps, “fuck!” His hand immediately smacks your face, stars flashing in your eyes and you swear you taste blood. His grip on you loosens and you take your chance. Stomping on his foot, you shove him back and try to run despite your head spinning.

“You bitch! You just wait until I get my hands on you!” His foot hurts too badly to immediately rush after you although he is certain he will catch you. There’s nowhere for you to go. Only that Daniels asshole to the east of here and Judd wasn’t concerned about him. “I’ll make you think twice before you run again!” He bellows. “You hear me girl! I’ll make you regret it!”

**** 

Jack clenches his jaw, his eyes on the gash on your forehead from Judd’s ring hitting your face, and he wants to grab his pistol and go kill the bastard. He inhales deeply when he sees you flinch at the look on his face. “Lemme take care of that cut.” He murmurs, reaching up to gently grip your chin. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He promises, touching you when you relax. He tilts your head, “let’s get you cleaned up. You hungry?” He asks, wondering if you want some of the stew he has cooking.

Your eyes widen, surprised that he is being so gentle, offering you food. “I-“ your stomach lets out an outrageous sound right as you start to refuse. Your cheeks start to burn and he chuckles softly. “As soon as I get you fixed up, I’ll grab you a bowl.” He promises, making you wonder why your parents couldn’t have chosen someone like this handsome, kind stranger rather than Judd. “Thank you.” You murmur softly.

Jack shifts to stand, grabbing his supplies from the kit he keeps. He lives alone so he has a lot of injuries he has to treat himself. He kneels beside you again, grabbing a piece of cotton to dab at the blood on your forehead. You’re even more beautiful up close and he tries to focus on helping you. That’s what you need from him. “You wanna tell me what New York is like? I’ve never been.” He asks, trying to distract you.

“It is almost indescribable.” You admit, voice hushed as you think back to your home. “Buildings that reach the sky. Every luxury you could want right at your fingertips. Electricity. No lamps. A toilet inside, and not a bucket. Libraries, all the books you could read just waiting for you to pick them up.” You sigh wistfully, hating that your personal trunk filled with books is now in Judd’s possession. He will probably burn them.

Jack sees the passion in your eyes and he smiles, glad to see some life return back to your form as he cleans your cut. "Sounds like a mighty fine place. I was born and raised in the west. I ain't been to a city like that." He confesses, "and for the record, I got books." He jerks his chin over to the shelf, smirking at you.

You’re a little embarrassed, afraid you insulted the man who saved you. “What kind of books do you like to read, Mr. Daniels?” You ask politely but his answer astonishes you. “Oh a little of everything. Medical journals and such, a little bit of philosophy, my late wife, rest her soul, enjoyed those scandalous dime novels the good ladies at the church have palpitations over.” He chuckles. “So I had to keep them. Kept me from having to turn down dinner every Sunday to be introduced to their daughters.

Your wide eyes make him chuckle and he watches your mouth open and close a couple of times. "I am sure you are a popular gentleman." You observe, not blind to see how handsome he is. He chuckles, shrugging one shoulder, "I do not desire a simpering woman who will not want to help me with our home. I do not desire a woman who cowers from the harsh realities of ranch life." He confesses, "and...and I have yet to meet anyone who could compare to my beautiful late wife."

Why couldn’t your father want this kind of man for you? “I don’t know the harsh realities of ranch life.” You admit softly, staring down at your soft, unmarked hands. “And your wife must have been beautiful.” You’re jealous, envious of a dead woman curling in your gut. It is because your ‘husband’ would never speak of you that way, never.

“She was.” He murmurs, lost in the memories of his wife. That tragic night she was taken from him so many years ago. You hiss when he presses too hard on the cut and he pulls his hand back, “sorry, little lady.” He reaches for the salve he keeps on hand for his own injuries and applies some to your wound. “There ya go. You’ll be shiny like a new penny in no time.” He promises, “now, let’s get you some grub.”

“Grub?” You frown at the word and Jack snorts. “Food, little lady.” He clarifies. “Stew. It’s venison, more meat than anything, but I never have time to plant a vegetable garden and I’m tired of beans.”

You listen to him ramble as you follow him through the house to the kitchen, the warmth of the space inviting, although it would be better if there was the scent of freshly baked bread.

He strides over to the stove, grabbing the spoon to stir the stew. “Sit yourself down. You only just woke up. I’ll get you a bowl and you can eat. You need your energy after your fall.” He grunts, reaching for a bowl so he can scoop some stew up. “Eat.” He demands, placing the bowl and a spoon down on the table in front of you.

He’s not fawning over you, but it’s probably the most cared for you’ve felt since you learned you would be coming to this place and marrying Judd. “Thank you.” You murmur softly. “Are you going to eat with me?” You ask, spooning up a bit of tender looking meat.

He nods, reaching for his own bowl. “I was comin’ home to eat this when you ran in front of me.” He snorts, spooning some stew into his bowl. He wastes no time sitting down opposite you, digging into his food with a grunt.

“So….” You take a sip and it’s a little saltier than you were expecting but it’s good. Hot and flavorful. “You live here all alone? No one else?” Jack chuckles. “Hands live in the bunkhouse.” He tells you. “They take their meals there, and they don’t often come up here for a social call.” He shrugs slightly. “Just me up here in the main house.”

He shovels the food into his mouth, eating like the food is going to disappear, and he sees you watching him. He swallows, shifting to sit up. “Sorry ma’am. It’s been a while since I had the honor of eatin’ dinner with a lady.” He explains, taking a smaller spoonful, making sure to take his time.

“Do not apologize.” You smile slightly as you take another sip of the soup. “Do all ranchers eat with such gusto?” You ask curiously. “I imagine it is taxing work.” Jack nods. “Best thing to come home to is a hot meal.” He tells you. “Even better when you don’t have to cook it.”

You nod in understanding. “I can imagine food is the first thing on your mind and you must be exhausted. I’m certain you’d prefer someone to cook for you.” You murmur and Jack nods, “yes. The ranch hands are always moanin’ about not havin’ a lady of the house to cook but I tell them to quit whinin’ and make a campfire.” He snorts, taking another spoonful of the stew.

You almost volunteer to cook for him right then, but your mother always cautioned you to not play your hand too early. Before she had died, she had been teaching you how to get around navigating in a man’s world. How to lead your husband to the happy home you wished for, although you know she would have never agreed for you to be married off to Judd. “Well, your stew is delicious.” You hum.

Jack is pleased with your compliment. He smiles, nodding his head, “why thank you kindly.” He watches you eat for a moment, the dainty nature of your posture, and he wonders how you ever ended up in the Wild West. “Tell me about yourself, sugar. What did you do back home?”

“Oh, um….” You look down at the soup and sigh. “I am afraid that my time was taken up by social calls and activities that were proper for a lady of my standing.” You roll your eyes. “When I was able to escape that, I spent time in the gardens and the kitchen with my father’s staff.”

Jack frowns at that. “That doesn’t sound like a fulfilled life. I ain’t really one for social anything. Prefer to keep to myself nowadays. Must’ve been exhausting. Unless - unless you like that sorta kind of course.” He adds hastily, “I’m sorry you were brought out here.”

“I can’t go back there.” You shudder and your shoulders round in worry. “He’s horrible and I know that he will - he wants-“ you bite your lip, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “We married yesterday and he was too drunk to-“

Jack clenches his jaw, glancing across to the window. He knows what kind of man Judd is. He shakes his head, “you don’t need to worry about that, sugar. Ole Jack will keep you safe. You ain’t going back to him if I’m alive and kicking. We will figure out how to get you back to New York before he figures out where you are.”

Your heart swells for a split second before you crash again. “I cannot go back to New York.” You admit with a heavy sigh. “My father would just put on the first train back to Judd.” You blink back tears and spoon up another sip of the soup.

Jack shifts to sit back in his seat, “your father would send you back to a man as vile as Judd?” He asks and your little nod breaks his heart. You look so defeated. “You’ll stay here then until we can figure out what you wanna do next. If you help me around the house, I’ll pay you coins that you can use for your journey and new life. Does that sound fair?” Jack asks, eyebrows raised. He’s not a rich man so he can’t just give you the coins but he wants to help you.

“That is-“ you choke up slightly, feeling safe for the first time in weeks, since you boarded the train to bring you to Judd. “Thank you.” You murmur softly, reaching out and touching his hand, even though that could be considered a breach in manners. “I will do whatever I need to help.” You promise.

Your soft hand touching his has his heart lurching in his chest and he suddenly struggles to swallow. He nods, watching you pull your hand back a moment later. "Happy to help, ma'am." He murmurs, "the fellas will be happy if you cook. They will worship the ground you walk on." He chuckles, taking another spoonful of stew.

“You said you had not planted a garden?” You ask, biting your lip. “Perhaps I could look at starting one? I love working in a garden.” Cooking might be a little more challenging, but you had spent plenty of time in the kitchen for the house. They had taught you well.

Jack nods, “that’ll be - I’d appreciate your green thumb. I kill any plant I touch.” He confesses with a chuckle, “and cooking? Anything that we ain’t gotta cook is good grub to us.” He promises, “tomorrow I’ll show you around the ranch. Judd doesn’t come out this way. He knows to stay off my land.” He promises, “and I’ll tell him I ain’t seen no woman if he approaches me and I’ll order the fellas to do the same.”

“Thank you.” You smile and hope that Judd doesn’t surprise Jack. From the way that Jack spoke, there’s been some issues between him and the other rancher. “I hope you don’t regret this.”

**** 

After dinner is cleaned up, Jack wipes his hands on his jeans, “I, uh, I will give you the bed. I can sleep on the floor or the couch.” He assures you despite knowing his back will be fucked for tomorrow. “My late wife…I still have her clothes. So you’ll have nightwear and something to wear each day. I think they’ll fit you.” He eyes you for a second and makes his way over to the stairs. “You’re welcome to follow.” He says when you remain still, and he stomps up the steps.

You shouldn’t trust Jack, but you don't have much of a choice. Getting to the stairs and then slowly climbing them, looking out over the living space as you climb. “I could sleep on your couch.” You offer. “That way I could get up early enough to make breakfast.”

Jack looks at you as you stand on the steps, “my mama, bless her soul, would beat me black and blue if I let a lady sleep on the couch while I had the bed. No, you’ll sleep in here. It’s upstairs too. You’ll be safer in case something happens. I’ll be right there by the door with my shotgun.” He promises, wanting you to feel safe.

"Alright, Jack." His colorful visual of what his mother would have done has you imagining a small woman scolding a younger Jack, perhaps pulling his ear. "If you insist." You will see if there is anywhere you can sleep that would give him his bed back. You finish climbing the stairs and join him on the landing.

He walks over to the set of drawers and opens the top one, reaching for a nightdress that his late wife would’ve worn and he holds it out towards you. “Here ya go, ma’am.” You take it and he shifts to make his way from the room. “Toilet is outside. You can wake me up if you need to go. If you want to go now, I can stand guard. There’s a sink and stuff over in the corner.” He points to the sink and shifts awkwardly, “so I’ll let you settle in.”

“I-“ you wince slightly, remembering that none of the houses around here have indoor toilets. “Thank you. I’ll make sure to go now before the sun sets.”

Jack nods, “let’s go, little lady.” He makes his way downstairs, grabbing his shotgun in case Judd or his men have somehow gotten brave enough to come to his home. You shiver when you walk outside and he stands guard, glancing around at the trees surrounding his home.

"The toilet isn't too far." You are grateful for that, wishing that you didn't feel so exposed. "Don't like stumbling around in the dark." Jack admits. "There's wolves out here, so don't come out without me or a gun." You choke back a laugh. "I don't know how to use a gun." You admit and he huffs. "I'll teach you. You need to know to live out here."

Jack stands guard while you do your business and he will take a piss outside once you’re fully situated. You make your way back inside and he locks the door to show you he’s serious about your safety. “Anything happens, you scream and I’ll be there to shoot the bastard.” He commands and you nod. He watches you make your way upstairs and he sets his gun in the corner, working on stripping down for the night. His boots by the door, his hand on the rack, and he grunts as he lays down on the couch. “Goddamn Mary, darlin’. I love you dearly but this fuckin’ couch.” He murmurs as he looks up at the ceiling. Reaching over to turn off the oil lamp and he sighs, wondering what he’s gonna do with you to get you away from Judd.

You are exhausted, feeling safe for the first time since you had been told you were getting married. Undressing doesn't take long and you are thankful that Jack's late wife had clothes that would work. Grateful for the pitcher of water in the wash stand as you pour it into the bowl and reach for the rag and the crock of soap. You had French milled soap in your trunks, now in Judd's house and you wish you could just get your things back. Slipping into the bed, you smell him, Jack. All over the sheets, the smell of man and leather seems to surround you. Making you sigh and close your eyes, wishing he wasn't so damn handsome.

**** 

Jack hears the footsteps on the stairs, and he turns his head to see you walking into the kitchen moments later. “Mornin’ ma’am. You like coffee? Got some brewing and some eggs I collected moments ago if you’re interested.” He nudges the eggs in the steel pan.

Your eyes are barely open and it seems like Jack has been awake for hours. You had gotten dressed in the darkness and assumed you would be the first one up. "Morning comes early on a ranch." You mumble, never one for early mornings. "I will get started on breakfast right away." You promise, knowing that you need to uphold your end of the bargain.

“All done, darlin’ but you could butter the toast.” He gestures to the table where the toast is already plated and butter next to it. “There’s jelly that I purchased from the ole gal in town.” He says, “and eggs are ready. Sit down.” He orders, sliding the eggs onto the plates before he carries them over to place them on the table.

"I- I am so sorry that I overslept." You stammer, rushing. over to help him but Jack waves you off towards and enamel cup. "Pour yourself some coffee, darlin'. I've got this." He assures you and it makes you feel guilty. "I'm always up early, so don't worry about me." He shrugs. "You slept hard last night. Probably the first good night's sleep in weeks."

You are surprised by his easy going nature. Your father would’ve reprimanded you for sleeping so late. A proper lady isn’t lazy, he’d said. Judd had you up early to prepare his hangover cure. Jack watches you pour some coffee and he sips his own cup, “I’ll always be up before you. Ain’t no use you risin’ so early when I gotta feed the animals first.”

"Then at least wake me up when you leave so I can have the coffee ready when you get back." You take a sip of the coffee and sigh blissfully. "I think today I should look over the supplies you have and perhaps go over what meals you would like to have." You offer. "And inspect the garden area?"

Jack wipes his mustache and nods, setting his coffee down. “Whatever you feel like, ma’am. I would suggest goin’ into town but I don’t want word of your whereabouts gettin’ back to Judd. I can go fetch supplies or get one of the boys to do it if you make a list.” He promises, reaching for his fork to begin eating his eggs.

“Thank you.” You bite your lip. “I wish I had some way of getting my things from Judd.” You sigh softly and then pick up the platter of eggs and start scooping them onto Jack’s plate. You should at least serve him since you didn’t cook. “But I will live without them.”

Jack hums, not wanting to make promises but there might be a way for him to retrieve your things. He has a contact on Judd’s land who owes him a favor. “What things did you bring with you?” He asks, wanting to make a mental list.

You sigh again, putting the plate of eggs down and putting some toast on the plate for him. “I had two trunks.” You admit. “One was filled with books and my clothes. The other was filled with things I had made with my mother.” You smile sadly. “I never even got to wear the wedding dress she made me.”

Jack makes a mental note to make sure this contact retrieves your things but he doesn’t let that show on his face as he digs into his eggs. He reminds himself to eat a little slower and he watches you as you put some jelly on the toast that’s a little stale but he hasn’t had a chance to get some bread from the lady in town. “I’m sure you woulda looked mighty pretty in that wedding dress.”

You fluster slightly and shoot him a small smile before taking a bite of your toast. “You are a flatterer as well as a white knight.” You tease. “Do the men eat lunch as well, or just dinner and breakfast here?” You ask, wanting to get into a routine as quickly as possible. Cooking for ranch hands sounds a lot better than being in Judd’s bed and being his wife.

Jack shakes his head, "mainly breakfast and dinner. We are usually far out heardin' cattle or dealin' with the fences so we grab something to eat from the land or we wait. Usually the smokes keep us goin'." He chuckles, "they ain't fussy either. They will eat what's given to 'em."

“Breakfast and dinner.” You agree, although you might have to have some cookies or something available for the men to have. “I think that I can manage that.” You smile and pick up your fork to eat a bite of eggs. “So you have chickens. And cattle. Do you have milk cows as well?”

He nods, looking up at you as he leans towards his plate, "yes ma'am. I usually get up to milk the cows and collect the eggs. Then I move on to other duties." He explains and shoves some egg into his mouth.

“I see.” You nod. “Then you will have to show me these chores and I will take them over.” Even if you’ve never milked a cow, you will learn. Your father had sent you to this place for god only knows what reason, but you won’t wither away.

Jack chuckles at the thought of you shoveling cow shit but he nods, "whatever you wanna do, ma'am. It's my way of life. I ain't lookin' to make you shovel cow shit but I would like a home cooked meal. Lord knows my mama didn't teach me to cook. I've had to figure it all out myself after my wife passed."

“Oh.” You press your lips together. “Then it is lucky you didn’t starve to death.” You tell him, trying not to laugh at the horrible meals that must have been normal for him to learn. “I have all of my favorite recipes from our cook.” You tell him proudly. “I would haunt the kitchen and she taught me everything she could.”

He smiles at your enthusiasm, "well, I look forward to trying her recipes made by your hands. You lemme know what you need and it's yours." He promises, finishing his plate and he picks up his coffee to down it. You are still eating and he reaches into his pocket for a smoke. "I better go meet the fellas. Let you get settled. If you need anything, you holler. There's a bell on the door that travels pretty darn far if you need me. If you're in trouble, scream and use the shotgun in the corner." He says seriously, "but you should be safe here. Ain't no way Judd would have the balls to cross into my land." He promises, lighting his cigarette before he stands up and reaches for his coat.

“Oh!” You stand up with him, making him huff and wave you to sit down. “Finish your breakfast darlin’.” He tells you, sliding his arms into the thick leather coat. You wonder if it’s cow leather or perhaps some kind of game. “I will.” You promise, sitting back down and feeling a little off kilter that this man would be so relaxed about chores. Judd had expected you to drop everything to attend to him. It was why your trunks were still untouched and unpacked, you hadn’t had time to do anything.

Jack watches you as you sit back down and he reaches up to take the cigarette from his lips. "See you later, sugar." He winks and makes his way to the back door, opening it and he shuts it behind him, wanting to make sure it's locked. He will come back to check on you later, make sure you are safe and none of Judd's cronies are sniffing around. He strides towards the stables, ready to work but his thoughts have been left at that kitchen table with you.

In the quiet of the house, the only sound is the fire in the stove, you finish your breakfast. Bringing the pans over to the dish tub. You are surprised to find the water pump inside, but that is a good thing. You are not naive, you know that the conveniences you had in New York aren’t available here, but your staff had taught you how to do things the older ways, a notion that now makes you wonder if they didn’t suspect your father would send you out west. You pump the water over the dishes and start scrubbing, humming to yourself as you watch through the windows to find men and horses in the pasture in front of the barn. Your first day here. 

****

Jack removes his hat to wipe his brow, looking across the fields, and he turns to see Kieran, his ranch hand, riding up to him. "Hey boss. The fellas are hungry. Fencin' out east has been fixed." He reports and Jack nods, "let's get some grub. Little lady said she's makin' a stew." He says, "go get the others." He orders and Kieran nods, riding off to get the others and Jack begins to make his way home. He had told his hands about you, and warned them to not talk to anyone about you and to be respectful. When he steps into the house, he groans at the smell of the food, "evenin' ma'am." He removes his hat and boots, shrugging off his jacket to see you wearing his late wife's apron, standing there with flour on your cheek and he chuckles. "You have - uh - right there." He gestures to his cheek and you wipe your face but miss it. You try again and he takes pity on you, stepping closer and he carefully brings his hand up to gently wipe the flour from your face.

“Thank you.” You smile and bite your lip nervously. He’s such a broad and strong man, but his touch is gentle and kind. It makes your stomach flutter even though you know that he is still in love with his late wife. “I hope you don’t mind stew and biscuits.” You gesture towards the kitchen. “I also made cherry pie for dessert with the canned cherries you had in your larder.”

Jack is impressed especially since you claimed to have no experience in cooking. He hopes for your sake it tastes good but he will lie through his teeth if he needs to. The back door bangs open, a group of men working on removing their boots and hats and jackets while groaning at the smell of the food. "Fellas! Fellas!" Jack yells and the men freeze. "Mind your goddamn manners. There's a lady here. Take your boots off and come over to introduce yourself." He orders and the men nod, lining up to say hello.

You stifle a small laugh, finding it funny that Jack had cursed while telling the hands to mind their manners. Each man held their hats in their hands and were almost bashful as they introduced themselves to you. All respectful, you feel a pang of happiness to be here and you motion to the stove. “Please, there is more than enough and another pan of biscuits is in the oven.” You weren’t sure how hungry the men would be and you reasoned the biscuits could be saved for breakfast if they didn’t eat all of them tonight. “Cherry pie for dessert.”

The men all groan in delight and they are about to surround the stove when Jack whistles. "Ladies first." He reminds them and looks at you, "go get your plate. You cooked, you get first pick." He insists and the men stand there nodding. You bite your lip, about to protest, but Jack raises his eyebrows and you nod, grabbing your bowl to get some of the food you cooked.

You don’t serve yourself a lot, considering you had some toast for lunch. Jack huffs at you but you just smile and move to sit down at the table. “I have plenty.” You promise before motioning to them to start making their own plates. “There’s fresh coffee for the pie.”

Luckily the men had washed up in the outhouse before coming inside so their hands are clean as they scramble to grab their plates. Jack watched as you take your seat and the men join you one by one with their bowls, hunger painted on their faces. “Jack?” You call his name and he sees he’s the last one. He nods and plates his food, taking the seat the men left beside you and he ignores their glances. “Kieran, you wanna say grace?” He asks, knowing that while he may not believe in God after his wife and child were cruelly ripped from his life, some of the men are church goers and he wants to respect that.

You bow your head but your eyes are focused on Jack. He is looking down at his hands, obviously not praying and you wonder how long he had lived alone after losing his wife. The prayer is short and immediately, the men dig into the meal. Groaning at the first bites and clinking the spoons into the bowl for another hurried bite as they shovel it in.“Is it good?” You ask tentatively, hoping they are not just trying to swallow down their meal as quickly as possible because they are hungry.

The men all nod, making you giggle at their enthusiasm, and Jack sets his spoon down. “The fellas are happy to eat anything but you cook better than I can.” He says with sincerity. The men all nod again, “you’re a mighty fine cook, ma’am.” One of them says and the others all chime in with their own compliments. Before too long, they are digging into the pie and Jack chuckles, leaning in towards you, “like rabid dogs.” He has some cherry filling in his mustache and doesn’t notice.

You smirk and nod, taking a sip of your coffee. The men had insisted you take a small slice of the pie first before they dug in. Aware that they were going to eat every crumb. None of them had dessert recently. “Maybe that will change when I have a jar full of cookies around.” You hum.

The men’s eyes widen and they all nod eagerly, “fuck, I’d love that.” One of the men groans and Jack tuts, “mind your language boy.” He orders and the younger man nods, “sorry for cursin’ ma’am.”

You hum. “That’s alright.” You promise, assuring him and reaching out to pat the younger man’s hand. “I understand that you are not used to having a lady around. I don’t expect you to cater to my delicacies.” You tease, glancing over at Jack.

Jack clicks his tongue, “they need to learn. If any of ‘em wanna have a chance at gettin’ married they best be learnin’ now to watch their tongues.” He raises his eyebrows and the men all nod. The oldest man, older than Jack, chuckles his agreement. “Now, you’re gonna help the lady clean up and then be off to your beds. We got a long day tomorrow.” Jack says once the men have all finished eating.

You are surprised by that, but Jack chuckles as the hands immediately stand and start scraping plates - not that there was much on them - into the slop bucket and cleaning them in the dish tub. “You cooked, darlin’, you shouldn’t have to clean up after ‘em.” You hadn’t expected that, but you smile in gratitude. “Thank you, gentlemen.” You tell all of them. “Your future wives will appreciate this too.”

Jack watches before he cleans his own plates, leaving them on the side to dry, and he wipes his hands on the cloth as the men thank you. “I can’t wait to see what ya cook tomorrow.” The youngest one grins and Jack snorts, “lady needs a rest first. Now off with y’all.” He orders and the hands all thank you, gather their things, and soon it’s just you and Jack. “I’m gonna stoke the fire. You’re welcome to read, do whatever you want. You’ve earned your rest.” He insists, reaching for the stoker to liven up the fire.

“Thank you.” You seem to be saying that a lot since you’ve been here. “I might have looked through your shelf and chosen a book.” You admit with a smile.

Jack nods, “relax and read. I’ll get everything ready for the night.” He promises, knowing he will need to check the doors and windows, to make sure the house is secure. Jack soon sits down in his chair, grabbing his knife, and he continues whittling what he has been working on before you ran into his life. The silence between you is easy and he realizes he has been lonely and not even noticed it.

You had taken off the apron and had poured yourself another cup of coffee, fixing one for Jack as well when you settle down. He didn’t even notice when you set it by his elbow, busy with his knife and wood. Opening the dime novel, curious to see what is so scandalous about these books.

Jack looks up from his project, noticing your reading material, and he bites his lip to smother his smirk. He knows you’re innocent. Can tell in your demeanor. When your eyes widen, he chuckles softly, “interesting reading, sugar?” He asks, curious about your thoughts right now.

“Oh!” He startles you and the book snaps shut, your eyes wide as you feel your face burn. “I- I don’t know-“ you confess, although your body feels like you’ve climbed into the stove and your core aches. You’ve felt attraction before but this is that same feeling based on words. “I didn’t-“ you swallow harshly. “I didn’t know men did that.”

Jack smirks, looking back down at the knife in his hand, “I’d ask you to read it to me but that would be wildly inappropriate on my part.” He shakes his head, “whatever it is…yes we do.” He promises, not even winking as you fluster and grip the book.

“Y-you do?” You practically gasp at that and a small shiver races through your body as you imagine Jack doing that to you. “How do you know that you do it?” You whimper, leaning in slightly as you ask, afraid someone else might hear you even though no one else is in the house.

Jack looks up at you, tilting his head, "seeing how flustered you are I can only assume it's one of three things and yes, we do all three. One of them especially if you love your woman." He promises, "nothing like it." He murmurs, glancing over to the fireplace, remembering how his wife would react to his tongue on her clit.

You make a tiny squeak and close your eyes. Trying to stop yourself from picturing Jack between your thighs. “Oh.” You manage, setting the book down and reaching for your coffee with a trembling hand. “I did not know that.” You admit. “I was only married for one day and he- I mean- we didn’t-“ you bite your lip.

Jack snorts, "I highly doubt Judd would ever be willin' to do that for his lady. He's a selfish bastard. You made the right choice runnin' away." He promises, "and you didn't consummate the marriage...maybe you get it annulled when you get to where you're goin'."

“I don’t want to be his wife.” You agree. “I wouldn’t mind being a wife, just not his.” You snort, shaking your head. “The man is vile.” You lick your lips and lean forward again, curious now. “And doing that- it, it said something about doing it to you- I mean, a man?” You had caught whispers and giggles from the newly wed ladies you had been friends with, but none of them would tell you about it, saying that your husband would show you everything you needed to know. You hated that answer and you sense that Jack is only holding back because of your embarrassment.

Jack sets his knife down and turns to look at you. His face is serious as you look down at the book. “Look at me, darlin’.” He orders and your eyes meet his, “if you want me to stop, you tell me, ya hear?” He asks and you nod. He nods back and continues, “women absolutely do that to a man. Only if you want to. Everything in a marriage, in a relationship, is give and take. Boundaries. I ain’t gonna get my kicks for a woman who isn’t enjoying what we are doing as much as I am.” He assures you, “but not all men are like that. Some will take what they want without care. Some men, like Judd, don’t care about the women enjoying it. Do not give yourself to those men. You can judge it, you have already with Judd. Any man you’re with should worship you.” He raises his eyebrows, “and the intimacy becomes natural.”

You doubt that, but the way he speaks makes you envy his late wife. The way he talks, the warmth to his voice, has everything to do with her. “She was a lucky woman.” You murmur softly. “How long were you married? Before she died?” You want to ask how she died, but you don’t want to press.

Jack glances over at the pillow his late wife had made and he sighs, “she died about ten ago. We were childhood sweethearts. Married as soon as we could. We stayed with her mother until I earned enough money to buy the land. I built this house with my bare hands. We tried for a long time for a baby but we didn’t have any luck. We accepted that it wasn’t meant to be but then one day, she told me she was with child. I was overjoyed. We began to prepare our home for a new baby. Then one day-” He rubs his hands on his pants, “she went outside to fetch some eggs from the chickens. She was close to having the child, when a bullet hit her heart. Judd - he was hunting and - she was killed. Her and the babe.” He finishes softly, brought back to the moment he found her, blood pooling around her and her belly round with the babe.

“Oh God.” Your eyes start to water and you reach out to touch his shoulder. “Jack- I am so sorry.” You murmur softly, even though you had nothing to do with the events from ten years ago. His face is set, stoic, but his eyes show the sorrow and devastation he must still feel. “I wish that had never happened.”

“Me too.” He murmurs, not shrugging off your touch, “but she’s gone and I- I have been alone for so long. For the longest time I wanted revenge. I was consumed with it. I went to Judd’s house to kill him but he - he had all his men and I was prepared for a shootout but I heard my wife in my ear telling me to walk away. I walked away and I’ve been alone ever since.”

“I am grateful you listened.” You smile when he looks over at you. “You saved my life and you wouldn’t have been in that field if you had been buried next to your wife and baby.” You remind him. “Your hands wouldn’t have the jobs they have, you are not as alone as you think.”

Jack nods, knowing you’re right but he sometimes wonders how good it would’ve felt to put a bullet in Judd’s chest. “Tomorrow we will teach you how to shoot. You gotta know how to defend yourself out here while I’m gone.”

“Okay.” You nod, even though the conversation has veered off course from the original one. You know that he is worried about you and that makes you feel safer than you ever have. “In that case, maybe I need to go to bed.” You hum, putting a scrap of cloth in the book now that you’ve relocated the page and close it gently.

He nods, knowing you’ve had a long day and so has he. “You wanna use the outhouse before you go upstairs?” He asks and you nod, standing up. He guides you outside, shotgun in hand as he stands guard. Once you’re back inside, he locks the doors and makes sure the house is secure as you stand at the foot of the steps. “I’ll see ya in the mornin’ sugar.” He murmurs, hating how beautiful you look standing there in the lamplight. You ain’t staying and he wants you to be happy. “Good night, Jack.” You murmur and he nods, shifting to sit down as he works on removing his gun halter. That night when he’s laying on the couch, he swears he hears his wife say “it’s okay, Jack. You can love her.” He closes his eyes, imagining not being alone for the rest of his life.

The bed still smells like Jack and it makes you restless. Getting up and moving to the window, staring out over the pastures and wondering what it is like to live here year round. It’s beautiful in a primitive, wild way and you are stirred by it. The air is cleaner than in New York. You think about the book you had read and that same feeling builds inside you. “I don’t know if it’s right.” You whisper to the room, to the spirit of Jack’s wife. “But I’m taking care of him for you.”

**** 

“Now, you wanna make sure your fingers are only on the trigger when you are going to shoot. Otherwise you’re gonna shoot your ass off.” He shifts to stand behind you, adjusting your grip on the pistol. He’s teaching you how to shoot. Some cans on a log for targets and he hates how warm your body is against his and your sweet scent hitting his nostrils.

“I doubt that would happen.” You huff, but you make sure to keep your finger away from the worn smooth trigger. You are standing with your feet spread, wearing another one of Mary’s outfits and wishing that you weren’t so aware of how close he is pressed against you. “Aim.” He encourages you and you close one eye to aim for the can. “Breathe out and squeeze the trigger.” Jack hums and you pull back the trigger until the gun explodes in your hand and you yelp at the loud noise at the way it kicks in your hand.

Jack chuckles, knowing you’ve never shot a gun before so he grips your shoulder to keep you steady. “Try again. It ain’t gonna hurt you when you’re holdin’ it properly.” He promises, bringing his hands up to adjust your grip. “Lean into the kick back. Aim and breathe out while squeezin’ the trigger.” He orders, “try again.”

It’s so hard to concentrate when he’s breathing against your neck. His hands on your hip when he drops his hand from yours. “Steady.” He murmurs softly and you exhale softly before you squeeze the trigger again. This time the can flips off the wooden railing.

You cheer and Jack immediately keeps the gun pointed to the ground in case you wave it around. “I did it!” You grin and Jack feels like he’s been kicked in the guts, breath taken from him at how goddamn gorgeous you look when you’re happy. “You sure did sugar, let’s try again.” He orders, stepping back from you this time.

It takes you a few minutes to settle back down and aim at the next can. The next two shots are wild and Jack has to come back up to help refocus you. You take a deep breath and try one more time, hitting the can again and this time you don’t cheer, you just grin happily.

Jack smiles, happy that you are able to somewhat aim. "Good job, sugar. Just aim the gun at whatever asshole is there." He orders, "now, let's try the shotgun. That will take out anyone." He promises, wanting you to be comfortable enough with the weapons to protect yourself.

“I don’t know about that one.” You admit, eyes wide as Jack reaches for the weapon. “It looks deadly.” You make him snort out a laugh. “It’s supposed to.” He promises. “Fends off wolves and men.”

"Doesn't matter how bad your aim is, you'll kill a man." He promises, "and don't forget-" He reaches out to grip your chin so you look at him, "-it's your life or theirs. Ain't no room for mercy in these parts. Kill them without a second thought."

“Kill them.” You agree, although you know that you might hesitate depending on the situation. Jack’s eyes are boring into yours and you lick your lips. “I will Jack.” You promise after another moment.

He releases your chin and he nods, "good." It doesn't take long to position you for shooting the shotgun. "Now, the recoil is gonna be scary but relax and hold your frame." He orders, adjusting your posture.

You can feel him pressing against you but you don’t think much about it until you are pulling the trigger. The gun blasting back and if it weren’t for Jack, you would have fallen on your butt.

“Easy, girl.” He chuckles at your shocked reaction and he steadies you. “Try again. You’ll figure this out.” He promises, “you just need to focus.” He reminds you and he adjusts your form again, “just inhale and exhale.” He murmurs into your ear.

You shiver slightly but it’s not because you are cold. Holding the large weapon, you follow his orders and squeeze the trigger. “Oh my god!” You cry, the can is gone and you didn’t even drop the rifle. “I did it.”

He grins, pleased that you didn’t shy away and he squeezes your waist. “Good job, sugar.” He reaches for the shotgun, taking it from you as you grin and he nods, “now, you know what you’re doin’, I won’t worry so much when I’m out in the fields.”

“You don’t need to worry.” You promise but he just tuts. “Today I’m going to work on the garden.” You tell him. “So do I need to a keep a gun in my apron?”

Jack snorts, “not in your apron but nearby. I want you safe. You never know if Judd gets brave and comes to find you. I’ve heard he’s lookin’ for you. I gotta head into town tomorrow for supplies. I’ll find out what people know then.” He knows it’s too risky to take you with him. Someone could recognize you and tell Judd.

You nod, pulling the list he had you make out of your apron. “This is what I need.” You tell him, “if they have any penny candy, please get a bag.” You ask. “It’s good crushed up in cookies.”

Jack tucks the list into his jacket, nodding at you, and he knows you’ll have the guys wrapped around your finger if you bake them cookies. “You tryin’ to fatten up my boys?” He teases, “because they are all braggin’ about your cookin’ skills.”

“They would eat anything anyone put in front of them.” You snort, shaking your head. “But if I feed them cookies, they couldn’t possibly complain if I need help weeding the garden? Could they?” You ask the question innocently, but there is a conniving smirk on your face.

Jack chuckles, “I’m sure you’ll be orderin’ them around and they will do whatever you want as long as you keep cookin’ for them.” He promises, imagining how eager they would be for more cookies and desserts.

“Speaking of that.” You smile. “I better go make sure that the chickens are ready to put on the stove.” You are still cautious about not making enough, but so far everything has been perfect.

Jack watches you go, gun in hand, and he sighs, glancing at the cans you shot down. He prays you don’t have to use the guns at all. He hopes he can help you out of this goddamn town before it’s too late. Either because Judd finds you or you break down the walls he put up around his heart.

Coming out onto the porch hours later, you are about to ring the bell when you notice all the men waiting. Hands and faces washed, hats in hand, some are milling around the yard while others are out by your new weeded garden, obviously discussing where you will be planting. “Dinner is ready, gentlemen.” You smile. “Tonight is chicken and pastry.” It was one of your cook’s favorite meals to serve the staff since your father wouldn’t eat it, and you loved it. “With slices of spiced cake for dessert.”

They all groan in delight and Jack chuckles, knowing they’ve all been discussing all morning what the options could be for dinner. Jack didn’t ponder with them, knowing he had butchered the chicken that morning for you to use. The men all make their way inside to start serving themselves and Jack watches you as you sit down with your plate. You always serve yourself first. The men won’t allow anything else. Jack is soon sitting beside you, his leg knocking yours under the table as he eats, and he feels his stomach twist with emotion. Butterflies he hasn’t felt since Mary and that terrifies him. You are technically another man’s wife, he needs to push those feelings aside and bury them.

You had made two giant pots, and you are glad you did. Every man, including Jack, went back for big bowls of seconds. A couple of the younger guys even getting thirds. Then it was time for cake and coffee. You had learned the men loved saving the coffee for the dessert, finding it to make it feel like they were getting food from a restaurant. A rare occurrence for most of them. Thick slices of the cake were served and you wait to see what they think. Jack is the first one to groan, making your cheeks heat up because you are imagining him groaning over more than cake.

The other men quickly agree and despite eating so much for dinner, the cake is gone, not even a crumb left as they get up to clean the dishes. This is honestly the happiest you’ve ever been, feeling appreciated and useful instead of being bored to tears with gossip and luncheon dates with ladies you didn’t like. “I’m baking cookies tomorrow after you come back with the candy.” You promise.

Jack smiles, “they sure will love that.” He winks and stands up to wash his own plate. Once the dishes are dried, the men all come to say thank you and goodnight one by one. “Goodnight ma’am.” The last one bows his head after he puts on his hat and Jack ushers him out, knowing he’s got a little crush on you. “Finally.” He exhales, “time to relax.”

“Whittling is relaxing?” You ask, knowing that you should probably do some mending, you have noticed most of Jack’s clothes needing repair, but you want to read some more of the book. You had read another chapter while the cake was cooling, but it’s interesting and you need to know what happens next.

Jack chuckles, "well, there's other ways to relax but I won't mention them to a lady like yourself." He turns away from you and checks the door is locked until he makes his way over to his chair to pick up his knife and continue what he's been working on. He's nearly finished.

His words stick with you and intrigue you. Reading until he sits down again and then you stare at him. “It is relaxing?” You ask after a moment. “It seems so…physical.” You glance back down at the book. “How could you relax when it’s work?”

His eyes dip down to the book in your hand and he bites his cheek to stop his smirk. “It is work but it’s - it’s natural. It’s mind numbing and when it’s done right you’ll be melting after, mind empty except for how you feel. With the right person, it’s - it’s beyond words.”

“And how do you know that is the right person?” You demand, leaning in and your eyes flicker down to his lips before your cheeks heat up again and you have to look away. “I just- this is all so new to me. The freedom of asking is unreal.”

“You’ll know. You’ll feel it in your heart.” He promises, “it’s like nothing made sense until you met that person.” He murmurs, frowning when he realizes that he felt that way when he met Mary and now he feels that way when he thinks about you but he would never admit it.

You chew on your lip, frowning slightly because you know you’ve felt that way since you woke up on Jack’s uncomfortable couch. “I see.” You look back down at the book, sighing softly. “That’s what you had with your wife?” You already know the answer but your heart drops when he nods. “I hope that one day I have that.” You swallow. “But I fear it is not in my fortune.”

Jack frowns as he looks over at you, “that ain’t true. You’re a beautiful woman. You’ll have men fallin’ at your feet. Hell, half the fellas here would marry you tomorrow if they didn’t all insist that I-” He cuts himself off and glances at the worn rug beneath his feet. “Once we get you out of Judd’s grip, you’ll be free to love how you want.”

You frown, wondering what he was going to say. “I can’t even imagine that.” You admit softly. “Although….I am finding out that ranch life is preferable to the city.” You look outside at the last fading rays of light and smile. “It’s so peaceful here.”

“It is.” He murmurs, looking out of the window and his breath catches at how the setting sun makes you shimmer. He goes back to whittling and you continue reading. Soon, he’s completed what he was making and he softly says your name, “I made you something.” He holds out the small piece of wood that he shaped like an angel. That’s what he considers you.

“Jack-“ you are speechless as you take the small carving, looking down at the delicate wings and the smoothness of what was once a rough piece of wood. “It’s- it’s beautiful.” You don’t think about how it’s completely inappropriate, you get up and lean over him to kiss his cheek.

Jack inhales deeply at the way his skin tingles from your kiss. He turns to look at you, his cheeks a little flushed, “you’re welcome, darlin’. It’s, uh, it’s you. You’re my angel. Sent by Mary to help rescue me from my loneliness and anger.” He confesses, “I cannot thank you enough for giving me my life back.”

“Jack-“ you swallow harshly and for a moment, you are about to ask him. Your resolve fails you and you smile softly. “You saved my life.” You remind him. “It’s only fitting I help you with yours.” You don’t know what he means by giving him his life back, but you feel proud that you could help him in even some small way.

He stares at you, leaning a little closer, and he swallows harshly. “You’re - I can help you get on the train to Chicago. It’s not going to be an easy trip but you’ll be safe there. I have enough coins if that’s what you want to do. If not, I can help you get somewhere else.”

“I don’t want to go to Chicago.” You admit, breathlessly. His brow furrows, confused and you lick your lips. “I- I don’t want to go anywhere.” You have fallen in love with the ranch and everyone on it. Some more than others.

He frowns, confused at your confession and when you go to turn your head, he reaches out to cup your cheek. He doesn’t think. He just acts. He leans in to press his lips to yours. It’s wrong, you’re married and he’s older, and he shouldn’t be kissing you but he can’t help it.

You make a soft sound of surprise before you melt into his arms. The soft brush of his mustache doesn’t take away from the skill of his kiss. You’ve only been kissed by one other man and Judd’s kiss had made you feel disgusted. Jack’s kiss lights a fire in your belly and makes you moan softly when he pulls you closer.

Your response has his heart pounding in his chest and he slides his tongue into your mouth, taking advantage of your gasp when he nibbles your lower lip. His hand slides along your neck and he groans into your mouth, loving how you lean into him.

You feel deliciously wanton, but you don’t pull away. You press closer, your hands gripping his arms before they slide around his back. His tongue touches yours, making you groan again and you tentatively reach out with your own to see what it feels like.

He loves how eager you are. He slides his tongue against yours, devouring you, and he knows in the back of his mind that this is wrong but he wants you. He has since you started cooking for him. He kisses along your neck, “tell me to stop. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Don’t.” You beg, closing your eyes because you know it’s wrong, but you want him to show you those things you’ve read about. “I don’t want you to stop.” You shouldn’t be so free with yourself, but Jack is the only man who has ever heard you, really listened or cared about what you had to say. If anyone could show you how intimacy should be, it’s him. Even if he can’t love you.

Jack groans at your words until suddenly he pulls back. Your eyes flutter open, brow furrowing and he immediately stands up. Backing away from you, he doesn’t say a word as he strides to the front door and unlocks it after grabbing his boots. After shoving them on, he walks out into the night, shutting the door behind him. He turns back to look at the house for a moment until he walks off into the night.

Humiliation washes over you, making your entire body burn. He had told you that he was loyal to his wife and yet you had hoped that he would touch you. That he would show you a fraction of what a relationship between a man and a woman could be. Only to have him push you away. You rush to grab the book off the table and bolt for the stairs, ready to hide away for the night. Hoping he’s not going to tell you that you need to leave tomorrow. “What have I done?” You murmur hopelessly.

Jack walks for a while, pacing is more accurate, and he looks up at the stars. “Mary, darlin’, talk to me. She’s technically married and I- I swore I’d be faithful to you and our child.” He chokes, knowing he can’t just forget the woman he loves. The wind blows and he shivers, glancing at the trees that shake. He swears he hears Mary’s voice in his ear, curling around him in the breeze. “Be happy.” He chokes and looks up at the stars, nodding. He rolls his shoulders, deciding to make his way back to the house. He barely manages to take off his boots before he walks into the house, slamming the door behind him, and he stomps up the stairs to find you in the bed. “Jack?” You gasp at his sudden appearance and he kneels on the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks to press his lips to yours.

You gasp into the kiss, Jack taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth again but you push him back this time. Breathing heavily and looking at him in confusion. “I don’t understand.” You huff. “You-“ Jack takes your hand and brings it to his lips. “I was tanglin’ with myself, darlin’.” He admits. “You’re a married woman and I’ve never been one to mess with a married woman, but I want you.” He declares. “You need to tell me what you want, because if I touch you, it will change everything.” Your eyes are steady, searching his face as you battle your own emotions. “I am married in the eyes of Montana.” You murmur quietly. “Not in the eyes of God.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, surging forward to press his lips to yours. His tongue immediately slides into your mouth and you moan, causing his cock to stir in his jeans. He isn’t aching enough to squeeze himself and he groans, kissing along your neck as his hand slides along your side until he’s gently squeezing your breast in his hand. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He murmurs into your skin, nipping your pulse.

Your eyes widen and then slide closed as you let him touch you like no one else ever has. Not even Judd, you had run from him before he could. You trust Jack, giving yourself to him easily. Your heart pounds and you whimper when he bites your collar bone gently.

He kisses your collarbone and palms your breast, using his other hand to shift the covers from your body. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, darlin’.” He murmurs and slips the strap of your nightgown from your shoulder so he can kiss the skin there. He repeats the move with the other strap and the nightdress falls to your waist. He leans back, wanting to look at your breasts and you inhale deeply. “Fuck.” He whispers, cupping your breast, and when you moan, he surges down to wrap his lips around your nipple.

You cry out, but it’s not in pain. It’s pleasure that is swimming through your veins and making your core ache so swiftly that you press your thighs together to try to ease the need. “Jack!” Your hand comes up to his head and your fingers tangle into his hair. To pull him away, to press him closer, you don’t know. Your nipples are hard, begging for more as you whine.

Your cry has his cock pushing against the zipper of his jeans but he ignores that, loving how you tug on his hair and he groans around your nipples when you tug again. He switches to your other breast, wanting to worship you like you deserve.

Your chest is heaving and your eyes are fluttering behind your lids. It feels so foreign and yet it’s wonderful. “Jack.” You whimper softly. “I need-“ you don’t know what you need, but you need more of him.

He knows what you need. Certain that you are dripping into the sheet beneath you, and he releases your breast so he can gather the nightdress in his hands that’s bunched around your waist. He slowly lifts it up, exposing your flesh to his hungry eyes and soon you are naked in front of him. “Lord almighty. You are - you are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He murmurs, caressing your leg. “Lay down for me, sugar.” He orders and you are clearly nervous but there’s excitement on your face as you shift to lay down, head on your pillow. He shifts too, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans for some relief before he lays down on the bed and slowly pushes your thighs apart to expose your cunt to his hungry gaze. “Goddamn.” He mutters, inhaling the musky scent of your arousal as he leans closer to press soft kisses to your thighs.

He had said that men do this, but you had secretly that he was teasing you. Trembling slightly as you inhale sharply, your eyes fixed on the ruggedly handsome man between your legs. He’s devilish, smirking and winking at you before the flick of his tongue touches the most intimate part of your entire being. “Jack!”

He groans at your taste, tangy and slightly sweet. His hand grips your thigh, spreading you open even more, and his tongue slides through your folds, slowly sampling you. You look equally shocked and pleasured, making him chuckle into your cunt.

When you can move, your head falls back, staring up at the beams above you. “Oh God.” You moan softly. “I thought you were making fun of me.” You admit breathlessly. “This is- I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He pulls back for a second, “I’d never make fun of you, sugar.” He promises, groaning as he laps at you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he resumes devouring you.

“Jack-“ you choke out his name, fingers trailing down your body hesitantly. You’ve explored yourself in the dark. Always with a sense of shame and never under your nightgown but now you run your fingers over your nipples, still wet from his mouth. “What do I do?” You beg, needing to know if he needs you to do something, to participate.

"Nothin' to do, darlin' unless you wanna pinch your nipple." He orders softly, murmuring your name before he dives back into your cunt. He loves how good you taste and he desperately wants to see you fall apart for him, he needs to hear it.

It’s like he’s given you an order. Your hands, almost to his hair, drift back up to your breasts. You feel positively wicked as you touch them, hesitating for a second before you pinch the stiff, sensitive skin, making you moan as pleasure shoots through you.

He groans, cock aching in his pants and he unconsciously grinds into the sheets as you pleasure yourself. You look gorgeous and he knows he’s the devil seducing you when you are heaven sent to his door. He should leave your innocence intact but he wants you and he wants to be selfish for once.

“It- it feels so good.” You whimper, repeating the action and feeling it deep inside your womb, making another rush of heat spread. Jack flicks his tongue and laps at you like he is licking up a sticky syrup, pulling scandalous sounds out of you easily.

Jack loves how you are reacting, acting so wanton despite not knowing what you are doing. You moan his name and he groans into your flesh, his fingers trailing along your thigh until his digits find your entrance, gathering up the arousal pooling there while he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You should stop him when you feel the pressure of his fingers slowly start to break you open, but you don’t. Too busy marveling over how good the pressure on your mons feels and arching up into the cup of your hand. “Jack- I- it’s so- I don’t know-“ you gasp out, needing something, feeling your body racing towards it but you can’t put it into words.

He knows you’re close, your whines and whimpers making him suck a little harder on your clit, and he slowly pushes his finger into you. Fuck, you’re so tight. He knows he’s done the right thing when you immediately cry out, clamping down onto his digit and he swears he could cum right then and there himself.

You feel like you’re drowning. Wave after wave of pleasure rolls over you. Stars bursting in your eyes and humming through your entire body. Unable to believe how blissful you feel all because of his hands and mouth. “Jack, Jack, Jack.” His name is a chant and you swear it’s the only word you know.

He loves how you fall apart for him. The way your body shakes and your cunt clenches as you chant his name. It’s almost too much but he shifts and works you through it until you start to wiggle. He pulls back, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs after he slowly pulls his finger away from your flesh.

“Kiss me.” You beg softly, wanting to see if he tastes different with your juices on his lips. Reaching down, you stroke his shoulder and encourage him to come to you. “Please Jack.”

How can he deny you? He nods, shifting up your body until he is pressing his lips to yours. He is intoxicated by you already, sliding his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself from his lips.

You moan again. A needy, wanton sound that you barely even recognize coming from yourself. Pulling him closer to gasp in delight at the feel of his flannel shirt rubbing against your breasts.

He doesn’t push for more. You are innocent and he doesn’t want to take what doesn’t belong to him. He kisses you, shifting his mouth to press kisses along your jaw, “sugar, you gotta tell me what you want.” He orders, “cos I’ll head downstairs if you are done.” He promises, “I ain’t gonna be mad if that’s all you want from me.”

You love how he’s not trying to pressure you. Truly giving you a choice. You feel the hardness against your hip and you know that he wants you. You feel desirable and Jack doesn’t treat you like an object. “Show me what it feels like to give yourself to someone.” You demand breathlessly.

Your words have his heart pounding in his chest, his throat tightening as he kisses along your neck and you slide your fingers through his hair. He grunts when he feels you tug and he shifts to his haunches, fingers fumbling as he works on unbuttoning his shirt. He can feel your eyes on him, chest heaving as you watch him. He loves it. His cock is aching and after he shrugs off his shirt, he reaches for his pants. Your fingers twitch but he doesn’t let you take over, fingers fumbling to fully unbutton his pants until he’s pulling his cock free.

You’ve never seen a man before, not like this. Your eyes widen as you stare at the hard cock that is jutting up proudly and bouncing as he kicks his pants off. “Will it fit?” You gasp.

Jack almost chuckles at your question but he nods, “don’t worry, darlin’, it’ll fit.” He promises, “I just need to open you up a little more.” He slides his hand along your thigh, his fingers slipping through your folds.

You don’t know what he means, but you trust him. You whimper when he rubs his fingers against your clit. “That feels so good.” You admit. “But I ache.” It’s hard to describe, but he grins, knowing what you need even if you don’t. “I’ll take care of you.” He promises and you believe him. Jack has never lied to you, always taken care of you in the near month you have lived under his roof.

Jack slowly pushes his finger into you, loving how tight you feel around his digit, and when you moan softly, he decides to work another finger into you. He’s thick so you need to be stretched out for him, he can’t just slide into you.

His lips press against yours again as he starts to push his fingers in and out of your body. Making you gasp as he chuckles and his tongue slides against yours. It feels so different from the way he had touched you when his mouth was on you, but your hips rock down to push his fingers deeper inside you. Moaning when he curls them up.

Your moan has him groaning into your mouth, loving the way you are reacting to his touch. He wants to hear more from you so he pulls his lips back and watches you as he scissors his fingers for a moment, twisting his wrist until he can press his thumb to your clit.

Your fingers fly to his arm, gripping his bicep and holding firm to it while you cry out at the flash of pleasure. “Jack! Please, please…” you babble, eyes closed and breathing heavily as that now familiar feeling bubbles in your core and races through you.

He knows what you want even if you don’t and he works his fingers into you, curling them a little deeper, and your thighs shake around his wrist, making him smirk. “Cum for me, sugar.” He orders, “wanna see you fall apart on my fingers.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your jaw.

You whimper again, enjoying his attention and now he focuses on you. You had heard that some men just selfishly focus on their own pleasure, but not him. You feel cherished and almost loved as he pumps his fingers into you and murmurs encouragement into your jaw. Telling you how good you are doing got him and he’s going to show you the stars when you cum for him.

He groans your name when you clamp down on his fingers. "That's it, darlin'." He murmurs, scissoring his fingers inside you as your nails dig into his forearm. He loves it. Fuck, he's throbbing but he focuses on you, knowing that you are giving him your innocence. "You want me inside ya, sugar?" He murmurs, wanting you to be sure.

“Yes.” You whine softly. “Jack, take me. Show me what it feels like to be a woman.” You beg, wanting to know everything you can about why women giggle and whisper behind their hands about their husbands.

He nods, watching you as he shifts to kneel between your legs. His eyes watching your expression. He desperately wants you to enjoy this. He swallows harshly as he grips his cock, shuffling closer until the head is sliding through your folds. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He murmurs, watching you as you grip the sheets until your hands find his arms. “You ready?” He asks and when you nod, he slowly starts to push into you.

It’s surreal, the feeling completely foreign. He’s large as he pushes into you, but it doesn’t hurt. Not until he’s so deep inside you that he feels like he’s all the way in. “I’m sorry darlin’.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to yours and kissing away your confused frown before he snaps his hips forward and making you cry out as he breaks through your innocence.

He presses kisses all over your skin, needing to take the pain away from you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. “You’re beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.” He murmurs, caressing your side as he gives you a moment to adjust to him.

The sharp pain gives way to just a small discomfort and the feeling of being full. He coos at you softly, assuring you that it will be alright and you believe him. Finally starting to squirm under his weight, wanting to move and feel that wondrous feeling like when his fingers were inside you. “Jack.”

Your whimper of his name has his hips jerking and he braces for your cry of pain but when you moan, he smirks and slowly pulls his hips back. It doesn’t take long for him to push back into you, especially when your thighs squeeze his hips. “Feel so damn good, sugar.” He grunts, kissing along your jaw.

“I feel…..full.” You admit breathlessly. “You’re so deep inside me.” You stroke his arms and then his back. “Put your legs around me.” Jack orders softly, making you gasp out as the angle changes and he feels even deeper.

He loves how you react, your nails digging into his back but he fucking loves it. “That’s it darlin’. Let ole Jack take care of you.” He orders, starts to move slowly, watching the micro expressions on your face as he starts to fuck you.

That’s what he’s doing. He’s taking care of you. You moan softly when he pushes back inside you. It feels incredible. He starts building a pace that is starting to steal your breath as he moves. “More.” You beg after long minutes, rolling your hips up.

He kisses along your jaw, pressing his lips to yours when you gasp and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth. He shifts his weight onto one forearm, his free hand slides along your side until he’s squeezing your breast.

You feel completely boneless and powerful all at the same time. Jack makes you feel like you are flying. He absorbs your whimpers, swallowing it down. Eyes closing as he makes you feel like you’re beautiful and loved.

He loves how reactive you are, the way you gasp as he pinches your nipple. Your walls clench around him and he groans into your mouth, kissing your chin. “So fuckin’ beautiful, sugar. Feel so goddamn good. Like an angel.” He murmurs against your skin.

“I don’t think an angel would do this.” You gasp out, shuddering in pleasure and your walls clench down around his cock. You love how he groans your name, it sounds so filthy dripping from his lips.

He chuckles softly, “I’d beg to differ.” He murmurs and grabs your thigh, pushing it back towards you and you cry out at the new angle. He loves it. You’re so fucking pliable and you are moaning his name. He shivers, muscles bunching, and he wants to feel you cum on his cock.

The pace sharpens, the thrusts deeper and your back arches slightly every time he hits the end of you. Making you shiver and shake as his hair brushes over your mons and propels you that much closer to that edge of bliss you now crave. “Jack, baby- I - I-“ you wail when he punches deep and grinds his cock inside, pleasure racing through you as you shake apart underneath him.

He groans when you clamp down on his cock, your cry echoing in the bedroom, and he fucking loves it. He can’t hold back and Jack is a man who would’ve prided himself on his stamina when he was married but it’s been too long. He growls as he pulls himself free of your fluttering cunt, fingers gripping his length and frantically pumping until hot spurts of cum paint your belly.

You watch, panting as you try to catch your breath. He was protecting you from a possible pregnancy, you know enough about sex to understand that, but you feel a little disappointed that you aren’t getting the full experience. Instead of saying something, you reach out and stroke his hip.

He pants, eyes closed until he works up the strength to open them. His dark eyes burn into yours, murmuring your name. “Shit, sugar. Ain’t you perfect?” He asks softly, a rhetorical question that makes you fluster.

You look up at him, his body slumped in total relaxation and your fingers touch the now cooling pearlescent liquid on your stomach. “Was it good for you?” You ask, knowing that you loved how he made you feel, but you are eager to know if he was pleased.

He cups your cheek, stroking your skin, “it was perfect.” He promises, reaching for his shirt to wipe your skin clean, and he shifts back to look down at you. “Do you want me - I can go back to the couch.” He suggests, unsure of what you want from him.

“Stay.” You reach for him, taking his arm as if he might pull away. “Please?” You add softly. You want him in the bed next to you, especially after such a monumental moment for you. “I- I don’t want you to go back to the couch.”

Jack can’t deny you anything. He nods and reaches out to caress your hip. He shifts to lay down on the bed beside you, pulling you close so you can lay on his chest. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead, “how you feelin’, sugar?”

“Tired.” You admit with a small giggle. “Incredible. I want to do that again. And again.” You twist your head and look up at him. “Does that make me a whore?”

Jack shifts his head to look at you, making sure you’re looking in his eyes, “absolutely not. You are human.” He promises, “and I - I want to do that again with you. I haven’t - it’s been - a while.” He finishes, caressing your cheek. “I will touch you however you want.”

“The way you just did is perfect.” You sigh happily as you lean into his hand. “I had hoped to have a man who treated me with respect, and you have done more than that.” Your fingers trace over an old scar and you lay back down on his chest. “I think there’s no better man alive than you, Jack.”

He wants to protest but he knows that will ruin the moment so he kisses your hair and sighs, “I think God has the final judgement there, sweetheart.” He snorts and caresses your side as you lean against him. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and Jack remains awake, watching you sleep and wondering what the hell happens next.

**** 

You are alone when you wake up, something that doesn’t disappoint you too much as you feel across the empty bed. Life on a ranch must go on, it cannot wait for a woman to daydream about the night before. Getting up, you quickly wash in the surprisingly warm water in the pitcher and hide your own embarrassment over the pink tint to the water after cleaning away the remnants of your innocence from between your thighs. Dressing, you make the bed and rush downstairs to get started on breakfast for the men.

Jack finishes feeding the chickens and is making his way back to the house with a basket of eggs, enjoying the quietness of the early morning. You’ll be awake by now and he wonders if you regret last night. His mind keeps replaying the look on your face when you came, how goddamn beautiful you look. He can’t keep you though. Even if he’s claimed you. You’re not his wife. You’re not his and he doesn’t want to trap you when you never wanted to leave the city. He pulls off his boots on the porch, exposing his socks that have holes in them, and none of the others are here yet but he smells the coffee. Stepping into the house, he finds you in the kitchen with an apron tied around your waist. “Mornin’ darlin’.” He greets you, not coming over to touch you just yet, “got the eggs.”

“Good morning, Jack.” You feel your entire body heat up, feeling as nervous and giddy as a debutant at her coming out party. “Thank you, we are having pancakes - flapjacks - for breakfast.” You correct yourself, having some of the hand tease you last Sunday for saying it the ‘fancy’ way. “Coffee is ready.” You motion over to the pot and hope that he comes closer and kisses you before the men arrive. “Today I was planning on doing some washing and mending.” You look down at his sock with a smile. “If you will give those to me tonight, they will be fixed before you go to bed.”

Jack smiles, reaching out to touch your waist, “you’re too good to me, sugar.” He murmurs, grabbing your wrist gently to take the whisk from your hand. He sets it down on the counter and tugs you closer. Letting go of your wrist, he cups your cheek and slowly leans in until his lips press against yours.

Relieved that he is not pulling away, you completely melt into his arms. Winding your own around his neck, you moan softly into the kiss, your walls clenching around nothing when he slides his tongue into your mouth again. This feels right, it feels like home, like Jack is where you are supposed to be - who you are supposed to be with.

He pulls you closer, loving how you melt into him, and he slides his tongue against yours. Your soft moan has his cock twitching in his pants, and he pulls back after a few moments to nudge his nose against yours. “Goddamn.” He murmurs and you giggle, resting your forehead against his chest. He chuckles and kisses your hair while caressing your back. He hears the boys before he sees them and he lets go of you, taking a step back, and he winks just as the men come clambering in the door.

You bite your lip and turn back to the counter. “Flapjacks for breakfast, gentlemen.” You announce, making all of them cheer as they crowd around the coffee pot. It doesn’t take long to get all of them fed and they eat a lot. Making you smile at Jack as the scrap of forks clink against the tin plates that Jack told you were sturdier than any China. You believe it. Delicate things wouldn’t last out here and you are happy that you aren’t as delicate as you had once imagined. After they leave for the cattle, you set a roast on, wanting to make dinner special before you check your garden and then drag out the wash tub where it is kept in the lean to and build the fire outside to warm water to wash clothes.

****

Jack groans as he sits down, the men have left, fed and watered for the evening, and Jack watches you as you get a start on mending his clothes. "You happy here?" He asks after a moment, knowing you discussed you leaving as soon as he could get you a ticket back east.

You look up for a moment to smile at him before refocusing on mending his shirt. It’s been washed and dried on the line out in the yard, smelling like sunshine and grass. Another scent you associate with Jack’s musky smell. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” You admit, almost to yourself. “I- I can’t explain it. But I love working in the garden, cooking. Even mending your shirt.” You laugh at yourself. “My father thought that sending me to the west was a punishment, and it might have been if I was at Judd’s ranch, but here…..” you sigh. “I feel like I’m home.”

Jack's heart flutters at your words and he loves it. He nods, a soft smile on his face, and he watches you continue to sew his shirt. "I feel like my house is finally a home again." He confesses, "you've made me feel alive again. You've brought me back to life, sugar."

Your own heart flips and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You were very lively last night.” You tease, giggling as you tie off the last thread from the first repair on his shirt. One more little rip and this one will be as good as new. “I can only hope that you are happy to have me here.” You admit. “I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Jack shakes his head, "you ain't a burden. You're - you're heaven sent." He promises, "and I want - I was lively last night and I want you again tonight. If you want me." He adds, not wanting to assume.

You set down his shirt and look up at him again. “May I finish mending your shirt first?” You ask, smiling in jest as you nod. “I want more of you.” You agree. “As much as you will give me. I have- I have thought about it all day.” You confess. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

Jack smirks, heart fluttering at your words, and he rubs his hands on his thighs, “me neither.” He confesses, “could’ve sworn I was tastin’ you on my lips throughout the day.” You fluster and he chuckles, “I’m yours if you want me, darlin’. However you want me.”

His words make you shiver and you nod. “Anyway I can have you Jack.” You know that a traditional future isn’t in the cards for you. You are technically married to another man and Jack’s heart lies with his late wife and child. If you just warm his bed for now that is what you will do.

Your words warm him, knowing you aren’t asking for more than he can give you but he wants to give you everything. His late wife is still on his mind but the whispered words in the wind are echoing and he wonders if she would forgive him for falling in love with you. “Finish your sewin’. I’ll be here.” He promises with a wink, picking up his knife to continue whittling some wood.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. You finish the shirt and set it aside to iron, picking up the socks you had promised to darn. He has quite a few pairs that had holes in them, making you wonder who he had fixing his clothes before you showed up. Once they are all fixed so he has something to wear tomorrow, you put away your basket and stand, “I am going to get ready for bed.” You tell Jack softly. “Come up when you are ready.”

He nods, knowing you need some time to get ready and he watches you as you make your way up the stairs. “Take your time.” He says before you disappear and he sets his knife down, unable to concentrate on whittling now that he knows you are waiting for him. He clears his throat, standing up and brushing himself down.

You change into your nightgown and wash quickly, biting your lip as you tuck the blankets down on the bed. Wondering if you should just be naked and in the bed. You decide that’s better and slip off the nightgown and get under the covers. Last night you had slept naked with Jack, so it’s not like he would be surprised.

Jack slowly makes his way upstairs, the wood creaking under his bare feet, and he’s already shirtless since you’ve been fixing his clothes and washing them. He stands in the doorway in his jeans, fingers in the loops, and he offers you a soft smirk when he sees your bare shoulders. “Have I told you how fuckin’ beautiful you look?” He asks softly as he steps into the room .

You prop up on your elbows and watch him in the lamplight. “I vaguely remember something about it last night.” You admit. “But have I told you how handsome you are?” You pose. “You are a woman’s fantasy. Straight from those dime novels and into my bed. Rugged, handsome, kind…” You sit up and the sheets fall from your breasts. “Perfect.”

Jack’s eyes darken as they drift down to your breasts, taking in the ethereal sight that is you in his bed. He steps closer until he can kneel on the bed. “I ain’t perfect, sweetheart, but I sure am lookin’ at it right now.” He murmurs, surging forward to take your nipple into his mouth. Your cry makes him harden in his jeans and he switches to the other breast, biting down until he can kiss up your sternum. Your moan has him smirking against your skin between kisses until his lips press against yours.

Jack seems determined to make you see stars. He hovers over you, watching you as he draws the sheets down to completely expose your body. “Jack.” You whimper softly. “I want to touch you.”

“You can touch me however you want, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your chin, his hand caressing your side, and he trails his fingers down until he is cupping your mound. “You’re already wet. What have you been thinkin’ about?” He asks, a smirk on his lips.

“You touching me.” You admit breathlessly. “How you made me feel. Wondering if I could make you feel the same way.” You shiver, but your own fingers reach for the button on his jeans.

He chuckles, sliding his hand lower so his fingers are wet from your arousal. Caressing your folds until he slides his fingers through them. Your whimper has him aching in his pants and he presses his finger against your clit, slowly rubbing the bundle of nerves.

His buttons are difficult, but he continues to drive you mad as you try to undo them. “Jack.” You whine. “I want to touch you.” You beg, making him chuckle again.

Jack grunts when you finally manage to get his jeans undone, your fingers wrapping around his cock. “Fuck, sugar. You’re touchin’ me. You can do what you want.” He promises, rubbing your clit a little faster.

You love how his cock contrasts between hard and soft. There is a hardness that is covered in velvety soft skin. You squeeze him and giggle when he chokes out your name.

Your touch is innocent and soft but fuck, he loves it. He pants, rocking unconsciously into your hand, “fuck, sugar. Take what you want.” He orders, groaning your name again while he slides his fingers lower to push two inside you.

You lick your lips, wondering if he would react the same way that you reacted. Lunging forward pushes his fingers deeper inside you but you don’t moan as you touch your tongue to his cock.

Jack chokes on his breath when you take him into your mouth. He never expected it, and his chest heaves as he looks down at you. He withdraws his fingers, watching you as you look at him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses, “you don’t - it’s - fuck. You feel so goddamn good.”

You hum softly, not letting go of him as your tongue rolls around his cock. Tasting him the way he tasted you. Loving how he groans and chokes, you swallow and his knees buckle.

He groans your name again, watching you as you innocently discover what it’s like to have a man’s cock in your mouth. You seem to enjoy it and that makes him twitch, reaching down to caress your cheek with wet fingers.

He seems to really like this so you take your time. Your hand slowly strokes the lower part of his cock as you take him deeper. You don’t know what you are doing, just responding to his sounds. Wanting to make him feel good too.

“You like this, darlin’?” He asks, voice raspy with arousal as he watches you with dumbstruck eyes. You moan around him and he twitches in your touch, “fuck. You’re doin’ so good. You’re takin’ what you want and it’s yours.”

You feel powerful and you slide out of the bed to your knees in front of him. It’s almost as if you are praying, but this is not a conversation with God. This is something much more carnal, wicked, although you would never ask for forgiveness for this. Not when Jack is looking down at you like you hung the moon.

You have his chest heaving and he knows that you are enjoying this. It’s something he’s imagined when he has thought of you but he never expected to see you on your knees for him. You take him deeper and when you choke, “careful, darlin’.” He warns, “don’t hurt yourself.”

You pull back and swallow, feeling him twitching on your tongue from the pressure. Looking up at him as you slowly take him deeper again and swallowing. Jack groans loudly as his hips rock forward, his hand caressing your cheek and then moving to the back of your head. You are dripping onto the wooden floor but you let him guide you, showing you what to do.

He guides you, working you on his cock, and he groans when you swallow around him. “Fuck.” He breathes out, watching you as you take his cock like you’ve been doing it every night since you ran into him. “Sweetheart. I don’t - lemme touch you. I don’t want- not like this.” He chokes when you hollow your cheeks.

“You don’t want to finish?” You ask innocently after you pull off his length, your spit dripping down your chin. “No, sweetheart, I want to make you feel good.” You take his hand and stand up. “I feel like I’m on fire.” You admit softly. “Wetter. It made me ache when I was touching you.”

Jack smirks, a little smug that he makes you feel like that. “Fuck. You’re so goddamn perfect, sugar. C’mere.” He orders, grabbing your ass to pull you into his lap, his hands immediately sliding along your back. He pulls you closer, pressing his lips to yours, and he immediately slides his tongue into your mouth.

You’ve never sat on a man’s lap before, especially the way that Jack had guided your thighs around his waist. Leaving your core exposed and pressed against his hardness. You gasp, instinctively rolling your hips against him, writhing on his lap.

Jack loves how you gasp, so innocent yet so unashamedly wanton in your desire. His hands finds your ass, helping you to grind down onto his cock and he wants more from you. "Come on sweetheart. You wanna ride this ol’ cowboy?" He asks, leaning in to kiss your jaw.

“How do I do that?” You ask, eyes wide at the prospect of riding. “Is it like being on a horse?” You have ridden a horse, you are an excellent rider but you never thought about riding a man.

Jack chuckles, nodding, "it's similar. You gotta move your hips, however it feels good. I can guide you." He promises, reaching down to grip his cock and he positions himself at your entrance so you can sink down onto him.

You don’t know who moans louder, you or Jack. The way he feels inside makes him feel even bigger. Taking your breath away and the burn of his cock because of being slightly sore gives way to the pleasure. “Oh God.” You whine. “I want, I want to feel this all the time.”

Jack groans at your words, "whenever you want, I'm yours." He promises, "you're so fuckin' gorgeous." He leans in to kiss along your jaw and his hands squeeze your hips, giving you a moment until he helps to guide you rocking on his cock.

It’s slow starting, he doesn’t try to rush you. It’s a good thing, since he’s so thick and deep inside you. Your walls clench down around him every time you sink back down and your whimpers get louder as he pushes against something wonderful inside you.

"Take your time, sugar." He murmurs, caressing your back, "you're so fuckin' perfect." He coos, "takin' me like this. Keep goin'. Take what you want." He rambles slightly, kissing your neck until he cups your breast, tilting it so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

This is sinful, how good it feels. But you don’t stop, you never want to stop. Your tits shake as you start to ride him a little fast, holding on and your fingers twist into the longer curls at the nap of his neck. “Jack. Fuck.” You curse breathlessly. “You feel so good. So deep. Like you are buried inside me.”

He loves how you are gaining confidence, taking what you want from him, and he desperately wants to see you cum again for him. It’s all he’s been able to think about all day. “Fuck, that’s it. Lookin’ like you’ve been ridin’ my cock every damn night. Fuck.” He murmurs, biting down on your breast, wanting to leave a mark under the skin.

You gasp out his name, hips jerking and you start to bounce faster. Loving how rough he is with you. His hands gripping tighter and tighter until he lets go. You were going to protest when you felt a sharp slap on your ass, making you squeal. “Again, fuck, Jack.” You cry. “Do that again.”

Jack chuckles at how desperate you sound and he repeats the action, wanting to hear you moan his name again. You are frantically rocking on top of him so he grabs your hips, adjusting the pace so you can find that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes.

His grip of your hips makes you shout his name. So loudly that you think the men in the bunkhouse behind the barn can hear you. It feels incredible and you clamp down around his cock when he thrusts up into you, shaking apart in his arms.

He pulls back to watch you as you cum for him. Fuck, he loves it. He groans your name and twitches inside you but he’s not done yet. He pants and shifts, laying you down on the bed so he can hover over you. His cock still inside you, he caresses your cheek, and watches until you open your eyes. That’s when he starts to move again, rocking slowly into you.

“Jack.” You whimper his name, mouth dropping open as he starts to move. He’s looking down at you so tenderly you could cry and it makes your heart pound. You’re falling in love with Jack. You know you are. “More.” You beg, hands stroking his sides and arms as he rocks deeper. “I want everything.”

He grunts, knowing he can be a little harder this time. He groans your name, surging to kiss you and sliding his tongue into your mouth without hesitation. His hand grips your thigh, lifting it higher so he can push deeper into your cunt.

You kiss him back, giving yourself over to him as he takes control. So good at breaking you apart and making you unravel. Your moans and whines are breathed into him, Jack greedily swallowing your sounds as his hips snap forward with a singular determination

He pants your name, kissing along your jaw, and he pushes deep, needing to know you’re with him. He needs to know that you are in his bed and not leaving him yet. He doesn’t know how he’d survive losing you but he would let you go if he had to. Even if it killed him.

Your hand dives into his hair, holding tight as your leg winds around his hip. Pulling him closer as you rock your own hips up to meet his thrusts. “So good. You feel so good.” You praise, eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in and out of you. “I need you.”

Hearing you claim that you need him has him groaning your name and he hisses when your walls flutter. He knows you’re close. “Fuck.” He hisses, “you’re so fucking good.” He declares between kisses to your neck.

You whimper, making all the sounds that seemingly drive him crazy. “I want- I want to see you cum.” You tell him. “I love the way you looked when you finished.” You aren’t brave enough to ask him to finish inside you, you know he won’t because you aren’t his.

He nods, needing you to fall apart for him one more time. “Gotta look after you first, sweetheart.” He murmurs, reaching down to snake his hand between you, finding your clit. He rubs soft circles, loving how you cry out, “that’s it, sugar. Cum for me. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me.”

You can never say that Jack is a selfish man. He is too interested in making sure that you are taken care of. Your chest heaves and you watch him touch you as his cock sides in and out of your body. “I’m- I’m so close.” You whine softly, only to cry out a second later when your walls clamp down around him, soaking him as you shatter.

He groans, loving how you clench down around him. You look wrecked and he loves it. "That's it, darlin'." He pants, pulling free of your cunt and before he can grip his cock, you are wrapping your fingers around him to start pumping him. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkk." He chokes, cock twitching as he cums in your grip, hot seed spurting onto your belly and tits.

You watch him, obsessed with the way that his jaw tightens and his lips twist in pleasure. Humming softly as he pants. “I think you are so beautiful.” You murmur.

Jack smiles, heart fluttering as you look up at him like he's your moon and stars. He leans in, uncaring of his seed drying on your skin, so he can softly kiss you. "You clearly ain't looked in a mirror because you are the beauty of the house."

You reach out and cup his cheek. “Thank you.” You whisper. He might think you are thanking him for the compliment, but you are thanking him for giving you the life you have right now. He has truly saved your life.

**** 

Jack narrows his eyes as he looks up at the sky, the sun is shining as spring graces his ranch with wildflowers. He will pick some to take back to you, even with the fellas ribbing him for being a sap. He doesn’t care. He wants to be a sap for you. You’ve brought him back to life after grieving Mary for so many years. He knows she’d want him to be happy. He gathers some flowers, tying them with some string, and he is making his way back to the house when he hears your scream. Tossing the flowers, he grips the reins and kicks his horse’s side, galloping to find you, praying he isn’t too late.

“You fuckin’ whore!” You scream when Judd strikes you again, your cheek exploding with pain. Still you fight, struggling to get away from him. You had assumed the horse trotting up behind you was one of the men as you had knelt down, pulling the weeds from the two small crosses that were nestled under the tree. Mary and the baby’s grave. “Let me go!” You cry out, your wrists hurting because Judd has such a tight grip on them. If you could just get to the gun in your apron pocket. “Jack!” You scream, praying he is nearby.

His heart is pounding as he gallops until he finds you struggling against Judd Miller under the tree where his wife and child are buried. Jack wastes no time swinging off his horse, not even coming to a stop as he hits the ground running to run into Judd. He growls as he slams into him, pushing him to the ground and away from you.

You gasp, heart pounding and you stumble back from the two men fighting on the ground. “Jack!” You reach into your pocket, fumbling for the gun and bringing it out, hands shaking.

Jack pulls his hand back, fist clenched as he punches Judd. "You motherfucker! You stole my fuckin' wife!" Judd growls, headbutting Jack who grunts, stumbling back. You fumble, trying to pull the trigger, as Jack punches Judd again. Bang! You finally shoot the gun and Jack stumbles back, eyes wide. You choke, watching him with blood splattered over his face until Judd's body drops to the ground.

“I - he was-“ you drop the gun on the ground and rush over to Jack. “I thought he was going to kill me.” You stammer. “Or you. I couldn’t let him- I love you.” You are touching him, checking him to make sure that he’s not injured. “I couldn’t let him-“

Jack is shocked, looking down at Judd’s bleeding body. His eyes trail back to you, and he doesn’t think, he just acts. He cups your cheek, surging forward to press his lips to yours. “I love you. I love you.” He chokes out between hurried kisses to your lips.

You start to cry, relief mostly, but also happiness that he feels the same way that you do. Your arms wind around his waist and you sigh softly when his frantic kisses ease. “Thank you.” You whisper. “I didn’t know it was Judd. I thought you had ridden up to visit with Mary.”

He cups your cheek, eyes darkening at the cut on your cheek from Judd’s ring. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. That bastard - he must’ve been ridin’ along the fence and saw ya.” Mary’s grave is on the edge of the property and he should’ve told you to stay away from there but he didn’t think Judd would be looking for you. “Fuck. Are you okay?” He asks, looking you over for any other injuries.

“I’m fine.” Your cheek hurts but it would have been so much worse. You swallow harshly. “Am I going to be arrested?” You ask quietly. “I killed a man.” You’ve heard of murders being hung, towns making it a party as they watch them swing. “I killed my husband.” You choke out.

Jack caresses your back, trying to calm you down. "I ain't gonna let you take the blame. I'll tell the sheriff that I killed him." He reassures you, "you ain't gonna be arrested." He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“No.” You shake your head. “I won’t let you do that. He was- he was telling me what he was going to do to me when he got me back to his ranch.” Your eyes fill with tears again. “It was- I would wish for death when he got done with me.”

Jack tightens his grip on you, jaw clenching, and he exhales through his nose as he tries to control himself. “Bastard.” He growls, “he will never touch you again.” He promises, “the sheriff knows who he is.” He murmurs, “I shall ride into town. Go home. Lock the doors. I’ll be back soon.”

You nod quickly, eyes flickering over to Judd’s body and you shudder to think what would have happened if Jack hadn’t heard you scream. “I’ll- coffee will be ready for you and the sheriff.” You promise, knowing that you will be too jittery to sit still. You will probably start making cookies and pies for the men since dinner is already started.

Jack nods, leaning to kiss you softly before he pulls back. Your horse is still tied up so he swings his leg over his horse, galloping off to see the sheriff. “Judd’s what?” The sheriff asks, eyes wide in shock. “He’s dead.” Jack repeats, “he tried to attack his wife. She - she ran onto my land and told me he tried to take her with force the day after their wedding. She’s been stayin’ with me.” He explains and the sheriff’s eyebrows lift beneath his hat. “And you’ve taken her as your own?” He guesses from the way Jack is acting. “I love her.” He confesses, “we both know Judd was a monster. He would’ve killed her like the last one. She did all of us a favor.” He snorts and the sheriff’s nods, knowing he’d be happy to have Judd off his back even if he will miss the coins.

“Guess I should go speak to her.” He sighs, dropping his boots off his desk and groans as he grabs his hat. “You plannin’ on marrying her?” He asks. “Judd’s ranch is nice little piece and she’s gonna get it. He didn’t have no family.”

Jack didn’t even think of that. Didn’t even care about obtaining more land but it would be yours to decide what you want to do with it. By proxy, Jack would own it as your husband but it would always be yours. “Goddamn.” Jack murmurs, knowing that Judd has gold stashed on his land too. He was a mean bastard. The sheriff and Jack ride back to his ranch, finding you in the kitchen. “Darlin’.” He calls out, knowing you must be distracted as you mix something in a bowl.

You yelp, not even hearing Jack come in. Whirling around, you press a hand to your chest. “Jack.” You whimper in relief before noticing the man standing next to Jack with a shiny star pinned to his chest. “Sheriff.” You had met the man when he had married you and Judd as soon as you stepped off the train. A pathetic little ceremony in the office in full view of the cells where drunkards and thieves slept. “I- I was making cookies for the men, in case…..” you trail off and look back at the table where nearly a dozen pies were sitting as they cooled. “Could I get you some coffee?” You ask the sheriff, aware he might have some questions.

The sheriff nods and Jack gestures for him to sit down at the table which he obliges, taking a seat next to Jack. “So little lady, you wanna tell me what happened?” He tilts his head after setting his hat down on the table.

You pour two cups of coffee and bring them over to the table before going back to get plates and a knife. If they are having coffee, they might as well have a slice of pie. “I was at Mary and the baby’s graves, visiting and pulling weeds.” You were asking her to forgive you for falling in love with her husband, but the sheriff doesn’t need to know that. “When I heard a horse, I thought it was Jack, so I didn’t turn around. Before I knew it, I was being pulled to my feet and slapped, Judd was screaming horrible things at me, hitting me.”

The sheriff knows about Judd, how he’s treated women in the past. Hell, he was there the day the man shot Mary. He nods softly, knowing that no one would miss Judd, not even his own ranch hands. “Well…it sounds to me like you acted in self defense. Something that isn’t punishable by the law. You were his wife. You now inherit his land and you are his widow. No longer married in the eyes of the Lord.” He explains and Jack’s eyes widen at the realization. He looks at you, scrambling to stand up, “marry me.” He demands, “right now. I wanna marry you. Want you to be mine officially.”

You are startled, gasping as he reaches for your hand. “Jack-“ you choke out. “What about Mary?” You ask but he shakes his head. “I’ll love her forever, but she’s gone, baby. She’s not here and I’ve-“ he pulls you closer. “I’ve fallen in love with you. You are my future, my happiness.” He coos. “Marry me?” He asks again, softly this time and you melt. Looking over to the sheriff, you ask, “can you marry us now, or do we have to wait?”

The sheriff chuckles, nodding as he stands up, the chair scraping. “You can be married now in the eyes of the Lord. You wanna do this here?” He asks, looking around and Jack looks towards you. “Here or the garden?” You smile, “the garden.” Jack nods, taking your hand to guide you outside. He doesn’t have a ring but he can get you one, wanting you to have everything. You’ve saved him. He takes your hands, standing beside the garden you’ve been cultivating, and the sheriff puts his hand on his head, reaching into his jacket for his bible.

You are nervous, squeezing his hand as he stands beside you. Tall and steady, making sure that you are taken care of. You trust Jack completely, knowing that he won't be like Judd, he wouldn't make you afraid for your very life. "I love you." You murmur softly, looking over at him with a surety that makes you proud to marry Jack.

Jack winks at you as the sheriff begins to explain what marriage is. Jack looks at the sheriff, "we are both widows. Can we skip to the vows so I can kiss my wife?" He asks and the sheriff snorts while you giggle. "Do you, Jack Jameson Daniels, take this woman to be your wife?" He asks and Jack smiles, squeezing your hand, "I do." The sheriff asks you the same question and you nod, "I do." He sighs and shuts his bible, "then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your-" He doesn't get to finish before Jack is surging forward to press his lips to yours.

You giggle against his lips, kissing him back and throwing your arms around him while he spins you around. Feeling happy and lighthearted. You are a married woman again, this time to a man who you love that you want to be with. You won’t be running from him.

“I’ll register Judd’s death and then register the marriage.” The sheriff declares, “now don’t be shootin’ anyone else, sweetheart.” He orders you and you lean into Jack’s chest. “I promise.” You grin and Jack squeezes your waist, “now git so I can make love to my beautiful bride.” Your newly minted husband orders the other man who chuckles and tilts his head. “Have fun kids.” He makes his way to his horse, making a note to have his deputy come collect Judd’s body later. Jack surges forward to kiss you again, groaning into your mouth, and he ducks down to wrap his arm around your knees, lifting you into his arms.

You squeal, then throw your head back and laugh as Jack turns towards the house and carries you. “Jack!” You wrap your arms around his neck and smile. “I can walk.”

He grins, "not over the threshold. It's bad luck and we ain't needing any more of that shit." He declares and you giggle, clinging to him, and he kicks the door open. He carries you into the house and sets you down, his hands sliding along your body.

"Does this mean you will.....finish inside me?" You ask, biting your lip as you look into his eyes. "I- I want to feel my husband inside me as he cums."

Jack nods, cock hardening in his pants at the thought of filling you up with his cum. He loves how eager you look and he kicks the door shut, taking your hand so he can escort you up the stairs. Your baking is abandoned as he focuses on you, his wife. When you’re upstairs, he turns you around so he can slowly start to unlace your dress. Leaning down, he presses kisses to your neck, “so goddamn beautiful.”

“You are just being sweet to me because I married you.” You tease, practically glowing because you are now Mrs. Daniels. Tilting your head so he can have more access to you, it’s tortuously sweet and yet it feels like your dress is falling off your body in a second.

When your dress falls, his hands immediately cup your tits, gently squeezing them in his palms, and he groans as he kisses more of your skin. His impatience wins out as he spins you so he can duck down and take your nipple into his mouth.

You whine, eyes closed as your fingers bury into his hair. You know that he will make sure that you are breathless and satisfied by the time you are finished but this time is special. This is sealing the vows that you just made to each other. “Husband.” You whimper. “Please.”

Jack hasn’t been addressed as husband for so long but hearing you say it has his heart pounding in his chest. “Fuck.” He murmurs against your skin, shifting to kiss down your stomach until he is kneeling before you. You’ve brought him back to life and he desperately needs to show you that, to worship you. He groans your name, shifting to lift your leg onto his shoulder, and he groans when your scent hits his nose.

You know he wants to put his mouth on you again, making you shudder at the thought. He loves it and you are grateful that his pleasure is so tied to your own. He isn’t greedy or selfish with his touch. “Jack.” The first touch of his tongue has you pitching up off the bed, hips lifting to his mouth. “God!”

He smirks against your folds, loving how you moan, and he eagerly laps at you. Your tangy taste is one he can sample for the rest of his life. “Fuck.” He grunts as he pulls back, using his thumbs to spread your folds before he dives in with a groan.

He drives you out of your mind. Licking and sucking, teasing you with the curl of his tongue against your sensitive flesh. You know that it’s positively wicked but you don’t care, it feels amazing. Pulling moans out of you every time he flicks his tongue against your clit. “Oh God, I can’t-“ you gasp out. “I’m gonna-“ you keen, feeling stars burst behind your eyes and you shake apart for him.

It’s the quickest you’ve fallen apart for him and he thinks it’s a combination of his love for you and the fact that you belong to him. He loves how you cry his name as he laps at you, working you through it, and his cock is throbbing with need for you. “Lemme be inside ya, sugar.” He rasps, shifting to his haunches to work on unbuttoning his shirt.

“Yes.” You lunge up, helping your husband undress, wanting to see and feel his strong body. He had cleaned Judd’s blood off his face at some point, so you lean in to press kisses along his jaw, nipping the skin.

He grunts when he pushes his shirt off his shoulders and your hands fumble with his belt until finally you wrap your fingers around his hard cock. “Fuck. Let me-” He chokes, shuffling and nearly falling forward as he pushes his pants down, kicking them off. He shifts to hover over you, his hand caressing your side, “my beautiful wife.”

“Make love to me, Jack.” You demand. “I’m already yours but I want you to erase the fear.” You reach for his shoulder to pull him closer. “I was so afraid when Judd found me. Afraid I would never see you again. Afraid that you would think I had just left you.”

He nods, gripping his cock to position himself at your entrance. His dark eyes meet yours as he slowly starts to push into you. He groans your name, kissing along your neck as he stretches you out.

“You feel so good. So big inside me.” You moan softly. You don’t mention his name, but Judd’s cock had been something small, pathetic when he had pulled it out that day you fled. You couldn’t imagine feeling like you do right now with him. “Like you are so deep inside me I don’t know where you begin and I end.”

Jack loves hearing you talk like this. He groans, “that’s right. Only I can make you feel like this. Only cock you’re gonna have is mine.” He murmurs between kisses. “I love you, sugar.” He grunts, starting to rock into you.

“I love you, Jack.” You close your eyes as he starts to make the bed creak as he pushes in and out of you. It’s a rhythm that seems as old as time but it’s still so new to you. Your legs wrap around his waist and he groans in pleasure when your walls clench down around him.

No more words are spoken as he rocks into you. There's no rush, no worry, nothing hanging over your head. Just the two of you and the future shining bright ahead. "Fuck. You feel so good, sweetheart." He murmurs, reaching down to slide his hand between you so he can rub your bundle of nerves.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, making you whine as he expertly drives you mad. “I want to feel you.” You gasp. “I want to feel you deep inside me when you cum.”

He groans, “that’s it sweetheart. You need to - fuck - cum for me.” He demands, “cum first and then you’ll feel me.” He promises, rocking into you a little harder.

You pant into his mouth, nodding as your eyes slip closed again. Letting him completely overwhelm your senses. “Jack-“ you bite your lip and rock your hips down, feeling your body fly to the edge of bliss so quickly under his talented hands.

He groans as you squeeze him, lost in the feel of your cunt gripping his cock and knowing he doesn’t have to pull out of you to spill his seed onto your belly. He moans your name, “gonna - gonna cum.” He warns you, wanting you to be sure.

“Yes, baby.” You moan, cunt clenching harder in anticipation. Wanting to feel what it is like to be filled for the first time. “Cum, I want to see you.” Eyes open, you caress his cheek gently. “Make me your wife completely.”

He clenches his jaw, watching you and he pants your name, desperate to fill you up, make you his in every way. “Fuck.” He hisses, dark eyes focused completely on you. “I’m gonna - I’m gonna - shit.” He growls, pushing deep as his cock twitches, chest heaving and eyes squeezed shut as he paints your walls.

You whimper, feeling the heat filling you. Flooding your womb and it gives you the sense of completion you had never expected to feel. Like this is what was supposed to be when you climbed onto that train. “I love you.” You whisper, kissing along his jaw as he rocks into you, riding out his pleasure.

He collapses onto you, shifting his weight to his forearms so he doesn’t crush you. His lips press against yours, tongue sliding into your mouth as his entire body buzzes. He loves you so much. You’ve saved him. He never imagined that inspecting the fence on the edge of his property with Judd Miller would lead to him finding the woman who would save him from his solitude. “I love you too, Mrs. Daniels.” He murmurs and you giggle, caressing his back. “The boys will be here soon for dinner.” You sigh when you are curled around him, his hand caressing your thigh. “They can serve themselves.” Jack growls, squeezing your ass and leaning in to kiss your neck. Your squeal makes his chuckle. His house is a home once again.

[hpowellsmith]

Hey Harris, do you mind asking your wife a question for me lol, I can’t find her tumblr anywhere or else I would’ve asked myself.

I’m playing Asteroid Run and can’t seem to get the “It’s the uniform” achievement or the “Romance the office man” or whatever it’s called- I’m trying to 100% the game.

Anyway I hope you both know how much I admire your writing.

Take care

Hello! My wife doesn't have a Tumblr so feel free to message me with things about her games. I get to scurry up and give her the gift of a lovely compliment or a question about something in her work.

I hope this is useful! Thank you ever so much for your kind comments.

It's the Uniform: Gain a Commission

In Chapter 7, agree to make a deal with T-PES.

In Chapter 8, ask Katja to join Solib, then state that you want to be a double agent. Take the transponder with you when you leave.

In Chapter 10, make a distraction. The scores for this are complicated!

You need T-PES Strength to be as high as possible, and Solib Fervor to be as low as possible so if there are points earlier in the game that contribute there, choose them - you may need to look at the code for this, or just keep an eye on the stats page.

Distraction using an illness either needs Shiori with you, or:

Sabotage the air filtration (needs Solib Anarchic >= 60)

Steal an emetic (needs Solib Recruitment <= 40)

Trick a medic (needs Solib Leverage >= 60)

Distraction using the engine either needs Dylan with you, or:

Sabotage the fuel (needs Solib Anarchic >= 60)

Break fuel injector array (needs Solib Recruitment <= 40)

Trick an engineer (needs Solib Leverage >= 60)

Distraction using a riot either needs Dylan with you, or:

Announce that we should cut and run (needs Solib Anarchic >= 60)

Start a rumour about mutiny (needs Solib Fervor <= 40)

Everyone's on hair trigger (needs Solib Aggressor >= 60)

In the final chapter, you'll get offered to join T-PES - accept it and the commission.

Silver Fox: Romance the company man

Don't commit to a romance earlier in the game.

Become governor or interim governor on Vesta Station. This is really complicated and I'm not entirely sure whether I've got everything listed, so I'm sorry if it doesn't end up working fully!

In the aftermath, choose one of:

Get stuck in on Vesta Station and help out (needs Isolationist Shipping Lanes >= 60)

Help Vesta Station with supplies (needs supplies >= 60)

Direct people to supply caches (needs cache maps >= 60)

Rally refugee ships (needs Isolationist shipping lanes <= 40)

Focus on crew (needs morale >= 60)

Saving the Elegant Glider, being the lead in saving the station, and low damage to the station will all contribute to your chance to being offered the governor position. When people are talking about who should be the next governor, choose one of:

I've respected the right of the shipping lanes (needs Isolationist Shipping Lanes >= 60)

I've contributed to the caches, helping people (needs cache maps >= 60)

I saved Vesta station (needs low damage to the station and high shipping strength)

You can also become governor if you're with T-PES. Technically you can become governor as Solib, but I doubt that would be compatible with romancing Victor.

Name Victor your advisor. Then you can meet with him afterwards.

[butchyena]

people who are willing to undergo surgery are so fucking strong lol surgery terrifies me for having had. way more surgeries than some ppl i know

[burningcomputerpersona]

my cds (and cassette tape) finally arrived in the mail today!!

[goaskangel]

boyfriend!suguru finally fucking you!

cw : dark themes, reader is implied to have a toxic ex, gross n pervy suguru, taking advantage(?), first time fucking, shame and humiliation

word count : 1k

suguru couldn’t even compare to your ex-boyfriend. his features much too perfect. his long, inky locks that drape down upon him like a statue; clean shaven face and a pale complex complimenting his black hair. tall, broad body that almost seems unreal. 

no matter what he wore, whether it be casual wear or his lushful silk robes, which he promises are for his great-motivated, good-intentioned religious group, he just looks absolute. 

so good to you too, a man of masculinity and delicacy. understanding and reassuring, often guiding you with his soft words. not at all manipulative, you tell yourself. more encouraging. he's knowledgeable; people come to him with their problems, so how lucky are you for him to choose you? you find your heart swooning over him, like your former boyfriend’s exploitation and misuse all disapeeared. suguru does so much for you. 

you can’t help but open up to him. his almost paternal instinct towards you is intoxicating, so comforting. he deals with your past mistakes and engraved trauma so gently, telling you it’s not permanent, that growth’s the only way out. his sweet face smiles softly, nodding in reassurance. his eyes showing real worry and compassion. 

the day comes, when you tell him you want him, his gaze shows something immoral. 

he wastes no time, god forbid you change your mind! his lips find yours impatiently, his usual soft holds feeling more like gropes, possessive and needy. his larger and dominant frame pushing you towards your shared bed before kissing you. getting you ready with your head timidly resting on fluffed pillows, suguru’s body between your thighs. 

his flowing layers of fabric coming undone slowly as he reveals inches of his skin piece by piece. you admire the sight with the anxiety bashing behind your eyes. having been sexually intimate wasn’t a part of your agenda after your ex, the fear of being hurt and used threatening to prick your waterline. 

no, no, your suguru wasn’t like that. much too confident and sweet to even dare about touching you like that. 

but unknown to you, his solo orgasms would only come to the thought of you. his distressed, pretty baby craving just love and affection after what happened and god, did he wanna give it to you. days of fisting himself to the thought of the fear and lust in your face when he finally gets his hands on you, and here you are beneath him. 

he peppers kisses on your neck as your hands push up against his chest, his big hands snaking their way to rid you of your clothes. left in your bra and panties, slightly shaky. 

“scared?… don’t be scared, pretty.” he hovers over you, intoxicating you with all of him. burly muscles and sensual bronze body, long hair and a lustful musk. he strokes the side of your face and kisses your lips. 

you can’t speak, too overwhelmed with the sight so you gaze down at the little space between your bodies. watching as he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and tossing them. you want this but you can’t help but close your legs, keeping your fidgety hands delicately under your breasts. he takes this time to unravel the rest of himself, his cock finally unconfined and unbelievably hard. you shudder, your stunned look coming back to look at him. hungry and mean, suguru’s sly gaze coming face to face with you as he forces himself back between you, “yeah, there it is.” his fat tip brushing up against you naturally. you whine at the exposure but he shushes you, sitting up properly to get into a more controlled missionary. 

“sugu…” you wince at the tight grip he has on your thighs as he lines himself up, your mumbled words going unheard. 

satisfied but still longing, he lets out a groan that goes straight to your core when he pushes himself into you. your clamping down onto him, tight and wet. so, so hot as he fucks his heavy cock into you. his pace hitting you deeply, a sudden wave of embarrassment and shame comes through you. shame from enjoying this again, so stupid but it doesn’t matter–he’s yours and you’re his. you repeat that in your mind until he speaks, 

“yeah, that feels real good, huh?” cooing down to your neck again, whispering, “he fuck you like this, mm?” 

you tense up, unsure fingertips grazing his wide shoulders as you stay speechless. 

“such a tight pussy, must’ve had some fun breaking you open.” 

“oh–god–” shame, shame, shame.

“this how he did it?” his teeth threatening against your ear as he fucks his hips into you throughly, “while you were cryin’ and beggin’. mmm, he told you to stay quiet? yeah?” 

your eyes water, your hold on him getting tighter as you hide in his neck. “shh, shh.” teasing you, humiliating you, when you sniffle. 

“stay quiet for me, girl. be quiet an’ it’ll all be over soon, okay?”

“suguru, please…” 

“mhmmm.” he humps himself into your very aroused cunt, the obscene sounds could’ve made you moan aloud if it weren’t for his words. he presses open mouth kisses onto your flushed cheeks before pushing his tongue into your mouth. your already troubled breath hitching again as you swirled saliva into each other’s faces, your boyfriend’s large tongue fucking your mouth. 

when he pulls away, to get a good look at you whilst still rocking his hips, he catches a glimpse of you blinking away hot tears. catching your breath with glossy eyes and a tight grip on him. 

“don’t cry, you feel good, baby. c’mon now,” grinning and thumbing the wet stripes away.

“you take my cock so well, jus’ what you were made for, hm?” 

you pout your shiny lips and nod, slowly getting dazed as your orgasm reaches you. his dirty, perverted words getting you the closest you’ve ever been so quick. his groans and breathing picks up when he feels himself getting to the edge. 

“so perfect for letting me do this to you, haah–perfect, perfect girl.” bucking his strong body into you before fucking a fat load directly at the surface of your sweet cervix, your wet walls coming right on his cock, practically sucking every drop of his seed into you. eek you really are so perfect for him!! 

masterlist

[hedgehog-moss]

Tiny chicken update: I've been taking her out of the coop at apéritif time to let her spend some supervised time with the older hens and it's been going well :) When they try to bother her she hops onto my lap, which she seems to perceive as a safe place. And she continues being very unfazed by Pandolf.

I felt encouraged by her growing temerity, and decided to provide her with some enrichment in the greenhouse today. There are two planter boxes at the back that are chaotic messes of overgrown lettuce, parsley, and rocket, bravely trying to survive amidst a jungle of weeds. I'm going to clear them out and plant courgettes and stuff now that it's spring, but I admit that this winter I just forgot about them. I had two beautiful Potemkin Planters at the front of the greenhouse, with well-cared-for lettuce and coriander that my guests could see and admire from outside, and no one needed to know about the Shame Planters at the back.

I thought a Lettuce Jungle would be a interesting environment for a tiny chicken to explore, and it didn't matter if she damaged any plants in there.

To make her journey more thought-provoking, I added a few Creatures.

I then decided to hold a Zhuazhou ceremony of sorts, like when a baby is given various items to choose from and the one they pick is supposed to predict their personality or future career.

I'm excited to learn more about this tiny chicken's true self! Will she pick the fox, or the monkey?

She seems to be drawn to the f—ah, no.

She picked the lettuce.

Future career: Chicken 🎊

Next, I decided to test her audacity. Will she be brave enough to steal a cherry tomato from the prongs of the blue glittery jackalope?

Fair enough. I brought her back to the first planter with the creatures she'd already met and seemed less freaked out by, and offered her one last, fairly easy test of intelligence: while she wasn't looking, I put some grain at the bottom of a small pot. Would she find it?

At first she mostly looked suspicious. (Which is a sign of intelligence.)

But then she figured out that there was food in there! I'm proud! 😊

And then, suddenly,

I thought the way she hid behind a tall lettuce to observe and evaluate the threat was really cute. And ingenious. But that was enough emotion for today, and besides, Morille was a completely unauthorised creature in my safe jungle simulation for tiny chickens, so I brought the hen back to the safety of the coop.

And then looking at all my photos made me feel ashamed of the anarchic state of my Back Planters so I (finally) started dealing with them—and while removing the soil to add a new layer of compost I found a large beetle larva. To avoid any accusations of favouritism I'd like to point out that I went to offer it to my other new hen, the one who's older and has been a bit neglected (in my posts) so far. She was delighted.

You can sort of see the larva in her beak here—she grabbed it and immediately ran like hell to avoid having to share it with anyone. Like a true chicken.

[kissbyoon]

⠀𖼥ৎ⠀“shared seasons” ₍ k.mg ₎

───── ABOUT a glimpse of a perfect life with the love of your life

⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: domestic fluff, humour, slice of life, comfort ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf!mingyu x f!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, kissing, petnames (baby), mentions of food ⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 3.3k

A/N: tysm anon for requesting! lmk if you like this !! ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

“Gyu, where's my toothbrush?”

Mingyu stopped brushing his teeth and turned his head to look at you—who is looking around the sink in search of a toothbrush. He points towards the mug where both of you usually put your toothbrushes.

“It should be here—” he paused, eyes widening as he pressed his lips into a thin line. The toothbrush that was in the mug was his.

With a look of disbelief and disgust, you stared at your boyfriend, who tried his best to hold in his laugh.

That meant yours was…

“Kim Mingyu!!!” you yell, reaching out to smack his shoulder, but he swiftly moves away with a giggle. “That's so— ew!” You whine, pointing at the toothbrush in his mouth.

Or should you say, your toothbrush.

“I took this by mistake! It's not a big deal!” Mingyu tried to protest.

“It is a big deal! I don't have a spare one and we have 40 minutes to get ready!”

“You have this,” he leans over with a sly smile, pointing to his toothbrush resting in the mug—slowly leaning away at your glare. “C’mon, baby, it's absolutely fine and normal between lovers.” He adds, continuing to brush his teeth with your toothbrush.

“Right,” You sigh, reaching over to grab his toothbrush instead. With a glance towards Mingyu’s direction—who was busy admiring himself in the mirror—you take the toothpaste and apply a small amount.

“It’s called a symbol of love.”

Mingyu snapped his head to look at you, eyes widening with surprise as his lips curved into a huge grin. “You're really going to use that?” He chirped, like it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Well, nothing was more wonderful than witnessing your love start to become just like you.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask with a giggle as you begin to brush your teeth. Meanwhile, Mingyu kept giggling and stealing glances at you—soon turning a bit clingy as he reached out to hold your hand.

—

Just like that, both of you freshened up and started to get dressed for the hangout. The weather was just like any other perfect night—the beginning of spring with a tolerable amount of cold.

So, according to that, you decided to wear your favourite top with a cardigan and baggy trousers. But now, the most difficult choice—accessories. With the collection you have, it’s fair to say that it feels overwhelming to choose a single one and it makes you want to take all of them with you.

However, your boyfriend knew just what would suit you the most. So, taking your favourite set of earrings, you call out for him.

“Gyu?”

He immediately looks up from his phone, waiting for you to continue. You walk towards him, staring at the earrings in your hands with a frown.

“Which one looks better?” You ask, and he gently grabs your hand to look at the earrings. For a few seconds, he examines each of them with furrowed eyebrows before grinning.

“This one,” he says, taking his chosen pair of earrings from your hands before standing up to his feet, looking at you with an adorable grin.

“Does it look good?” You ask, still a bit hesitant. He immediately nods.

“Ofcourse it does, you look good in anything.”

Your lips curve into a smile at that, and you try to shrug it off. “So corny,” you giggle, but deep down he knows you love it when he compliments you like that. Which, by the way, is an everyday thing.

“I’m just romantic, you're not,” Mingyu pouts, shining his puppy-eyes at you. You scrunch your nose amusedly before tiptoeing a little to peck his lips.

“I'm more romantic than you, baby.”

You notice the way his eyes lit up when you kissed him, and regret doing so as a hint of mischief returned to them.

“Do it again, then I'll agree.” He demanded, pointing to his puckering lips.

“No, my kisses are expensive!”

“Says the one who kissed my whole face the whole day because I brought her a bouquet of crocheted flowers.”

“You're annoying.”

“You love me.” He grinned more when he noticed the way your lips showed the tiniest hint of a smile. Before he could form his next words, you reach out to cup his cheeks before pecking his lips again.

“There,” you say with a smile before rolling your eyes as he winked at you. “Now, allow me to get ready, we're already late.”

—

Surprisingly, both of you weren't ‘late’ to the hangout. Or more like, the party hadn't started without you two.

The whole night stretched out for hours and hours, leaving you extremely exhausted and sleep-deprived. And it would be fair to say you were a bit tipsy, because of all the excitement that rushed over you. While Mingyu refused to drink because he wanted to take care of you.

Ofcourse, he was the first one to notice your exhaustion and he knew that you do not want to be here any longer.

Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed outside with Mingyu guiding you gently—one hand on the small of your back and another one holding your hand. As you reach the parking lot, you squint your eyes, trying to spot Mingyu’s car. But it was nowhere to be found.

“Where's your car?” Slightly slurring, you ask. Mingyu glances at your direction, closing his eyes tightly when he remembered that Wonwoo had requested to borrow his car just before he left the party.

“Wonwoo hyung borrowed it for today,” he says, causing you to pout.

“Are we gonna walk all the way—”

You pause, staring at Mingyu who crouched down infront of you, his back facing you.

“I'll carry you.” He says, looking over his shoulder. You shift your weight from one foot to another, shaking your head.

“No… I've gained weight. We can just walk there.”

“What do you think this is for, baby?” He asks, proudly flexing his biceps with a smirk. “And it doesn't matter if you gained weight. I don't go to the gym for nothing.”

That made you giggle. He was right.

“Okay.” You mutter, carefully placing your hands on either one of his shoulders and leaning over while his arms hovered around your back to prevent you from tripping.

“I'm gonna stand up, okay?” Mingyu says softly, and after you hum in response, he slowly gets up to his feet, careful not to startle you. You wrap your arms around his collar, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder, seeking warmth.

“Comfortable?” He asks, slightly turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. You nod, letting out a contented sigh.

As he confirms that, he starts to walk ahead, always making sure to check whether or not you were asleep when it got too quiet. The streets were quiet, only the faint whoosh of the breeze audible—as if the world wasn't moving and only you and Mingyu were awake at this hour.

Well, to be very honest, that could be the case. Because it already had been past 2AM by the time you both reached your shared apartment.

Mingyu guided you inside, sat you down, handed you a glass of water, removed your makeup, helped you get changed into something much more comfortable, and now, laid you down on the bed, tucking you under the warm and comfortable sheets.

All these without a single complaint. Just soft and gentle words that didn't even sound judging. It didn't sound like he was mad at you for being a bit tipsy, like he was mad at you for being unable to do basic things by yourself in this state. No. He helped you with everything without a single question.

Mingyu quietly laid down beside you, refusing to take his part of the blanket when you told him to do so. He wasn't going to take it. Not after he realised how you were shivering in the cold and your hands felt like it had been touching snow in a harsh winter. And he wasn't feeling cold anyway.

“Give me your hand,” his voice tender and patient, he took your cold hands and grabbed a hot pack before placing it between your hands and wrapping his own hands around yours. You stared at him as he did all that, feeling a rush of emotions that caused your heart to feel heavy.

“Did you go to winter wonderland without me, baby?” He joked with a smile to lighten up the mood when he noticed how quiet you were. He raised his gaze to look at you, his eyes immediately softening when they met yours that shone with unshed tears.

Letting go off your hands, he scooted closer, placing a hand on the back of your head. “Baby? Did you not like my joke? I'm so sorry, please don't cry—”

“I love you, gyu,” you breathe out, your eyes never leaving his. Those words, at that very moment, hit his heart like the cupid's arrow. Like the very first time you had uttered those words. For him.

For a second, he wanted to run away when he felt his cheeks heat up and his heart skipped a beat. But then, he wanted to hug you and never pull away.

“I love you more, though.” He says, his lips instinctively curving into a smile when he saw a grin on your face and heard the chuckle you let out.

“Are we competing now?” Mingyu nods at that, his hands trailing down to wrap around your waist as he pulls you closer to cuddle.

“We have to,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper and his eyes glimmering with nothing but admiration and love. He leans over to bury his face in your neck. “Because I do love you more.”

“This is unfair, I'm too tired to argue, gyu.”

“Does that mean I win?”

“No, I'll get you tomorrow.” You declare, causing him to giggle.

“Hm, okay,” with a lingering kiss on your shoulder, he leans away and lets you cuddle up against him as he engulfs you in his arms.

Just when he feels your breathing begin to steady and your expression becomes peaceful, he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, whispering a ‘I’ll still win tomorrow’

Lucky for him, you were long asleep by then.

—

Last night was so exhausting to the point your brain went blank, and Mingyu too, got so lost in admiring you and both of you completely forgot that today was an extremely important day for you at work aswell as for him.

Because you had to submit your work to your team leader, and Mingyu had an important business meeting to attend with another company.

Well, the reason for Mingyu was clear and true—he doesn't want to leave you alone in that state and it's actually your fault for confessing out of nowhere.

Meanwhile, you promise in your life that you'll never ever drink again in your entire life. Although your boyfriend knows that it’ll be broken by next week, he still supports you like a girl’s girl.

But that wasn't the biggest problem right now. What actually was? The fact that it was 7 in the morning right now, and you had to be present at work by 7:30.

Although Mingyu’s meeting started at 8, he still insisted on dropping you off. And the way your apartment looked like a mess right now did not help—all your clothes, belongings scattered around because you literally woke up at 6:40 and had to rush everything.

And your boyfriend was quite literally on the same page. Tripping over everything that was scattered on the floor was one of the things he was doing before he came running to you with wide puppy eyes.

“Baby, have you seen my tie?” He asks, desperately trying to find it everywhere he can. You pause, trying to think about where it could be. Then it hit you—he had put it in the washing machine just yesterday after coming back from work.

“It's… in the washing machine…” you trail off, looking over to Mingyu, who was one step away from banging his head on the wall.

“Nooo…” He whined, his lips jutting out in a pout. Suddenly, he huffed and sprinted outside of the bedroom, heading somewhere.

Oh no. You really don't wish it was what you're thinking right now.

Soon, he enters the bedroom. This time, his brown and black tie that was put in the washing machine was in his hands as he aggressively tried to wrap it around his neck.

“Baby… you're really gonna wear that?” You ask in disbelief, although you did expect him to do that.

He raises his gaze, still trying to do the tie. “I don't have a spare one…” He mumbles in a pouty voice, and you could see how stressed he was.

He had a huge meeting ahead, and this shitty day was already starting off bad.

Letting out a sigh, you walk towards him. “Let me do it, gyu.” You say, and his lips immediately curved into a grin, making you smile aswell. Just as he hands you the tie, you sniff something and scowl.

“What's that burning smell?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows funnily.

“Huh?” He leans over to your side and sniffs, his expression instantly shifting from confusion to pure horror.

“Oh no,” he hisses to himself before running to the kitchen. You blinked in confusion, turning around to watch as he almost tripped over nothing on the way there. You followed behind him hastily, feeling the extreme panic radiate from him.

You soon reached the kitchen as well, asking him what's wrong as he stood there like a statue.

“Gyu—” you walk over to him, your eyes landing on the pan that rested over the stove with a burnt omelette in it. You gasp, quickly turning the stove off before looking over to Mingyu who stood there, shoulders slumped in disbelief, shock or sadness—you couldn't even tell.

“Baby…” he mumbled, unable to keep his laugh of self-destruction. Despite his attempts to stay composed, his eyes became a little teary, so you immediately reached out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug.

“It's okay, don't worry about it,” You pat his back, trying to comfort him as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I messed it up… now you’ll have to work on an empty stomach and that's not something nice.” He complains, still upset that you will be hungry, not him. You let out a soft chuckle at that.

“Hey, we can always grab something from the store while we walk to work, right?” You suggest in an amused voice, and he immediately perks up at that. But then he frowns.

“We’ll walk? But why?”

“Your car is still with Wonwoo, remember?” Just as you say that, Mingyu lets out a whine and leans against the wall behind him, as if among those 99 problems, another one had struck him like thunder to make it a 100.

You laugh at his dramatic reaction, placing your hands on his shoulders as you shake him a little. “C’mon, isn't it a good thing? Quality time, we call it.”

Ofcourse, that meant you would be a bit late to work. But maximum just by 10 minutes, so it wouldn't hurt.

“Are you sure?” He asks, again thinking about you and not himself. You nod, then notice the light in his eyes return in an instant.

“Then we should hurry up!” He chirps, and suddenly, he is all energetic and enthusiastic again.

Because of him, you are ready in just five minutes as he helped you do your hair and found everything you were searching for in the scattered mess. As for him, he just needed to wear the tie and do his hair, and you both were good to go.

—

Strolling down the street, hand in hand, with a bun in your other hand and a chocolate bread in his as you both talked about how this day would be so exhausting—sounded so peaceful after the hectic and rushed morning the two of you had experienced.

After Mingyu dropped you off, he headed to Wonwoo’s place to get his car back because he still had 20 minutes until the meeting. Also because he learned that the CEO being five minutes late doesn't matter anyway, the meeting should just go well.

Fast forwarding the time—you didn't think that your day would go by so smoothly. While you were glad and happy, you kept wondering how Mingyu’s day went.

Was the meeting successful? Did he have a good day? Or was he upset?

By the time you had gotten off work, you were sure he was done too. So, you dialed his number to ask him about his day but just then, a car pulled up on the road infront of you. As the windows rolled down, revealing Mingyu with a smile, you noticed the way his eyes didn't carry his usual spark.

Turns out, you were correct. But when your boyfriend said he will just have a pack of ramen before going to bed, you immediately refuse.

You weren't letting him go to bed with basically an empty stomach. Not after he had not even eaten lunch because of the business partner who always felt the need to drag out things and make everything more stressful.

“I'm okay, you don't have to cook..” Mingyu mumbles, watching you cut vegetables as he stands behind you. You shake your head firmly enough to let him know that you weren't going to back down.

“You need to eat, gyu. And I can cook for you.” You say, turning your head to glance at him once. For a moment, he stands still with no reaction, but then he pouts, stepping forward to wrap his arms around your torso, his face buried in your shoulder.

“That man pisses me off so bad.” He suddenly started ranting, and you listened to his complaints intendly. He ranted about how, out of anyone in the company, his personal assistant would be the last one he would suspect of something, and yet he turned out to be the one snitching on his company to their rivals.

“I trusted him alot, baby…” Mingyu mumbles against your shoulder. You raise one of your hands to cup his cheek as you turn around to face him so he could hug you properly.

“Come here,” you open your arms with a smile, and he immediately pulls you to his side to hug you. He sighs in contentment, the corners of his lips finally curving into a soft smile as he buried his face in your neck.

“Don't beat yourself up for it. You trusted someone, but they didn't turn out to be like you expected. That's fine, baby, that's really fine. Just be careful with how the person is before you trust them.” You say, patting his back gently as you rocked him side by side like a baby. He hummed in response and nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

“But that doesn't apply to me.” you joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, and Mingyu immediately let out a chuckle at that, tightening his grip around you.

“Why not?” He pulls back slightly to look at you in amusement.

“Because I'm special. Very special.” You grin at him as he takes a few seconds to just stare at you before laughing again.

��I can't argue with that.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“That's what I thought.”

The kitchen air was filled with your usual giggles and playful banters after that. But in the back of your mind, both of you knew the importance of each other. The importance of having each other in your lives.

No matter how the weather was—gloomy, rainy, thundering or sunny—it was never so bad for you two to stay apart. That wasn't just about the weather. And no matter what the season is, both of you will share the day with each other. It didn't always have to be a day filled with laughs and silliness, but it didn't pull you apart. Never.

KISSBYOON 2025. all rights reserved. @maestro-net @kstrucknet

[cakypa120]

Billy and Danny are planning wedding with each other because of the observers

They consider Billy as a champion of magic to be too powerful by himself

And they consider Danny as the Ghost came in ancient space is being too powerful to be by himself

So they're married each other because apparently they balance each other out

Could Justice League because of this thing it's an arranged marriage that both of them are really unhappy with

It just them being unhappy with the observers especially Danny this could be tied in with the reverse Persephone thing

Like Billy is really happy with it because the gods are all supportive and Danny is dealing with her the butting heads in the fall of the ancients and observers

I may have misunderstood the question. Sorry(⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

Marvel: You're invited to my and the Phantom's wedding! *holds out invitations to each hero*

Barry: What do you mean you're not married?!

Marvel: It was just an engagement. You know, meeting the parents and stuff. The Observants were really pushing for us to get married. Something about balance, I think.

Batman: The Observants?

Marvel: Yeah, those idiots.

Danny: *hisses* Why are you jumping in ahead of time?!

Observants: Danny Fenton and Billy Batson may not be married yet....

Observants: But Phantom and Captain Marvel should get married....

Observants: For the balance of the universe.

Danny: *covers face with hands and groans*

Observants: *wait calmly*

That's not how Danny wanted to marry Billy. He was planning something romantic, and only when he graduated. Only the Observers disrupted all his plans. Danny was then grabbed by the arms and placed in front of Billy. Then the Observers said that the engagement had been approved and the wedding date had already been chosen. It was a shock to Billy, but it was Danny who was most shocked.

Phantom: They didn't give me a choice, you know? I wanted everything to be romantic. So that the one I love is really admired. But they bring me to him and tell me that everything has already been decided!

Superman: This is terrible! Why did they do this to you?

Phantom: Like I know. They're all assholes who don't respect anyone. It's good that Marvel understood me when I explained everything to him.

Superman thought that the Phantom was being forced into an engagement with Marvel. And the fact that these two are not very happy about it. Clark now disliked the Observants a little for what they had done to Phantom and Marvel. Forced marriage is always very bad.

While Danny was fighting with the Observants, Billy was very happy that he was marrying Danny. That is, Captain Marvel marries the Phantom. But Billy is Captain Marvel, so it's okay. Today the Captain and the Phantom, tomorrow Billy and Danny. He considered it a victory.

Zeus: I can ask Dionysus to provide alcohol.

Solomon: We want to celebrate quietly, and not turn everything into a binge and an orgy.

Achilles: We should have a fight with the Observants as a competition.

Hercules: I agree. You can also beat Adam.

Atlas: Isn't he our best man?

Mercury: Billy's best man, Marvel's punching bag.

Billy: Guys, we were choosing a menu.

Persephone: Why didn't anyone tell me that my beloved nephew was getting married?!!?

Hades: Run, you fools!!

Preparations for the wedding were in full swing. Billy and Danny were going crazy over the preparations. The league was going crazy about the upcoming wedding. The observers made sure that everything went well.

On the wedding day, Marvel had a lot more gold hanging on him than before and his whole appearance was more majestic. The phantom was blinding in its beauty. A ring of rage glittered on his finger and a crown of fire burned with a green flame. Phantom and Marvel looked great together, as if they were made for each other. As much as the League dislikes this marriage, they admit that Phantom and Marvel balanced each other out.

The ceremony begins.....

....Another alien invasion is taking place on Earth.

It's like a wedding without a fight, right?

[epigstolary]

Welcome to Epigstolary, a place where I write about gaining, feeding, and all things fattening. My stories are usually at the higher end of the scale, with an affectionate emphasis on teasing, humiliation, and the consequences of extreme gluttony. If that sounds like your cup of tea, I think you’ll enjoy what’s in these pages, and I hope you’ll check out some of the stories linked below:

CONTENTS

Date Night — Your feeder envisions your likely future as the two of you make the rounds of your favorite fast food drive-thrus

Incubus — A shadowy creature has already made you eat yourself well past morbid obesity, and he’s not even close to being done with you.

Tough Guy — You may think you’re a man’s man, even if that waistline says otherwise. But your enabling partner’s happy to let you keep thinking whatever you want.

On Your Own — What does the future have in store for your superchub self without your feeder?

Real Talk — Your friend has some “advice” to share with you about your weight and habits.

Rebound — It’s easier to regain, and then some — as you’ll soon find out.

The Middle of Nowhere — Part One — A gainer who chooses an idyllic life in the country with their feeder might have gotten more than they bargained for.

The Middle of Nowhere — Part Two — How does a rural superchub handle dinner guests and a trip into town?

Lecture — You’re the focal point of a scientific teachable moment about the effects of hypermorbid obesity on the human body.

Deaf Ears — You haven’t been listening to your feeder’s warnings about your habits, and this is the result.

Step By Step — You don’t become a superchub overnight. But there are signs that’s where things are going.

Big Deal — It’s time you gave your feeder a talking-to after they get cold feet from your recent gains.

The Makings of a Glutton — What makes a superchub? A menu of food that’s terrible for you, apparently.

Too Much of a Good Thing — It may be wonderful, but the weight of your feeder’s affection is catching up with you.

A New Home — A newly-immobile superchub gets used to life in a facility meant to help them lose weight, but the caregiver who fed them that size has other plans.

Sedentary — Years of poor diet and too much time on the couch has made it harder and harder to get around.

A Normal Life — You consider a return to civilian life after years as a live-in feedee.

Out and About — Your feeder recounts their favorite things about taking you out and showing you off to unsuspecting, shocked civilians.

Wish Fulfillment — You awaken to find yourself the immobile superchub of your dreams, but how long will you get to enjoy it?

The Look — Your feeder wants to make sure you understand your situation.

Weakness — Your feeder confronts you with how your weakness for food brought you to your current obese condition.

Best Intentions — Unsuspecting bystanders gape, mock, and try to help as you begin mysteriously and rapidly gaining hundreds of pounds.

Enabling Delusion — You and your partner still think you’re going to lose the weight. Your friends think differently.

Center of Attention — Your popularity as a superchub influencer won’t save you from humiliation when your gains finally catch up to you.

Consumed — A poetic exploration of how gaining grew to dominate your life.

Expressions — A feeder recounts a gainer’s progress through how they react to their burgeoning body.

The Biggest Size They Make — You’ve been fighting your wardrobe for a long time, and now you’re losing the battle.

Morning — Nothing beats a cozy, comfy morning being spoiled by your feeder.

Excuses — You always have an excuse ready for why your weight isn’t a problem. But there are signs that you’re only fooling yourself.

The Deal — Your bodybuilding arrangement with a savvy gainer proves to be more than you bargained for.

Over The Edge — An admirer puzzles over how you let yourself get to the edge of the gaining abyss.

Just A Number — That’s all weight is, but yours has been going up alarmingly fast.

A Growing Problem — Your partner finally gets their concerns about your weight problem off their chest.

When, Not Whether — Gaining like you do isn’t sustainable. You’re heading for a crisis; it’s just a matter of time.

Realization — Your partner finally takes off the mask, revealing their inner feeder once it’s too late for you to do anything about it.

No Going Back — You thought you could experiment with gaining and lose the weight after you’d had your fun. You were wrong.

Trough — A shadowy feeder sets you up to eat like the farm animal you are, to see just how long you can manage.

Big and Tall — A rotund clothes shopper needs the help of a chaser sales clerk after a sartorial mishap.

Polite — You’ve gotten too fat to make fun of, but the polite restraint from your friends tells you everything you need to know.

Vignettes

You Ate

Beyond Your Control

Animals

Love

The Tailor

Comment Section

Drive-Thru

Scale #1

Scale #2

[suiana]

since squid game is coming back what do u guys think about yandere! squid game players x mastermind! reader

reader is just some guy that's trying to lay low. but because of how their life is suddenly full of admirers who sometimes get a little bit too freaky... reader decides to get a little silly and casually start a death game for the grand prize of...

that's right, you guessed it.

being yours!

all the participants are obsessed with you. so obsessed that they'd be willing to put their lives on the line for a slim chance of winning the big prize. you. all 456 of them.

how did you get so many people that's obsessed with you? well that's easy! you're just that loveable hahaha!

no it's actually because people are weird and don't have anything else to do. that childhood friend of yours? yeah, he's in the game asap. no questions asked. that sexy older lady who's a frequent customer at your favourite restaurant? she's signed herself up. hell, even your single dad dilf neighbour is here, what the fawk.

anyway, no biggie. at least you'll get to eliminate 455 of them through the game and be left with jsut one annoyance to take care of!

..

...

you couldn't be further from the truth. don't you know? you have to hire guards too.

and yes, of course they have to be in love with you. what kind of question is that? at this point it would be out of the norm to NOT be obsessed with you. silly reader. how are you going to be the mastermind like this? this is why you need a front man to help guide you too!

and of course he loves you too :3

so now you need to deal with a room of people that are (unfortunately) obsessed with you. erm... at least you get to be surrounded by hot people who'd worship the ground you walk on..?

WRONG.

not everyone is the same. some of them are yes, obsessive and devoted. but you also have the weird sadistic people who lowkey wanna live in your skin. you, um, also have the people who would love nothing more than to break you down and rebuild you in their images. aaannnd you also have the absolutely manipulative pieces of shit who'll make you feel like YOU'RE the one who needs help. haha! what a crowd of people, am i right?

oh well! since you're the mastermind you get to be the one to choose who you wanna be with. and if you don't wanna any of them... well, you get to make that choice, don't you?

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾?

ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES TIP JAR

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

I’ve got to start by saying that your future spouse is going to be someone who is going to be very attractive to you, you’ll find them to be irresistible. Like, even if for some of you, they are not the standard definition of attractiveness, they’re going to personally appeal to you very deeply, it’s like there will be no one like them in your eyes. For most of you, this person seems to be attractive in general but despite this attractiveness, they’re going to bond with you and choose you to love, and you’ll feel really special about being the one for them. It’s going to be something that makes you feel proud, you’re going to wear the badge of honour with pride xD. That Barbara Sprouse moment is coming through. “Miss Palvin, one more time.” “It’s Mrs. Sprouse!” “You tell them baby!” Aww, this is actually so adorable. People often say that love is not enough but for you it is enough because you don’t think of love as merely just an emotion, you understand and want the responsibilities that come with it, you want to take on the role that you’ll be expected to once you’re in a relationship, and your future spouse is going to be the same causing you to feel safe within the relationship. You’re going to have a great deal of admiration for them. “Why did you even choose me?” is the kind of vibe that I’m getting here. Like, no matter how amazing of a self worth you may have, you’re going to feel like you must’ve stopped wars and saved lives in your past life for you to have found such an amazing partner. The world is going to feel so kind and beautiful just because you have them. I’m getting you being able to look at life with rose coloured glasses at almost all times because of how they treat you with so much love, care and respect. The love that you’ll share will feel divine in nature because you’ll be drawn to them on a primal and soul level, almost right from the start, like even if you wanted to, you’d not be able to get rid of the attraction and bond that you feel with them. You’re going to deeply cherish your relationship, marriage and bond, and the sacredness of it, the fact that you are experiencing the kind of love that most people can only dream of is going to be something that you’ll feel really grateful for and you’re going to be heavily invested in protecting and devoting yourself to them, and the love you’ll share with them, and the fact that they share the same sentiments and values as you is going to make you feel safe, joyful and in sync with them. Your values are going to be deeply matched causing you to feel in sync with them without even having to say much if anything at all. We often hear a lot about how communication is the key but what we have all learned or should learn is that communication means nothing unless there’s some basic understanding between the parties involved because if someone is committed to misunderstanding you or incapable of understanding you, your words are going to simply just fall upon deaf ears but with them, you’re going to feel like they understand you without you even having to explain anything to them.

Your future spouse is going to be someone very respectable and admirable. They’re going to be responsible and will be hardworking, having built a lot for themself, and even if someone is unaware of their achievements in life, the way they talk, act and carry themself is going to make them think “this person must be something”. However, they’re going to be a bit less controlled and even emotionally vulnerable with you, like you’ll be so in tune with them, you’ll pull certain reactions out of them against their will and you’ll be able to tell that it’s because of the effect that you have on them. They’ll tell you certain things that they never tell anyone, they’ll show you sides of themself that they never show anyone and overtime, they’ll grow more comfortable with emotional expression causing you both to have an emotionally intimate connection full of vulnerability and trust. You might have noticed that I’m not just talking about what you’ll cherish about them but also about you and that’s because everything between the both of you seems to be very mutual in nature. “I am another you, you are another me” is the kind of relationship that you seem to share honestly. ‘Two bodies, one soul’ is the kind of stuff that I’m picking up on or at least that both of your souls will be connected in a way where you’ll become one with each other. They’re also going to be a loyal and reliable protector, and provider that you’ll be able to look up to them. It seems to be very important to them to be able to do so. I am getting that the connection between the both of you is going to be something that happens naturally without hurting each other. You want to be pursued and they’ll do so, and you’ll reciprocate but even within the process of pursuing you itself, they are going to help you become more empowered by breaking free from the pain, negative thoughts, beliefs and patterns that you previously possessed and you’re going to see them do the same, causing more of a feeling of connection and intimacy. “Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me.” You’ll feel like they saw you in your worst times and had faith in you, causing you to have no choice but to get better. I just heard that you’ll not have to make excuses for them because they’ll be intentional and responsible. You’re going to see them as a very genuine and loving person who has dealt with a lot, and come out of it with more power, and you’re going to admire them for all that they are. They’re going to be a protector and provider, ensuring that you’re taken care of and loved, and they’re also going to pull you out of mentally distressing times. It’s amazing what love can do for you. However in all honesty, you seem to cherish everything about them. ‘If you love me for me’ from ‘Barbie: Princess and the Pauper’ is coming through. “I’ll be yours, forever. We shall always be as one, if you love me for me.” “You say your love is true and I hope that it will be. I’d be sure if I knew that you love me for me.” Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

Your future spouse is going to be a very self sufficient person. Sort of hyper independent almost. They’re going to be someone self serving who spends a lot of time working on themself and taking care of themself that they might be unable to relate to other people at times. They seem to be very out of reach and unwilling to extend love and nurturing to just anyone. They will have just grown used to being independent and so it will be a bit difficult for them to just give out openly but you’re going to see them. You’re going to see that they’ve not received the nurturing and love that they needed causing them to turn into this kind of person but that they still have the capacity to be incredibly loving and nurturing. You’re going to see them undergo many transitions and it’s going to be intriguing to you just how easily and firmly they seem to go through them. You’ll notice that they’re someone who just emotionally detaches from situations instead of feeding emotions and energy into all of them, and this kind of approach is going to teach you a lot as well. Possibly, you’re someone who has struggled with taking care of yourself and have a tendency to over-give, and over-feel so it’s going to be intriguing to you just how much self love, respect and control over their actions they possess. They’re going to be someone very unapologetic but in an understated manner rather than a flashy and loud manner. They’re not going to be like “I’m right, I’ve done nothing wrong” in words with others but the way they’ll be acting like they don’t owe anything to situations and people, and will be centered within themself, focusing on their own life, needs and work is going to be proof of how unapologetic they are. They’re going to be someone who does not feel the need to be everything to everyone while you might be someone who was shamed for being selfish at some point for doing one thing in your favour even though you had done everything else in other people’s, they’re not going to feel the need to take care of their environment and everyone within it, and that’s going to be something that you learn from as well. They’re going to tell you things like “you need to think about yourself also, no?” causing you to start feeling less guilty about self prioritisation. They’re going to cause you to reprioritise and be more selfish, and you’re not going to feel shamed by them for putting yourself first because they’ll understand how important it is to do so. They’ll see your selflessness and good qualities, and will not point fingers at you calling you ‘selfish’ and all because you put yourself first, and did what was best for you. Instead, they’re going to be happy and proud every time they see you becoming more and more comfortable with being selfish. At the beginning, you might need validation from them or others that you’ve done nothing wrong, and that you’ve done the right thing by making the best choice for you but overtime, you’re going to become more comfortable, making these choices and rationalising them independently, and they’re going to be glad to have you grow to such an extent. You’re going to be grateful to have them guide you into that. They’re going to know how to be selfish and emotionally detached, and how to withhold certain things, they’re going to be extremely stingy with even just their own presence, and you’re going to know how much people crave their presence, you’re going to feel special that you’re one of the select few they have chosen for themself.

You’re also going to find yourself growing more self respect and will start being more stingy with your own presence, and it is going to lead to immense growth for you because you’re going to stop relying on other people and how much you’ve pleased them, what they think, etc. in order to feel validated and important, and will instead start developing standards that you’ll want yourself to meet, other people to meet and boundaries that you’ll not want them to cross. Despite wanting to meet certain standards and being hard on yourself at times, you’re going to start appreciating yourself more due to them and start going easier on yourself because you’ll be at peace with yourself for working with your own best interests at heart. Also, despite them being an independent person who is highly self sufficient, they’re going to be needy for you. They’re also going to be very possessive. They’ll be someone who will get jealous and because they’re usually very nonchalant, and stoic, it’s going to make you feel special to have them to be all worked up over you. They’re also going to be a very dirty person sexually. Due to how stingy they are with their energy and how reserved they seem to be, this side of them might be something that you discover overtime and you’re going to love that only you get to see them and be with them this way. They’re going to be so perverse and others might not have a single clue about it. You’re going to love the sides of them that only you’re going to get, it’ll make you feel really special. They’re going to be a very jealous person too but you’re going to love it. I’m getting them being sulky and needy only for, and with you, and you reassuring them with a certain internal pride, knowing that they desire you so much. Even though they’re generally kind of a cold person, with you, they’re going to be very dependent and smothering. Also, you’re going to notice positive changes within them overtime and they’re going to move away from habits, and personality traits, and you’re going to feel like it must be your effect to some extent because you’ll have literally turned a stoic person like them into a complete jealous, possessive and needy softie who craves your affection, and love. This is so adorable, I’m getting them glaring at you with a half frown, half pout and looking away because they’re jealous but also expecting and hoping for you to touch them, express your love to them and reassure them in really over the top ways. I’m also getting them laying their head on your shoulder and looking up at you with puppy eyes and then smiling with you turn your head towards you, making you melt at the sight. Also, another thing is that some of you here either do or have struggled with body odour at some point but you’re going to love their natural scent, like even when they smell all sweaty, you’re going to want to breathe them in and it might sound weird right now if you’ve never experienced this before but they’re going to smell really good to you even in such a state and vice versa, they’re going to be attracted to your scent rather than repulsed by it even when you might have a body odour because it might have been a really hot day or you might have engaged in some sort of physical activity causing you to sweat a lot for example. You’re going to cherish them for teaching you to prioritise yourself and for having a place for you in their life, and heart that no one else does. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

Your future spouse is going to be a flirt. It’s going to piss you off honestly because you’ll be confused as to whether they like you back or not when you first meet and later because they’ll be a smooth talker with others, and you’re not going to know if it was intentional or not. In fact, you might know that they’re naturally like this but other people are going to be highly attracted to them due to the gift of the gab that they possess and that’s going to be a source of distress for you. Even when you will literally be in a relationship or married to them, others are going to be highly attracted to them but they’re going to disconnect from anyone who is influencing your emotions negatively because they’ll prioritise you. They’re going to be willing to have endless discussions about the same thing again and again to your heart’s content, repeat the same sweet and reassuring words to you again and again until you feel better and trust them again, and these will be qualities that you’ll greatly cherish about them. They’re going to be very gentle, smooth and sweet in their speech, especially with you. Despite being attractive and receiving tons of romantic attention, and proposals, they’re going to be someone who firmly turns down those who flirt with them or initiate anything romantic with them because they’ll respect you and only want you but yes, they’re naturally a very charming person with a smooth, sweet and flirty tongue which is going to get on your nerves, and cause you a lot of insecurities but instead of justifying their behaviour as ‘who they naturally are’, they’re going to actively make an effort to maintain distance and boundaries once they realise just how much things tend to affect you. They’re going to be very confusing to you because they’re going to be authentic and when someone is true to themself, they’re going to be complicated too because they’ll have learned how to make peace and work with even contradictory qualities that they possess but that’s exactly what’s going to make you adore and cherish them so much, the more you get to know them, the more inspiration you’ll gain because you’ll be disillusioned about many things and hence, gain clarity about many things. You’ll look up to them so much, you’re going to want to do better for yourself. You’re going to want to live up to them but overtime, this is going to turn into more of a desire to grow and live up to your own standards instead, to experience your own growth without external validation. Also, initially despite them extending their love towards you, you are going to be confused and might feel hopeless but also inspired to become better, to live up to them but overtime when you’ve grown enough, you’re going to realise that they’ve loved you from the beginning itself, even when you had not grown to be as magnificent as you will be and that’s going to cause your heart to melt.

“You saw me when I was invisible” is the energy that I’m getting here. Also, they’re going to see qualities in you that you won’t see in yourself, in the midst of situations where you’ll feel hopeless and directionless, they’re going to be a guiding light. They are going to have so much hope and faith in you. You’ll be confused and might even get into conflicts with them at some point because you’ll be dealing with major internal conflicts but they’re going to continue treating you gently and with lots of love. They’re going to be incredibly kind and gentle with you, and others, and well sometimes if they’re too charming with others or seem to receive a lot of romantic attention, that’s going to cause you to be upset but for the most part, it’s going to be part of why you love them, they’ll have touched your life deeply with their kindness and grace, and these traits will be what makes you love and cherish them. You might meet them when you’re in a hopeless era of feeling uninspired and like nothing in life will work out for you, like something is wrong with you, and they’ll be so gentle, loving and kind with you, willing to take their time to get to know you, randomly doing and saying things that confuse you but help you grow in the long term, making you cherish, adore and love them wholeheartedly. You seem to know that they’re not ill intentioned, that they’re just a friendly, well intentioned and kind person so you’re not going to feel bad about their charming nature most of the times because these will be qualities that you’ll cherish in them but gosh, seeing others desire what’s yours, adoring it with a certain envy in their heart that their eyes inevitably express or hearing them call your person’s name out with a certain intimacy is what’s going to make you upset and rile you up. Names seem to play a very huge role here, you’re going to find yourself saying their name all the time when they’re not around, it’s going to something that lingers on your mind at all times, everything about them of course but especially their name. You may love your name, you may hate your name but the way they’ll say your name, the safety, warmth and intimacy that it will be entwined with when it leaves their mouth is going to make you grow even more fond of your name. You might have this belief, a very deep seated one that you’re hard to love, hard to understand and easy to leave, you fear that everyone will abandon you and what you fear even more is that even if they stay, you won’t be enough, that you might not even be the first choice or that their eyes or heart might be elsewhere, that they will not understand, care about you and love you enough to understand why it means so much for you to be the only one but they’ll do all of this so effortlessly.

They’ll be someone who hates hurting you, they’ll feel hurt and hopeless as a person when you seem to be in pain so they’re going to do anything to try and make sure that they’re not part of the pain but instead something that relieves it. They’re not only going to love you when things are going well, they’re also going to love you when you’re hopeless and down in the dumps, and they’re going to be so graceful, kind and gentle, not just in their treatment of you but also in the way they live life. Also, intimacy is going to be very casual for the both of you, like being in a crowded room and having an eye contact with each other is going to feel intimate to you, fighting with each other if anything occurs is going to feel intimate to you, laughing around and chatting with your friends is going to feel intimate to you, passing a spoon to each other is going to feel intimate to you, basically everything is going to feel intimate in their presence. Also, their presence will just linger but what’s going to make you truly cherish them is that you’re going to notice them trying to linger too, before the both of you even get into a relationship, you’re going to notice them a lot in your surroundings and when you’re in a relationship or married, you could be together in a room, discussing something and they’ll just not want to leave, they’ll be making all sorts of excuses to stay and if they’re left with no choice but to go because duty calls, their longing glances, almost as if they’re trying to take in all of you, to remember in their mind’s eye is not going to go unnoticed by you and before you know it, they’re going to rush back home to you in order to be enveloped in your warmth again. It’s giving ‘Apocalypse’ by Cigarettes after sex. “You’ve been locked in here forever and you just can’t say goodbye.” Wait, I’m also getting another song by them ‘affection’ but for the previous song, the entire song seems very significant while for this one, two particular lines are the only ones that is resonating with the reading. “I think of you, I want you too, I’d fall for you” and “sometimes we talk all night long, we don’t shut up and when it’s late, you say you’re still wide awake so we love to talk about how you’ll come up to visit me and we’ll rent a car, and we’ll drive upstate. It’s affection always, you’re gonna see it someday. My attention’s on you, even if it’s not what you need.” Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

[chaoticforever]

Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader

Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?

Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.

Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.

Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.

Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.

However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.

Peter Parker.

See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.

He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.

"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"

"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"

Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."

"And what perspective is that?"

Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."

Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."

A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."

Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."

Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.

As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.

But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.

With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.

When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.

"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.

Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"

"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"

"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."

Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."

Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"

Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.

"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."

Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.

The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?

It was ridiculous.

But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.

Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.

He couldn’t wait.

XXXXX XXXXX

The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.

Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.

After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.

Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.

Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.

His dad was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.

"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.

Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"

"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.

The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.

"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.

Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."

That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.

"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."

Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.

Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."

"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."

Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."

The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t understand.

Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.

Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.

The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.

Proud dad moment...?

Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?

And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.

His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.

Suddenly, a knock came from his door.

"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"

Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"

Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"

The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."

Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.

"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.

Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.

They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.

Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.

"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."

Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."

Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."

The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."

He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."

"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."

Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.

But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.

And that made him smile.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.

As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.

"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."

Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."

The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."

Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."

Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"

"I took Peter to the science fair."

"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."

The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand. 

"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"

"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."

Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.

Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.

And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.

Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.

"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.

Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."

Y/n looked around. "Where are we?" 

"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped." 

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him. 

And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."

Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."

Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."

Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.

Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."

"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."

It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.

"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.

Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."

He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.

And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.

"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one. 

"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.

As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.

But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.

Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.

And his heart dropped to his stomach.

Y/n had been shot.

The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.

"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"D-Dad."

"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.

The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son. 

Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s. 

"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.

Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.

"What happened?" One of them asked.

"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained. 

The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. 

The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.

Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.

Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it. Guess I’ll be seeing my Mom soon…"

The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.

But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."

Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.

"I love you."

The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.

"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n. 

But it didn't work.

"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.

Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.

"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced. 

And, just like that, Tony Stark broke. 

He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.

Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.

And Tony felt like he had died too.

His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.

"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."

But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.

He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it. 

It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.

That made his sobs grow louder.

The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.

Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.

Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.

Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.

Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful. 

Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.

Parents shouldn’t have to bury their child, but Tony was going to bury his.

Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."

For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.

XXXXX XXXXX

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hey Bunji

This is my first time doing a request for you and I was wondering if you could write for Raven reader? For the Invincible show?

And ship them with Mark or Rex if thats not too much trouble?

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

Mark, Rex [seperate] x Raven!Reader

Note // I believe this is the first I’ve ever gotten a request for Invincible so huzzah! I went with headcanons here, hope that’s okay. 💤

Mark Grayson

Mark isn’t used to quiet. After everything—with his dad, the Viltrumites, Earth almost being obliterated twice over—he associates silence with tension, like something bad’s about to happen. But you? You are silence. Calm. Stillness. And at first, it unnerves him.

Then he realizes it's peace. You’re peace. He starts seeking it out—your room, your aura, the soft way you exist without demanding anything. You don’t ask him to be okay. You just sit beside him and let your soul-self settle in the space like it knows he needs to breathe. And for the first time since Chicago, he does.

Mark knows the inner struggles of having to deal with the weight of your father's legacy, Nolan's misdeeds hang over his head constantly; even if it had been lessened overtime, he still gets reminded of it every once in a while. So it at least makes for good conversation of talking about who's father is shittier, your talks about your own father --- Trigon is quite the surprise. But he doesn't diminish his worry for you, and ensures that you get it off your chest if you want to. Shitty fathers are shitty fathers after all, so he gets the confusion when it comes to the switch-ups. One day so kind and gentle, then the other they're ruthless and cold. Fathers are a complete and utter enigma, especially estranged ones, particularly alien fathers.

He’s an early riser now—not by choice, but from trauma. Wakes up with a jolt, sweat-drenched, heart racing. You’re usually already awake, meditating or floating gently above the bed, a soft violet glow casting shadows across the room.

“Nightmare?” you ask, voice like velvet but laced with quiet knowing. He nods. You open your arms and he’s already climbing in. He doesn't cry. Not every time. But when he does, you let him. No judgment. No advice. Just warmth, soul, and that steady pulse of empathic magic that reminds him—he’s not alone.

Being able to actively choose the path of healing and empathy is something he greatly admires about you, and chooses to take on the lead himself, even if his efforts for and across space is continually tested. Mark hates the ache in his bones and constant fighting, he knows his perception of heroism has been easily skewed--but your presence remains a strong pillar in his view of it.

As Invincible, he knows. Mark doesn't judge you for being half-human and half-demon, he himself is a hybrid as well. Even if his powers kicked in way later than expected of the average viltrumite. Mark thinks your amazing for pursing your own goals and constantly on your own path to form an identity uniquely your own, not having to be extension of anyone else, your just... you. Even despite knowing how cheesy that is, but he gets it, and will continue to cheer you on for that. He's that guy in your corner even if you feel like there's nobody else there.

He’s in awe of your powers. Every time you phase your soul-self or bend time around the two of you during high-emotion moments, he’s just standing there like, “Okay, that was sick.”

You once stopped time mid-fight because he was about to get skewered. When you restarted it, he barely dodged, landed a hit, and after the battle you scolded him. He grinned, wiped blood off his lip, and said, “Thanks for the time-out, coach.”

The first time you used empathy on him intentionally? He’d just flown back from a mission, shoulders tight with suppressed rage. You didn’t say anything—just reached out and felt the storm in him. He didn’t realize how close he was to breaking until he felt you soften it.

He kissed you like you were the only thing holding him together. Because you were.

Additionally to the fact about his love towards your spells, if you had ever summoned forth your more demonic form to perform more complicated spells when neccessary; he's just amazed, that's all. Mark knows he hasn't been Invincible as long as other heroes in the field, but he's seen and done alot, so seeing something as dark as you is like a fresh of breath air.

And that you aren't actively out to kill him, which is also nice.

Dancing with you is one of his favorite things to do, just slow and gentle. It's more than anything he's asked for within his life, and it's easy. Enough to simply just let other things in his life melt away and be in the moment with you, even if you two seem to float in the sky. Your hair becomes something akin to that of the aurora borealis when you two dance in the sky, and he loves to watch that happen. It's a gentle light, nice and bright, easy to follow even in the darkest spots.

your tutelage over your book is something else to be sure, Mark knows and learned of it a while long before you two had officially been dating. He has indefinitely learned not to touch it, and left it to your vices. But he certainly can't lie, Mark finds it super cool when your focused with your grimoire.

There are often moments in combat where you two conflict, but you are emotionally-restrained, and that ends up in you lashing out sometimes whilst in combat. You try your best to redirect your lashings against the villiains though, however, Mark does his best to redirect it without hurting you. His guilt weighs immensely when he does make up with you, however you aren't having it and tell him you were much at fault as he was. Though in the end he is relieved.

Both of you have immense gaits of trust, where as you find it difficult to trust anyone. There is an immense similarity in which you both share where you find it even more difficult to forgive said person if they break your trust, it takes effort and time to build a bond with others. Many times of which Mark has agreed with and backed you up on when you both argue with others about some people in certain situations.

You do have a place—modestly enchanted, soundproofed, and black-out spelled so you’re not melting under the sun. Mark jokes it’s like living in a Batcave with plants. He lowkey loves it though. The air smells like sage and lilac. It’s always cool. And it feels safe.

He has a toothbrush there. A drawer. His favorite hoodie is mysteriously missing from his place because you wear it when he’s off-world. It smells like sky and blood and him.

The soul-self curls protectively around his side when he sleeps over. He calls it “the bird blanket” and once tried to draw a dumb cartoon version of it to make you laugh. It did.

When you’re together, you both get to be soft. Mark, especially, lets down his armor with you. He doesn’t have to be Invincible. Doesn’t have to pretend the galaxy isn’t crumbling. He gets to just be… Mark.

You two have a ritual: once a week, you both switch off everything—no patrols, no Cecil, no emergencies unless the literal sun implodes—and you just exist. You read to each other, you float on the ceiling together, you nap under a weightless spell.

He once said, “I love how your magic makes me feel like I’m floating. Even when I’m not flying.” That one stayed with you.

Mark both appreciates and hates how to-the-point you are, while the blunt honesty is something he understands he needs to hear more often, he wishes you could just lie about certain things.

When Mark spirals—guilt, pressure, grief—you don’t tell him to stop. You let him feel. And then you remind him that he’s not his father. You remind him that his rage doesn’t define him. That you’ve seen worse. Been worse. And you’re still worthy of love.

“You’re allowed to fall apart,” you whisper once, when he came home after a near-fatal mission, shirt soaked in blood that wasn’t his. “I’ll hold the pieces. Until you’re ready to be whole again.”

And he does. He lets go. Because if he can trust anyone with that fragile part of him, it’s you.

He never tells you you're too much, even when you struggle to stay grounded in this realm. Even when your magic flares and your emotions flood the room.

“You’re everything,” he says once, voice shaking. “Even when you disappear into yourself, I still feel you. I see you.”

He holds your face like you’re breakable even though you’re probably the stronger one. His kisses taste like stardust and grief and stubborn hope.

And when he tells you he loves you? It’s not loud. Not shouted. It’s whispered at 3AM, against your temple, while the soul-self watches from the shadows. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

Rex Sloan

One word: surprise. It's admittedly something excitable knowing that the two of you are genuinely dating, the effort is definitely there on both ends. There are seldom who know of about you two this way, which is what you preferred, and what he respected.

Rex is a major snark, and a huge joker. Which goes hand in hand with your ability to make sarcastic remarks, and he often bounces of your remarks with an additional joke. He absolutely loves it, and it's often your predominant dynamic when out in the field.

Rex’s idea of “settling down” involves you both living in a high-rise apartment, reinforced with blast-proof walls (because, well… him). You made a few modifications too—enchantments to muffle explosions, floating bookshelves, and an invisible barrier over the windows that filters sunlight so you can actually be in the living room for more than five minutes without feeling like your soul’s on fire.

He jokes about your need to stay inside—“What, you’re not a fan of Vitamin D or chaos?”—but secretly, he loves it. It means more time curled up on the couch with you, wrapped in that massive black throw blanket he swears smells like lavender and lightning.

You’re still, grounded in emotion, darkness, and mysticism. He’s fire and motion, sarcasm and scars. He burns fast and bright, and you slow him down. You still time when his anxiety gets too loud. Sometimes you don't say a word—just touch his wrist gently and pause. Letting him catch up to the world. Or himself.

And when you’re spiraling, overwhelmed by waves of emotion that don’t belong to you, he doesn’t say much either. He doesn’t try to fix it. He just throws a hoodie over your shoulders, tells you you’re still hot even with your soul flickering on the ceiling, and sits by you. Lets you feel. Doesn’t flinch.

He LOVES that you can project your soul-self. Thinks it’s the coolest thing ever. “Babe, babe—can you use the soul-thingy to go see if the pizza guy’s almost here?” You pretend to roll your eyes. You do it anyway.

He also occasionally refers to your powers as “Witchy Vibes” with no disrespect intended. He actually means it as a compliment. He’s fascinated by how effortlessly you tap into the arcane. "You could straight-up Thanos the whole city if you wanted. And you're choosing to love me? Wild."

You’ve both got baggage. He doesn’t always talk about what was done to him, what he lost, how he was made into something meant to blow up. But you feel it—the way his emotions spike and flicker when his past is mentioned. You never push. Just open up your aura, give him a safe place to rest.

You’re used to silence being sacred. He’s not. But over time, he gets it. He starts understanding that your quiet doesn’t mean distance. Sometimes your love is just… gentle gravity, not loud fireworks.

And when he slips up—because he does sometimes—he’s the first to own it.

He falls asleep with his hand loosely curled around your soul-self’s feathers. It calms him more than melatonin or meditation ever could. You don’t tell him it’s kind of adorable, because then he’d never do it again. But you watch him sometimes, the way his breathing slows, and you feel your own heart settle.

He loves kissing your forehead after a battle. “Still in one piece?” he murmurs, running a hand over your cheek. You nod, and he adds with a grin, “Damn shame, you’re so hot when you look haunted.”

He pretends to be annoyed when you use temporal stasis to freeze him mid-rant, but he secretly thinks it’s hilarious. He once spent twenty minutes frozen with a sock halfway off his foot, and you used the time to paint his nails black. He rocked the look for weeks.

You don’t really believe in fate. Not exactly. But there’s something undeniable about the way his chaos and your calm fit together like two halves of a broken sigil. You're his anchor in the storm. And he? He’s the light that flickers in your darkest nights—messy, reckless, human light.

“I’m not easy,” he tells you once, eyes unusually serious. “I talk too much, I break shit, and I’ve hurt people. I don’t… deserve you.”

You look at him, your soul-self swirling behind you, power and pain and purity all wrapped together. “You’re right,” you say. Then you lean in and kiss him, slow and sure. “But you’re mine.”

[caamboys]

What will your future spouse love about you?

pile 1-3

PILE ONE

🎶 blood orange - saint🎶

“ i like to see you live for more, you said it before, you wish id seen the saint you were before “

-

what they like about you mentally?

they like that you’re curious, energetic and a bit careless when you talk. they admire that you allow yourself to be who you are unapologetically. your future spouse has a more rigid, contained approach to life. they view you as someone who doesn’t hold themselves back, who speaks and acts freely without restraint. something about this pile screams freedom, that is what they like about you personality wise. when you stand on what is right, and don’t hesitate to call out what is wrong. even if it causes strife or problems, they admire your ability to speak the truth and be yourself despite the pressure of society. they might like to bicker or tease you just so you guys can have banter together, they think it’s hot to see you be fierce for what you believe in. they like to debate with you.

what do they like about you physically?

something about your appearance or demeanor is otherworldly. you have a dreamy aspect to the way you look, sometimes when they look at you it feels surreal to them. you have an aesthetically pleasing ethereal vibe to the way you dress, or even look naturally. this pile might have sleepy eyes, or dark under eyes, or even dark eyes in general and they think that it’s hot. i see here theyre very attracted to you when you’re relaxed or in a state of calmness. im seeing someone sitting, with bed hair and sleep in their eyes, and your future spouse absolutely simping over it. another thing they will like is if this pile may have gone through some sort of transformation or change. they admire that about you as well. if you haven’t had any big transformation, they like when you take on different aesthetics and constantly switch up the way you dress or the makeup styles you do. you’ll go through multiple phases style-wise while you guys date and they’ll love it.

overall energy: pile one, I kept channeling so many different personality traits, so many different physical attributes. it was so hard to hone in one certain aspect they enjoy, because the next card would be describing a completely different energy. you have many different qualities your future spouse appreciates all the same. at first I was channeling them being attracted to you in a youthful energetic energy, then i started channeling them liking you when you’re in a darker energy. your future spouse just likes you overall lmao.

side note: you’re multidimensional and your future spouse is highly aware of this, and they admire you for it so don’t be afraid to show off all the sides of yourself. I love the polarity between what they prefer mentally versus physically. mentally they admire your more intellectually charged energy, while physically they like your dreamy relaxed energy. you can shapeshift around them! they like that lol

pile two

🎶ILLIT - Magnetic 🎶

🎶“This time i want You you you you, like it’s magnetic“

“ baby, you’re my crush, you’re my crush “ 🎶

what do they like about you mentally?

they love your optimism. either you or your future spouse has dealt with or currently deals with anxiety, depression or grief. they admire your ability to overcome dark things and continue to be hopeful and forgiving. you have a sense of mental peace in the midst of the all the anguish in the world, or even in the anguish in your life that they can’t help but find attractive. your ability to remain harmonious, kind and loving despite hardships around you is something they love. you have a sense of renewal, uplifting and raising things that were once low. it’s giving phoenix rising from the ashes. your ability to sacrifice darkness in order to create light is something they admire.

what they like about you physically?

pile two, your future spouse thinks your eye candy😭. I literally channeled the word “ trophy prize”. they think dating you is a once in a lifetime opportunity because youre so attractive. they loveeee your hair. some specific confirmation for this pile are curly hair, blonde hair, facial hair; if none of those resonate don’t mind that because hair in general is something they absolutely adore about you. they love your style, something about it gives effortless and confident to them. I just heard your future spouse feels proud walking next to you. another thing i channeled was age difference, so if you’re younger than them they like that about you, and if you’re older than them they like that too, any age gap in general just switch to what applies. another thing i heard is the way you walk, as if you’re walking on air. they like your legs. okay pile two whatever makes you feel more confident around them, whether it be a certain makeup look, a certain dress or outfit, the way you style your hair is KEY to their attraction. something you do that makes you feel confident, whatever that may be, is what will make them simp over you. i just keep hearing your confidence is so sexy to them. your future spouse definitely puts you on a pedestal.

overall energy: they love your LIGHT. this pile was very easy and breezy, and i feel like it’s reflecting you. when you’re in a happy, positive energy they feel like it radiates out of you. when you’re playful and lighthearted around your future spouse this what they love about you. this was such a cute read oh my gosh

side note: whoever your future spouse is, please reaffirm and validate to them you are NOT out of their league. like i previously mentioned they definitely put you on a pedestal, i would just hate the idea of them feeling unworthy or insecure because of how highly they view you. so give them some extra validation and compliments when you come across them.

pile three

🎶 get on your knees - Nicki Minaj ft Ariana Grande🎶

🎶“ baby just get on your knees “

“ say pretty please, say pretty please “🎶

-

what do they like about you mentally?

I’m not gonna lie, pile three your future spouse is a little dark! & i think they’re attracted to the darkness within you. they don’t like things pure and clean, unlike like pile two they prefer things to be a bit heavier. they like when you’re obsessive or possessive over them. I think your spouse has very similar thought patterns as you, so it’s a balance and flow between the two of you. reciprocating what the other is giving out. the energy feels heavily attached to one another. they love your darker energy. they want to explore all of your kinks, and fantasies. this is kinda fucked up but 😭 they like it when you get jealous over them. like i said this energy feels heavily reciprocated so you guys could be the couple who enjoys teasing and making each other jealous. I don’t think it’s solely your future spouse who likes this dark energy, i think it’s you both sharing in it. that aside, they like how you’re relationship material, the way you view loyalty and commitment is attractive to them. they like to comfort you, and reassure you. they like when you think of them as your protector, your guardian.

what do they like about you physically?

height difference. you could be shorter than them, or taller than them but either way they love that about you. if you have round features, like a round face, or big round eyes they love that. im getting that your future spouse is incredibly attracted to your body. if you’re a woman, they really love your boobs. if you’re a man, they love your hands. I’m just getting something about your body shape. curvy or petite, they’re very attracted to your body shape. if you workout they love that about you. that aside, your future spouse thinks its incredibly cute to watch you think hard about something. I’m channeling someone staring off into the distance with a focused, scrunched up face as they ponder something, and your future spouse thinking “ they’re so adorable“ lmao. they think you’re cute when you get angry or irritated.

overall energy: this gives me such youthful,immature puppy love energy lmao! but it’s cute! your future spouse likes your clingy, possessive, and fiery traits. they like to see you get passionate about something, when you have a spark in your eyes.

side note: be careful of codependency in this relationship !! 🗿

[urprettylildoe]

yandere demon who's tricked you into making a deal with him.

you've grown up roughly. while you watched everyone around you born into the world with a silver platter in their mouths, you've had to settle for scraps and leftovers. you're sick of it.

so when a man as devilishly handsome as him wanders into the life, promising you a life of wealth and luxury, who are you to refuse the opportunity?

oh, and he's true to his promise. you've got everything at your fingertips: status, money, connections. people admire you when you walk into rooms. and it's all starting to get to you as well.

but all good things come to an end.

"i heard about your little speech today," you turn your head in the direction of that velvety voice to find him sprawled out on the plush bed of your dreams, his hair spread out like a halo, contradicting to the grin on his lips that screams trouble.

you hum, choosing to glance at your reflection in the mirror and fix your collar. it's true; what he says, and you're quite proud of it yourself. "Mm, so you have." the people attending were eating right out of your palm.

he chuckles, sitting up on his palms, "can't say m'not impressed. after all, you have come a long way from your own life." you fail to notice that the glint in his eyes is different.

you smile, hands resting on your hips, "it's gonna help my image for next week's gala" padding across the room, you look through the designer in your closet, "speaking of; what should i wear? blue? yellow? red?"

"Interesting," he hums.

as you ponder to yourself, a hand closes itself around yours. his lips touch your ear.

"It's such a shame that your time's up." he coos wickedly, voice sinful. your chest constricts. no, what is he talking about?

it can't be...

you exclaim and rip your arm out of his grasp, eyes wide and legs feeling like limp noodles. "but the contract said —"

"three years," he repeats, watching it dawn on you, and you can tell there's not an ounce of pity in his empty chest that beats with nothing. "and if i recall correctly, we made the deal on this fateful day, exactly three years ago."

your chest heaves. you can't lose everything, not after you've reached the top. "please, I need more time."

his gaze is hungry, unwilling to indulge your wishes any longer, "the more you have, the more you want, angel." his hand slithers up stroke your hair, "and i've been oh, so patient for all this time, but a deal's a deal.

and it's about time you kept your part, hm?"

you recoil, feet moving towards the door before he materialises in front of you, hand on the small of your back to steady you against him and smell the delicious salt of your tears.

he smiles, albeit condescendingly, kissing your tears and lapping them up. "now, let me have your soul. promise to handle you so gently when we're down in hell, angel."

it's on you for trusting him.

and don't worry, he'll make sure the world moves on without you, when you're down in the deepest, darkest pits, sitting on his lap and tainted with ruin.

[zarnzarn]

Hob Gadling as a husband is vastly different than Hob Gadling as a boyfriend.

Dream had known this vaguely- held old memories of how things settle after marriage, how arguments become commonplace with contentment, how people grow out into the reassurance to become different people.

What he wasn't quite expecting was the certainty.

He had no idea how much Hob was holding back in their courtship- or how insecure he must have felt, perhaps, to be so reserved. Dream had done his best to assuage the other's idiocies as they came up- why there was surprise that he would never choose to deal with this and that latest sycopanth when he had been tipped off that his husband was waiting for him at home in new clothing, he still doesn't know- but there annoyingly still seemed to have been hidden trepidations that he couldn't root out.

But proposing marriage seemed to have thrown all of this out of the window. The hidden steel-backed spine that Hob has had to prop him up all these years shines through much more freely now, and Hob is less and less afraid to show it.

("If I'd known how much you'd change if I married you," He'd snarled during one of their worst fights. "I'd have thought better of it."

Hob had put his hands on his hips. "Oh, is that what we're doing now? Alright, then." He'd poked his right hand into Dream's chest roughly, then held it out, one eyebrow raised. "Take the ring off then. No, you want a fucking divorce, take the damn ring off yourself, Dreamlord. Go ahe-"

"That's what I thought," Hob had said with due smugness 48 hours later- as was his right- as he slipped coffee and held the newspaper up for both of them. Dream hummed, curled in his lap and idly tracing his fingers over the many bruises over his husband's neck, and privately congratulated himself for the stroke of luck he finally seemed to have found, winning over a man who both loved him and liked him.)

"If you can't handle even the land parcel you currently have without Dream having to intervene every decade," Hob snaps now, crossing his arms as he glares at the Weavers of the Sa-Inaa'l galaxy. "How do you even have the audacity to ask for more?"

They hiss at him, raising their mandibles in threat. Hob raises an eyebrow back.

"It is not enough for our Weavers," The Elder says, voice even. "We cannot sustain on what we have."

"Not enough for your Weavers, or not enough for your greed?" Hob shoots back. "I've heard that the Sa-Inaa'l is being patronized now by the Western Forces. Just because you're willing to whore out your ancient art for money-"

"We do business with the Dream King, peasant ape," One of them snarls, banging a fist on the table. "We do not bargain with the likes of you!"

"Mind your tongue," Dream says mildly. "He is my husband in my ways, his ways and yours. Also, he is older than most of you."

"He is not even of royal blood!" The Elder bursts out, the first show of emotion from them that Dream has seen from them since they were a juvenile. "Surely this is unbefitting of your station!"

"Oh, because you're so befitting of yours. How much have you lost in profit within one year again?"

"You are out of place!" One of the younger ones shouts. It is amusing as always when they look Dream's way after saying it, as if Dream is in any way capable of putting Hob back in any places whatsoever. Dream is lucky if he gets Hob to listen to him once a week. Dream has not won a single conversation about food since the rings slid onto their fingers. They are quite satisfied with this setup, overall. "You are nothing but filthy peasant scum."

"Filthy peasant scum who is right about his information," Hob snaps. "Don't think we don't know that you're trying to distract us from the topic. Also fuck you."

Dream stirs and stops admiring the pitiful expressions on the Weaver's faces- honestly the farmer's market suffer his husband more than they are, the dramatic things- to look over at his husband, frowning at the last bit. He cannot decide whether that was hurt or frustration. Better not to take the risk.

He stands. "As entertaining as this has been," He cuts into the shouting. "My husband is correct. You will not receive any more land than you have. Also- my consort is worth a hundred generations of your Elders. Do not try to ever say or imply otherwise, or I shall make you regret it."

They are all cowering in the corner when he is finished speaking. He dips his head in dismissal and they shakily bow and scatter out.

Hob huffs as he watches them go, scowling. Dream drifts over and presses a kiss to his cheek. "I hope you don't believe their words, lover."

"I stopped feeling insecure about this whole prince thing the fifth time you shoved me into a scratchy outfit, ducks," Hob replies. He softens as he turns to Dream, and kisses his cheek back. "Don't worry."

"I worry," Dream returns. "I love you."

Hob smiles. It is not as wide and awe-filled as it used to be, and Dream feels pleasure hum in his throat at the sight of it. "I know."