#Joe Rantz x reader

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

✨️Masterlist 1✨️

John Egan:

I'll come pick it up after / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / End /

Did you just kiss me?

Alright, bet!

Protect You

Back to black

Until you come back home / 2 /

Stop trying to feel everything

Inventor

Soft and prude

Small space

Run!

You want my jacket?

Kiss me before you leave

I hate / love you

Princess and the fool

I have a plan

You're like me, but better

New Girl

Never felt so...

Too Sweet

Chicken

Callum Turner:

Co- Stars / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 /

Qué serà serà

Finals season

Joe Rantz:

Training / 2 /

Theseus Scamander

Young, dumb in love

Curtis Biddick

Daylight

Your idiot?

You have to live

Gale Cleven

Told you she was real

Who did this to you?

Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

Therapist

Ronald Speirs

Disguise

John Brady

Misunderstanding

Austin Butler

Fame / 2 / 3 / 4 /

[floralcyanide]

ʙᴏʙʙʏ's ɢɪʀʟ

(joe rantz x fem!reader)

Joe has a major crush on you, but you're Bobby's girl. Or so he thinks.

✣ warnings: cursing, mentions of fighting

✣ word count: 1.4k

✣ author’s note: I wish I had more time to work on this, but I've been busy with work, and a friend has been in town so ): I will definitely post more Joe though. hopefully it'll be better quality lol I just wasn't sure of what to write for Joe specifically so this is sort of a brain dump.

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

Joe Rantz has a major crush on you, but you’re Bobby’s girl- or that’s what he thought. 

The first time Joe sees you is when the team meets Bobby, their new coxswain. You had tagged along as you followed Bobby everywhere he went, as he did you. The two of you were as thick as thieves. It made Joe a little jealous because he thought you were attractive, and Bobby didn’t seem like the type to have a girl on his arm all the time. Don’t get him wrong, Joe respects Bobby. But he seemed more focused on other things rather than dating. Joe watched you that whole day when his attention wasn’t on rowing. As the weeks of practice continued, the more the boys got to know you. Plus, the more they improved, the more you cheered them on. You took pride in getting the boys in the boat to do better than before. And the more you pushed them from the dock, much like Bobby did in his seat, the more they showed out for you, especially Joe. Joe would catch you smiling at him, and he’d smile back but would quickly recover. You’re Bobby’s girl.

After the team’s first win, you’re glued to Bobby’s side at the celebratory party. Joe tries to keep his eyes off you and your stunning outfit but fails most of the night. At one point, you separate from Bobby to converse with Don and Chuck for a little while. Then, you find Joe, who is tucked away in the back of the gymnasium. He quickly looked away from you, not to give himself away.

“Enjoying the party?” you ask, nursing your punch glass.

“Not really my scene,” Joe shrugs.

“Oh,” you nod, “What is your scene, then?”

“The library, usually. Or the boat, of course.”

“I’d say so. You’re great at rowing. I love watching you all.”

Joe blushes at that, “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, Bobby pulls the needle off the record player on stage, forcibly introducing Don as the live music for the night. You and Joe watch, amused, as the boys shove Don across the stage and to the piano bench. Don dug his heels into the stage floor the best he could, to no avail. He nervously looks out at the crowd before beginning to play. 

“Wanna dance?” you ask Joe.

He hesitates for a moment before answering, “Sure.”

The two of you dance along to the music, singing along as well. Joe tries not to let himself get too deep in his head about how close you are to him. You sense this, trying not to get too handsy despite your inner desire to. You leave room between the two of you for it to be casual. When the song ends, you kiss Joe on the cheek and go to find Bobby. Joe’s cheek burns the rest of the night as he reaches up to brush his fingers across it a few times. He wanted to make sure what had happened was real.

Bobby encourages you to tag along with the team to the East Coast. This race was significant for the boys and would throw them off if you weren’t there. Bobby especially- Joe even more. On the train there, you sit with Bobby. You’re mid-conversation about the paper he’s reading when suddenly, Joe lunges at Chuck. You hurry to stand from your seat and pull them apart, following Joe to the other side of the train when he hurries away from the group.

You stand there momentarily as Joe catches his breath, his face beet red.

“What was that all about?”

Joe brushes you off, not making eye contact. You sigh and sit next to him.

“Chuck probably didn’t mean it like that, Joe,” you put a hand on his shoulder, “Even if he did, you know his jokes are shit anyway.”

Joe cracks a smile at that, glancing over at you without moving his head, “Yeah.”

Before you can say anything else, Chuck comes to apologize, and you get up and leave them to it. When you return to your seat, Bobby is smirking knowingly.

“What?” you ask, already knowing what’s gonna come out of his mouth.

“Nothing,” Bobby says, returning his eyes to the paper he was still reading.

“Just say it,” you sigh.

“You guys should kiss already.”

You snort, “I don’t think Joe likes me like that, Bobby.”

“It’s so obvious,” Bobby slams his paper down on his lap, “He’s so obvious, you’re so obvious. Just get together!”

But of course, it’s not that easy. Joe keeps his distance, so you keep yours out of respect for him. 

Securing the win to head to the Olympics meant preparing to go to Berlin. So, training and practice is never-ending. The stress is, too, and it bleeds into you and Bobby’s usually chill dynamic.

Everyone had already left the gymnasium except Joe one day after strenuous practice. He decided to piddle around for a little while. He had nowhere else to be, anyway. Joe sees you and Bobby getting into it by the boat and hangs back to eavesdrop.

“You have got to get your head in the game, Bobby! Stop worrying about everything else and keep your focus on the team.”

“It’s kind of hard when he’s making mistakes because he can’t stop thinking about you. It’s becoming a problem, and I think you need to fix it.”

Joe’s ears perk up at that. He couldn’t possibly be talking about him, right? That’s when you shove Bobby into the water. You wish he’d realize it isn’t that easy to solve.

Bobby resurfaces, pushing his hair from his eyes, “You bitch!” he squeaks in shock.

You start laughing like a maniac at his expression, and Joe is left wondering what is really going on between you and Bobby.

“What’s going on here?” Joe steps out, walks to the dock, and offers Bobby a hand from the water.

“Typical sibling banter,” you wave Joe off.

“Sibling?”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m Bobby’s adopted sister.”

Joe’s face is one of shock. Bobby is behind the blonde, keeping him from throwing you into the water next. 

“Makes sense now,” Joe chuckles, blocking Bobby, “If I were you, I’d skedaddle.”

You make a run for the gymnasium quickly, Bobby trailing just a little behind. Joe shakes his head, relieved that you aren't Bobby’s girl. From then on, he paid more attention during practice now that he wasn’t plagued with thoughts of you and Bobby together.

The Olympics come quickly, and you’re nearly as nervous as Bobby. Berlin is an interesting sight, considering every surface is covered in Nazi propaganda. You can sense Bobby’s nervousness about it and try your best to ease him. Being someone of Jewish descent in a place like this was not easy. Don isn’t doing too well health-wise when you all arrive and skips out on the opening ceremony. You watch the USA walk with pride from the stands, your eyes on Joe the whole time.

You’re a ball of nerves during the qualifying race, but of course, that goes away when Bobby pulls his magic stunt, and the boys win yet again, making an Olympic record.  You’re beyond proud and can’t wait for how they compete for Gold.

The day comes for the final race, and when Bobby starts off delayed, your heart jumps out of your body. You’re on pins and needles the whole time, urging the boys to push. When the results of who won aren’t immediately apparent, you hold your breath and hope and pray, even, that your boys won. And sure enough, the USA takes the gold. You shoot up from your seat, cheering louder than anyone else around. When you finally are able to meet up with the team, you slam into Bobby full force in a bone-crushing hug.

When you pull away, Joe immediately approaches you and wraps his arms around you. 

“You did it!” you grin. 

“We did it,” Joe smiles, “But we couldn’t have done it without you and Bobby.”

You and Joe stare at each other momentarily, and Joe seems to be deep in thought about something. 

“Just kiss me, Joe,” you blurt, your arms still around his neck.

Joe throws caution to the wind and kisses you in front of the whole world, finally able to breathe with you pressed against him. The boys cheer, and Bobby stands there with his arms crossed, shaking his head with a smile. Finally, you have taken your leap of faith. But you were a stubborn Moch, after all.

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx

Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader

wc: 4,600

Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college. 

As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way. 

It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars. 

Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time. 

“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.” 

You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson. 

“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe. 

Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.

Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind. 

Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.

It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.

When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.

Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.” 

You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.

“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”

“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”

Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest. 

Her hands—

Her hands—

What is wrong with you, Joe?

Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin.  Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep. 

…

Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains. 

“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued.  The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before. 

The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.

As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.

Right in front of you! What is going on?

“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”

Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.

There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”

About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags. 

Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off. 

Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.

“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.

“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear. 

When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world. 

You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”

You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.

…

The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.

“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.” 

“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”

“Ouch, that hurts me.”

“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right. 

“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.” 

Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”

“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.” 

Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout. 

Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”

“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”

“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.

He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you.  He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too. 

His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”

“Then who else would I be?” 

“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious. 

“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”

“You too are good friends then?”

“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape. 

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.

Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”

“None of the girls from high school? Never?”

“Not one.”

You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do. 

People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”

“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt. 

“Can I walk you home?”

“I would love that.”

Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?” 

“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him. 

“His parents remind me of my own.”

Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”

“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”

“Hey now,”

“Sorry.” You take his hands.

He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.” 

Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.

When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”

…

The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away. 

He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.

…

Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. 

His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse. 

Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it. 

Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.

You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”

“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”

“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.

“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”

You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.

After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak. 

“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in. 

“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”

“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.

Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”

“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”

“I know.

“Really?”

“Pocock made sure I know.”

The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”

“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”

You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat. 

You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist. 

“Can I—may I kiss you?”

Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart. 

“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”

...

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.

-the author

[undercovernationalsuperstar]

NEW BAE ALERT!!!!

[starrvsn]

౨ৎ ּ ׅ ۫ ✧ 。BOYS IN THE BOAT ˚₊ ꒰ PRETTY LIKE YOU !

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

𝟒𝟏𝟏. some of the ficitonal characters from the boys in the boat, reactions to you giving them flowers :)

STAR LEFT A MESSAGE! hi friends! i know i haven't posted in a while but i just recently watched the boys in the boat and i absolutely loved it! especially the cast, full of fine talented men- so here's a little something about them with more to come! if you have any requests or ideas about them please let me know!

INCLUDES ⠆joe rantz, don hume, bobby mach, george hunt and chuck day (just some of the characters im partially attached to…)

BOBBY MOCH ⠆

after their first win of the season, you greet bobby with a bouquet of flowers themed after the school's colors— immediately giving him praise and compliments about their win today. you knew he had a rough past season with the last crew, now seeing him with a new crew he trusted, something he was so passionate about. you were excited for him!

when he asks where this all came from, you shrug the gesture off as if it was nothing. stating that the flowers just reminded you of him and just had to give them to him. a wide smile tugs on his lips as he accepts them, his hand caressing yours gently. he appreciated them more than you knew. pulling you close, he presses a kiss on the crown of your head. caring less about his damp uniform or the loud crowd around you, just you and him.

“thank you lovely, these are beautiful.”

DON HUME ⠆

he's absolutely speechless, it wasn't everyday a man would recieve flowers and don didn't think he would be one of them. his eyebrows jump to his hairline when he sees you at the entrance of the shell house with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. his breath hitches as he asks where you got them from and you reply kindly that they're for him, giving him a sweet smile which he returns. you wanted to congratulate him for making the team, it wasn't easy and all the effort he put in finally paid off. a faint blush falls on his cheeks as he takes them, a beautiful arrangement of daisy's and poppy's held by a piece of brown parchment. he takes your hand tugging you into a hug, squeezing you appreciatively. there weren’t enough words to describe how much he loved them,

"this bouquet might be just as pretty as you." now you blush, playfully slapping this arm as you continue to hold him close. he wanted to keep them alive for as long as he can and maybe get you a bouquet in return. later (few months) when he sneaks you into the dorms he see's the bouquet in a glass still thriving well, making your heart swell.

JOE RANTZ ⠆

he's gotten several bouquets from several girls after winning gold in the olympics. he's received a many of gifts from different people but none of them felt as special as yours. when he saw you for the first time since their win in germany, you had planned to go out on a date to celebrate so when he comes to pick you up with his own bouquet in hand. imagine his surprise and delight when he sees you walk out of the building with your own bouquet in hand. he lets out a soft laugh in disbelief watching as you. a proud smile on your lips, almost skipping towards him.

"ever so original rantz?" you jokingly say, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. holding the flowers to him— they're almost identical to his except, he has your favorite flower in the bunch making your heart swell.

"i didn't know you were gonna get me flowers." he replies, ever so charming smile gracing his lips. you tell him you wanted to surprise him— a token of your appreciation for all that he's done, all the hard work he and all the other boys put in. he thanks you greatly, exchanging your bouquets. he presses a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips before interlocking hands and walking to your date destination.

GEORGE HUNT ⠆

george didn't really take mind to trivial things of interest like that, what his favorite flower was but he made a great deal to what yours were and he never missed the chance to give you flowers when he could— after any occasion he would give them to you. if you passed your exam or got into a fight, he'd get flowers to make it up to you. he didn't really expect to get his own flowers, as it really wasn't a thing.

so one day when practice was particularly grueling and draining, the last thing your boyfriend had expected was seeing you; with a small bouquet of flowers in your hands waiting outside the crews dorm. you were speaking with roger, keeping you company. "who are those for?" george announces himself, now standing between the two of you. you chuckle bidding roger goodbye as he leaves, now alone with your boyfriend— a timid smile forming.

"pretty flowers for a pretty boy." you proclaimed, holding out the bouquet to him. he huffs a laugh taking them carefully, admiring them. he raises a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, cradling your cheek— caressing it gently.

"these a perfect darling, just like you."

CHUCK DAY ⠆

“a new admirer giving you flowers? giving me a run for my money?” chuck eyes the bouquet in your hands, noticing that there was none of your favorite flowers in them— what kind of admirer were they? you let out a soft giggle that sounds like music to his ears. he won't lie, a slight pang of jealousy hits him at the thought of another man giving you flowers but he'd ask you another day.

"no silly, they're for you." you reply, standing from the bench to give them to him. he lets out a small breath of relief, practically melting at the gesture. he takes a hand that was stuffed in his pocket to take the flowers from you, eyeing them carefully. you tell him that some of the flowers had meaning— like the red tulips and daisy's meaning love. his gaze softens as you continue to explain, a loving smile gracing his lips as he admires your face and the bouquet. lovingly, he plucks a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear

"you're so sweet you know that." his hand running down your arm, grasping your hand gently rubbing your knuckles. you almost swoon— tilting your head in admiration "well you deserve the best, i hope you know." he knows, with you around it's hard to forget.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝑶𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 @inlovewithdilfss➬ 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒘/ 𝑱𝒐𝒆 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒛 ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ໒꒱✧. • “….𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒?”

𝑰𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝒑𝒘𝒑, 𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒊̈𝒆𝒔, 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒗ø𝒚𝒆𝒖̈𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒎, 𝒇𝒊̈𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊̈𝒏𝒈, 𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂, 𝒔𝒒𝒖̈𝒊̈𝒓𝒕𝒊̂𝒏𝒈, 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆 <333

.

.

“C’mon, baby. It’s okay…”

The softness of Joe’s raspy voice in your ear makes you shiver as he tries to coax you to open your legs.

You don’t know why you were being so shy since this whole thing was your idea.

“I like your eyes on me…”

Was what you had said late one night when he had climbed through your window for a impromptu visit just to catch you in the middle of changing and was immediately remorseful until you told him that it was okay, that you didn’t mind; in fact, he was more than welcome to watch you finish getting ready. So he did. There was something so sensual and strange about it that he couldn’t keep from asking..

“What else would you let me watch you do?”

That’s how you ended up here.

Naked back against his chest, legs hooked over his, with your ass snug against his clothed erection while he looked down over your shoulder as you touched yourself for him…or tried to.

Shyness had hit you last minute and even though you were wet and beyond excited to have his exact attention on you, you couldn’t get yourself to fall off that edge. You just couldn’t get over how you’d look, the mess, if he’d like the theory more than the practice.

Joe’s groan jolted you out of your thoughts as he cupped your tits, rolling the stiff nubs between his fingers before sucking hotly at your throat.

Wet gasps spill from your mouth, warmth rolling over in waves so strong that you don’t even notice when you start rolling your hips into your hand, thumbing messily at your clit and you quickly lose yourself.

But your hand gets tired from how many times you almost got yourself there before it faded and you whine in frustration. Joe’s watching you with rapt attention. Soft skin, prettily arched back, stiff peaks on your breasts just begging to be in his mouth while desperate noises fell from yours.

“Let me help you, angel”. Whispering against your lips as he tilts your chin up, his other hand trailing down to rest on top of yours and he’s reeling at how he can already feel your wetness without his fingers even close to being inside you.

You’re fighting internally because you know he could help. He’d be the best helper, actually. And even in the face of your reservations, he’d been so patient…which only served to make him hotter. Almost as if he was sensing your struggle, Joe leans down to kiss your cheek, effortlessly melting you.

“Please, sweets…can I see?”

And that’s all it takes to have your legs dropping open while his hand instantly drops to your heat, the thick fingers get slathered in your arousal right away. You let out a throaty moan at the gritty hiss Joe breathes in your ear as he lightly smacks your exposed clit, sticky strings clinging to his fingers.

“Mmm-fuck….you’ve made a mess, hmm?” Reducing you to a puddle as he coos lowly in your ear.

The response you had gets swiped straight from you when he dips his fingers between your soaked lips, dragging them up to the focus of your need. Still, his touch wasn’t picking up enough, and you needed more. “Faster,” you whine out, as you wrap an arms around his neck and pulling him back to the crook of your neck as he watches his fingers fuck in and out your dripping cunt. It felt so amazing, pleasure lighting through you and you cry out.

“Shh, I know. I’ll give you what you need,” he drawled, wet fingers thrusting into you with increasing speed. The arousal in his voice set your skin tingling, before another loud, wanton moan was torn from you when he began circling your clit in slick, firm circles. Even your own touch had never been this good.

Every noise you made, every involuntary jerk of your hips, spurred him on faster, to give you more.

Joe could feel his cock leak as your cries turned to wails the closer you got. Crooking his fingers every slide in, pounding the sensitive nerves inside your twitching cunt so deliciously that you white out, so overstimulated by the force of your own orgasm, you gush. Liquid spraying out around the digits stuffed in your tight hole. He pulses watching tears roll down your hot cheeks as he slows his hand to a soft caress, easing up on your nub, helping you ride out your orgasm until you go slack against him.

Slowly taking his fingers out, he brings them to his mouth, sucking on them and moaning as your taste hits his tongue. He looks down at your limp form and thinks that this is when you look prettiest.

Slick and sated.

pleaseremembertobathritualisticallyinyournearestbodyofholywater

♡︎ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀ😌

[saturnville]

candy bling, joe rantz.

pairing: joe rantz x black fem oc (cleotha jean). content: cleotha jean reminisces on her relationship with joe rantz. warning: more "modern" approach to their relationship. suggestive content. song: candy bling by mariah carey (I suggest you listen as you read). tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum

In the solitude of her room, Cleotha found herself surrounded by fragments of a past she had long tried to forget. She sifted through the contents of a dusty old box, memories flooded her mind with an intensity she hadn't felt in months. Each item she unearthed struck her heart in ways that made her uncomfortable, a relic of a love once consumed by every thought and emotion.

Among the treasures she tried to forbet lay a delicate silver anklet, its tiny bells tinkling softly as Cleotha held it in her hands. Memories of lazy summer days and whispered promises rushed back to her, painting vivid scenes of youthful romance and boundless dreams. 

“What’s this?” Cleotha asked as she was handed a small, velvet bag. Her movements were sluggish as she peeled herself off the pillow she and Joe shared. The soft moan she pushed out was enough to make his insides stir again. 

Joe pulled his arm behind his head and drummed his fingers against his sheet-covered thigh. A small smile pulled on his lips as he shrugged. “Open it.” 

Cleotha held the sheet to her chest and shook the bag. Jingle, jangle. Her eyebrow quipped as she opened the bag and dumped the content in her hand. Two thin gold chains fell out, shining under the gaze of the sun. She hummed in awe as she fingered the chains delicately. “Two bracelets?” 

“Bracelet and anklet,” Joe replied with extra emphasis, a teasing tone underlying in his words. Cleotha, who knew exactly why he bought it, threw her head back in laughter. She muttered, “You’re disgusting.” Still, she held her wrist out for him to place the bracelet on it. 

Joe pulled the sheet back to reveal her brown legs. He readjusted their positions so he was in between her legs, her foot against his bare thigh. Cleotha watched intently as he hooked the gold chain around her ankle. He smiled in pride.

“You like it?” Cleotha asked, rotating her foot in a circle. Joe hummed and palmed her thigh, hooking her leg around his waist. He brought his lips to hers, nipping and sucking at the plushness there. Then, he made his way back down, pecking at her collarbone down to her calf once more, placing her leg over his shoulder.

“I do. I’ll like it even more in a second. Lay back.”

He made her feel so beautiful that day, glistening like jewels beneath the sunlight. Next to it, a necklace adorned with the initials 'J' gleamed in the dim light. She tried to smile as she recalled when she first received it.

“Joe!” she gasped. “This is beautiful! Will you put it on me, please?” 

“Of course. Turn around for me.” 

The smile on her face was childlike as she stood back to chest with her lover. His warm hands pushed her hair over her shoulder then wrapped the chain around her neck. The gold complimented her skin beautifully. He connected the link to the clasp and tapped her hip when he finished. “Let me see, sweetheart.” 

Cleotha Jean grinned as she posed in front of him, the J on her chest smiling back at him. Joe nodded in approval, “Looks pretty, baby.” 

“You think so?” she gushed, running her fingers off the pendant. “Want a closer look?” Cleotha pulled him in by his belt loops and pushed him against the bed, climbing on top of him. SHe wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed butterfly-like kisses all along his face. His cheeks were stained red from her lips,

Joe’s eyebrow raised in amusement as he welcomed her affection, His eyes dropped to the pendant that swung against her chest. “Yes ma’am.” 

But it was the worn envelope nestled at the bottom of the box that stirred something deep within Cleotha's soul. With trembling fingers, she traced the creases of the paper, feeling the weight of years of unspoken words and unanswered prayers. As she unfolded the letter, the words spilled forth like a long-forgotten melody, each line a poignant reminder of a love that had once defined her very existence. 

The park was their favorite place to be. Especially during the month of September. The sun still hugged them, but didn’t suffocate them with her warmth. Nature sung its harmonious song, the animals danced with each other amongst the trees, and the grass was still a bright green. It was a peaceful place to be. 

It was like every other weekend; Cleotha Jean and Joe were sprawled across a picnic blanket with a basket of food propped open in front of them. Joe was lying on his back while Cleotha sat upright munching on strawberries and coloring in her book. 

“Cleo,” Joe said. Cleotha hummed and continuing coloring her flower. “I wrote you a letter.” 

Her coloring stopped. She swallowed the remainder of her strawberry and dropped her colored pencil. Joe reached behind him for a white envelope that he managed to tuck under the blanket without her noticing. He extended it to her, which she took with thanks. 

Joe watched as Cleotha curiously peeled open the envelope and retrieved the letter. It was folded in threes, and was filled from top to bottom. 

My forever sweetheart, Cleotha Jean, 

You don’t understand that I wake up everyday and give thanks that you walked into my life. I felt that I was nothing but a poor kid with seemingly nothing to offer the world until you showed me otherwise. 

I didn’t think it was possible to love someone more than I loved myself. Your existence proves me otherwise. 

I often wonder if you know that you are a gift in human form. Wrapped in a brown shell, garnished with gold. I wish to keep you with me forever, as long as you’ll have me.

I often think about our future together. How I’m going to marry you as soon as we graduate. We’ll buy a house, travel the world, and have children. I’m still banking on 3, but whatever you want, I’ll be content. As long as I’m with you, I’ll take anything.

I want to be yours forever, if you’d have me. 

Will you marry me? 

The letter flew from Cleotha’s hands as she screamed loudly. The birds above her croaked at her sudden outburst. Her hands flew over her mouth and she finally made eye contact with her lover, who’d positioned himself on one knee with an open box in his hand.

The ring was beautiful. It was dainty, just as she liked, and a rich shade of gold. His eyes were hopeful as he awaited her reaction. 

“Will you—“

“Yes!” Cleotha replied gleefully. She threw her arms around him so wildly that he fell backward into the grass. His laughs were music to her ears. “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you.” 

Joe smiled, “Yeah?” 

Cleotha bit back a teary smile and nodded. “Yeah. It’s you and me forever.”

Her sweet baby. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until she finished the letter and a puddle of tears smudged his neat handwriting. Cleotha folded the letter and put it back in the box, right next to the ring she took off months prior. It stared back at her and she forced herself to look away. She didn’t want to keep it, but Joe insisted she did, saying “it’s yours. I will never take back what rightfully belongs to you.”

With each memory unearthed, Cleotha found herself transported back to a time when love was pure, and the future seemed to be filled with promise. Yet, as she traced the contours of her past, a sense of longing stirred within her, a yearning for the man who had once held her heart in his hands.

She should’ve been over him by now, she scolded herself. Their union had ended more than a year ago; what was she holding onto? Well, another side of her probed. A three year relationship that began in college, an engagement, wedding planning, house hunting, and a planned future. It all dimished at the blink of an eye. It would take more than a year to recover from such emotional trauma. 

Cleotha befriended a bottle of red wine after that. It was sweet and savory, just like him. She chuckled lowly as her fingers dapped away the drop that fell from the corner of her lips. She should slow down, she figured, but it was the anniversary of a love that she cherished more than herself. She owed it to herself to get wine drunk and eat popcorn, right?

She tucked her feet under herself and poured another glass, humming a tune, though nothing particular, to herself. Just as she brought the glass to her lips, a knock sounded on her door. Her eyebrow quipped as her eyes darted to a nearby clock. It was 9:32 on a Saturday night, who could have been at her door. 

“Hold on!” she called out, glass in hand as she stumbled lightly to reach the door. She cursed as she stepped on a shoe that she kicked off in the entryway, toyed with the locks, and peeled the door open. “Oh…” 

If anyone would have told her he’d be standing in front of her right now, she would have called them a liar. The communication had been severed eons ago, only having heard from him when she got the job promotion she had been praying for. Any other conversation, interaction, or moment of desire, was a faction of her imagination. Yet, here he stood, a ghost from her past, with sorrow etched in his eyes and regret weighing heavily on his shoulders. And she had no clue how to handle it. 

She didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or throw herself in his arms. He looked so different than when she last saw him. He was broader, presumably from working out to keep in shape as he moved on from his athlete days. His hair was still platinum, but it was slicked back rather than messible touseled, though she loved it that way. His eyes, so gorgeous and blue, were so sad and empty. 

“Hi, Cleo…” 

Cleotha’s eyes welled with tears. She’d yell, scream, and put him in his place in the morning, but right now, all she could do is throw her arms around his neck and cry woefully into his shirt. With a voice choked with an emotion, she found the strength to say, “I missed you.” Her voice trembled with vulnerability. “I missed you so much.”

And in Joe's eyes, Cleotha saw a flicker of longing that mirrored her own. They stood in the doorway of her home without the exchange of words. The tears and gentle touches spoke loud enough. Maybe in due time, what was broken could be repaired, and the union that began years ago, could be recovered. Just maybe.

—

likes are great, but feedback is desired as well, friends! thanks for reading!

[applebutter-and-cinnamon]

On the Open Water

Pairing: Joe Rantz x OC (Sadie)

Warnings: This is entirely based on the character from the movie and is not meant to disrespect the real person or their families/ experiences.

Description: Joe takes Sadie out for a boat ride. Yes, this is heavily influenced by the scene from the movie. All credit goes to the original writers of the script for the idea.

Boys in the Boat Masterlist

The first time she'd laid eyes on the tall figure that was Joe Rantz, her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks flushed red. Thankfully, he'd been distracted by his crew who were crowded around him as they walked out to the water. She'd heard about the junior boat, they were one of the hottest topics on campus at the moment - that the 8 of them had managed to beat out so many others was remarkably impressive.

Joe was tall, broad-shoulder and muscular in a way that she'd never seen. His blonde hair looked golden in the afternoon sunshine and he had a laugh that echoed easily in the air. It was plain as day that he was very, very handsome. She allowed herself a few blissful moments to watch as he walked away, but forced herself to turn back to her homework that was due the very next day.

The second time Sadie saw Joe Rantz was at a school-sanctioned party after he and his crew won their first race. She'd been doing her best to keep her gaze from where he was sitting, but considering the party was in their honor, it was hard not to let her attention wander back to him. Joe was seated between Roger Davis and George "Shorty" Hunt at a circular table just off to the side of the area that had been marked off for the dance floor.

Roger and Shorty were leaning close to Joe, shoving his shoulders a bit and whisper-yelling at him as he shook his head, a red flush tinting his cheeks.

Sadie was sitting comfortably at her own table surrounded by some of her roommates who had become some her best friends. Lily and Angela were laughing as they slowly drank the colorful cocktails in their chilled glasses - the only refuge from the increasingly hot room.

"What do you think, Sadie?" Lily asked her, drawing her attention away from the men of the hour. Lily had always been the more outgoing of their bunch, blonde and as beautiful as she was she drew men to her as easily as she breathed the air around them.

Angela was equally gorgeous with long hair that trailed down her back and dark as a raven's wing. Her lips were always painted bright red in contrast to her bright white teeth. She was incredibly smart, witty, and was always making them laugh with some sort of remark made just under her breath.

Sadie smiled, tucking a loose piece of curled hair behind her ear. "What do I think about what?"

Angela and Lily shared a glance, smirking at one another, "About how Joe Rantz has been glancing over at you every few minutes since he saw you sitting there."

"He has not," She protested. Her eyes widened as she took in their honest expressions and twisted, smug lips. "Really," she continued, "I doubt he knows I'm here. What is more likely is that he's looking at one of you."

Lily shook her head, "Looks like we're about to find out."

"What do you mean?" Sadie asked, turning her head to follow the direction of Lily's quirked brow. Joe Rantz had begun to stand from his seat and George was patting him heartily on his shoulder, while Roger looked straight in the direction of their table. He was leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together and grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

Joe's eyes caught hers, eyeing the red that crept into her cheeks for a split second before she looked away from him. Casting worried looks at her friends, "He's not coming this way, is he?"

Sadie was not as confident as Lily or as quick-witted as Angela, but she was enthusiastically kind and had a heart twice as large as anyone else. She prided herself on seeing the best in others even though most times she couldn't quite see the best in herself.

Lily and Angela didn't answer, instead they made to stand giving her a supportive thumbs-up before hurrying away from the table. Angela winking at her and her giving her a large smile.

The sound of footsteps nearing the table drew her attention away from her giggling friends. Sadie felt distinctly aware of every hair out of place on her head and the dampness at the small of her back from the heat of the room.

"Hello," Joe's baritone sounded next to her and Sadie looked up into startlingly, clear blue eyes in answer. His blonde hair was combed neatly atop his head and his mouth was softened into a small, hesitant smile. "My name's Joe - Joe Rantz."

She offered him her hand in greeting and he extended his much larger hand to accept it. "It's nice to meet you," she smiled, proud of how she held her voice steady in front of the man she'd been admiring from afar.

Sadie offered him her own name, which he repeated softly, almost to himself. He seemed to be testing the way it tasted on his lips and she couldn't deny the butterflies that took flight in her stomach at hearing him swirl her name around inside of his mouth.

She gestured towards one of the empty seats in an offer for him to sit down. Joe hesitated, eyes downcast before flicking back up to hers, "I was actually wondering if, maybe, you might want to dance with me?"

Sadie's smiled encouragingly, "I'd love to."

Accepting his outstretched hand, she let him lead her to the dance floor. Where he pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the steadiness of his body against her own nervous one. Her heart was beating so hard that she could feel it in her fingertips and she glanced up at his face to determine if he could hear it.

Instead, she caught a look that was a little bashful and incredulous as he pulled her slightly closer than one might a friend. She stepped forward to make it easier for him, delighting in the red that grew at the tips of his ears.

The third time she saw Joe Rantz was beneath her window.

"What are you doing?" She asked, laughing as she pushed the window open.

He was beautiful in the moonlight, eyes wide in excitement and a broad grin taking over his face. "Do you want to go on a boat ride?" He looked up at her expectantly, no trace of any expectation that she would say no.

"Right now?" Sadie asked, voice full of laughter.

He shrugged, "Sure, why not."

She laughed, "I'll be right down." She hurried into her shoes, flinging her door open and ignoring the questions from Lily and Angela. She half-ran and half-stumbled her way down two flights of stairs to the door where Joe waited for her.

"Hi," she greeted, breathless as she pushed the door open.

Joe's grin was brighter than she'd ever seen. He reached for her and she stepped easily into his reach, one of his hands trailing down her arm to her hand which he took in his own. "Follow me," he said, leading her forward.

He must've already been to the University's shell house, because he led her to the dock where he had a small row boat tied securely. He offered her his arm and she climbed into the boat with unsteady legs.

Joe climbed in after her, the very picture of grace and set them off. The water was calm around them and as Joe rowed them away from shore, the symphony of the open water at night performed for them. Swirling water and soft breezes smelling of fresh spring flowers, carrying with it the smell of Joe's cologne.

She turned her head towards him and found his blue eyes already staring at her.

"You're going to row us into something if you don't pay attention to where we're going," she teased, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully.

Joe smirked, his expression the picture of confidence. "Of the two of us, remind me who has more experience out on the water," his voice drew her attention down to his lips, which morphed into something of a smug grin as he caught her slip.

Sadie glanced up quickly. "Obviously, it's me," she continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder pretending to have all of the confidence in the world.

Joe laughed softly next to her and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.

He stopped rowing, letting the current take hold once they were in the middle of the water and the boat began to drift slowly as it did.

"Do you like rowing?" Sadie asked, studying his expression. It was mostly hidden from her but as he tilted his head in contemplation the light from the moon illuminated him in a silver glow.

"I'm getting a job out of it," he shrugged. His voice took on a nonchalant tone but his eyes gave away his enjoyment for the sport.

Sadie nudged him with her shoulder, "You seem to be pretty good at it."

"Do I?" Joe smiled, blue eyes twinkling.

Sadie nodded, "You boys are going to become famous with the skill you have in your boat. Just wait, you'll see that I'm right and you'll forget all about me."

She turned her face away from him, not wanting to show him the expression that was likely painting her face.

Joe's calloused hand slid a long her cheek, gently guiding her gaze back to him. "I don't think I could forget you if I tried," he whispered, his voice so low she was sure she could only hear him because he was so close.

Her gaze dropped down to his soft lips again before flicking back up to his eyes. Joe didn't wait a moment and leaned forward, gently pressing their mouths together.

His lips were warm and so very soft against her own. He tasted of salt and something distinctly Joe that she ached for more of. She reached her own hand up, gliding her hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly into her mouth and twisted his head, deepening their kiss. Using the hand that wasn't caressing her face, he gripped onto her waist, just holding her softly against him.

She cursed herself for pulling away first but her lungs were begging her for oxygen. They stayed close, resting their foreheads against one another. Joe's breath kissed the apples of her cheek as he exhaled.

"We should probably get back to the dorms before someone notices I'm gone," she whispered.

"I'll row us back," Joe hummed in agreement, though his hands remained where they were. "But, one more kiss couldn't hurt."

His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded as he looked at her, waiting for her permission.

Sadie slid her hand back into his soft, blonde hair and if they shared a few more kisses than their only witnesses were the full moon above them and the open water that surrounded them.

A/N: Would anyone be interested in reading any more about Sadie and Joe?

[luvlydeja]

I need this man real bad🤭

TikTok Creater:@bloodbqths

[crushribbons]

nsfw txt!

JOE RANTZ ——— who always chooses his words so carefully, finds that he simply cannot afford that luxury when he’s buried inside of her. it all comes pouring out of him like tidal wave, and the relief of it surprises him. “so good for me, so fuckin’ pretty; yeah, that’s it baby, come on, do it for me, give it to me!” the way she reacts to his praise drives away any self-control he once had and makes him want to pant in her ear for the rest of their lives. sometimes sweet (“you’re my girl, you know that? my beautiful girl.”) and sometimes venomous (“i know you can take me better than that, come on—don’t cry, you’re okay.”), but always desperate while he thrusts into her like he can fuse their bodies together if he tries hard enough. his sky-blue eyes have clouded into a navy lightning storm that darkens every time he fucks a little mewl out of her, strong arms stinging from the pain of her nails digging into them. “oh, god—gonna fill you up, doll, get you so full and messy and pretty,” and she’s shaking around him while he’s coming, and the urge to babble finally leaves him as he falls onto his back, blissful, exhausted.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Training

Joe Rantz X Ulbrickson!Reader

Summary: When Joe Rantz meets his coach's daughter. He develops a crush...

Warning: 18+/ blowjob/ Swearing/ Mean Joyce (she's a sweetheart, but in this, she's annoying)/ historical sexism/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: Guys! I just watched The boys in the Boat and I'm in love with Joe Rantz. Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy❤️

The first training for the new rowing team. Al Ulbrickson, his daughter and other people made their way to the dock. ‘’Honey, can you go upstairs? The boys need their maximum focus, it’s their first training and I don’t want them to be distracted by you.’’ Her father asked. Normally, she would’ve complained, saying it wasn’t fair. But her father was already stressed, so she nodded and went upstairs, to watch the training while she did her homework. She was studying to be a teacher, even though it wasn’t her first choice, she wanted to help design the boats, but engineering wasn’t an option for woman. ‘’Distracting, yeah, my outfit is distracting, its like a million degrees outside, try wearing a blouse!’’ she whispered, complaining about her father. She also wore pants, just like her mother. She liked skirts, but pants were better. She pulled her things out of her bag and started to work.

He was exhausted and his body hurt. The other guys on the team went away, but when he saw a light upstairs, he decided to let his curiosity win. She heard footsteps coming up, but when a man that was not her dad opened the door, she was surprised. But she recognized him, he was in class with her. ‘’Oh, sorry I thought the room was empty. ‘’ He said. ‘’Hey you’re Joe Rantz, right?’’ she asked. He looked at her, he thought that she was beautiful, and really cool for wearing pants. ‘’Yeah, but I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.’’ he said, shyly. ‘’Don’t worry, I’m Y/n’’ she extended her hand. They shook hands. His were rough, it showed that his body was tired. ‘’Rough day?’’ she asked. ‘’Yeah, what are you doing up here alone?’’ he asked. ‘’Uh, my dad is, uh, the coach’’ she mumbled. ‘’And he didn’t want me to be by the dock, he was scared that I would distract the boys.’’ She was nervous, but for no reason at all. He was really handsome, and it intimidated her, usually, she didn’t have trouble speaking with boys. But that blonde boy was making it hard to look at him in the eyes. ‘’Well, he’s right, you’re really pretty, and I would’ve been distracted.’’ He flirted. She blushed and bit her bottom lip. Just when she was going to say something, her dad comes in the office. ‘’Y/n let’s – Joe, what are you doing here?’’ he asks. ‘’Nothing coach, I, uh, I thought someone let one of the lights open, so I came to check’’ he stutters. ‘’It’s okay, dad, he and I have a class together, I know him’’ Y/n came to his rescue. ‘’Alright, go home, get some rest. Come on Y/n, I’ll bring you back to your dorm.’’ He spoke. She decided to stay on campus, she wanted her parents to have the house for themselves and she wanted the hole experience.

Weeks passed since they first met, they kept talking and they sat next to each other in class. But now, he couldn’t be fins, today was the first race and coach wanted them to be there early. Joe was at the library, when he was about to leave, a girl he went to school with stopped him. ‘’You’re Joe Rantz, I remember you, you had a huge crush on me in 4th grade’’ Joyce rambled. Joe wanted nothing more than leave, to avoid being late, but Joyce was holding him. Y/n was running in the halls to try and find the missing blonde, when she ran past the library, she finally found him, with Joyce. She entered the room, sweating from the running she just did. ‘’Finally, Joe!’’ she said, walking up to him. Joyce stared at her, judging her. ‘’Joe, we have to go, you’re almost late.’’ She panted. ‘’Hi, I’m Joyce! And this is Joe, but he’s nervous right now, so he’s not very chatty’’ she said. Y/n wanted to roll her eyes, but she managed to put a fake smile on her lips. ‘’Nice to meet you, and I know who he is. Come on’’ he was packing his stuff as Joyce walked away. ‘’By the way, did you ever lose that crush?’’ she teased as she left the room. Joe wanted to explain that she was just a friend, and an annoying fan. ‘’Y/n – ‘’ she cut him off. ‘’I don’t care, explain later, you have to go!’’ she rushed him.

He'd just won the race! He felt so happy! He’d work so hard to get there, and now he just won his first race. She felt so happy! Her dad’s team just won! They were gonna have a party to celebrate. She decided to leave to go and get ready, she had the perfect dress for the occasion. It was a baby blue long dress with small puffy short sleeves. It was simple, but really pretty, she let her long hair down and putted white heels on. 2 hours later, she stepped inside the reception room, with the loud music. She didn’t see Joe, but he saw her. The second she stepped in the room, he spotted her. Joyce was becoming a problem, not wanting to leave him. ‘’Joyce, you’re really great, but please I need space.’’ He said, trying not to sound mean. The second she left him, Joe almost ran to Y/n. She saw him walking towards her, Joyce was not with him, so she smiled. ‘’Hi!’’ he said. She had to lean in to reach his ear do they could hear the other. ‘’Hi, congratulations on the win!’’ she said. He had trouble hearing her. After they tried to yell in the other’s ear, the decided to go somewhere quiet. They went to her dorm room, she was on the first floor, the only room there. Being the Coach’s daughter had its privileges. When she shut the door, they were both standing up. ‘’Look, Y/n about earlier. – ‘’ he begun. ‘’Joe, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re an adult, you do what you want, with who you want, as long as it doesn’t affect the team, your okay’’ she said, hiding the pain in her voice. She didn’t want him to be with Joyce. She developed a crush on him over the past weeks. He did too, he thought she was amazing, and so smart. ‘’Y/n, I don’t care about Joyce. And I don’t have a crush on her, I have a crush on you!’’ he confessed, his confession wasn’t supposed to be heard. She blushed and smile. ‘’I, uh, I’m sorry I – ‘’ she cut him off by quickly kissing him. She kissed him before her brain starts to panic. When they broke the kiss, he was red, so was she. ‘’I have a crush on you too, Joe’’ she admitted. She saw that he was not believing what just happened, so she pulled him by the tie and kissed him again. ‘’You deserve a reward for your win today’’ she whispered.

He wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t the most experienced person on earth. When she said those words, he thought he was going to faint. ‘’I know your stiff, and we don’t want to make it worse, sit down’’ she said, pointing her bed. He didn’t know what she was going to do, but when she straddled his lap to kiss him, he knew that she was in charge. ‘’You’re okay with this?’’ she asked him. He nodded and kissed her again. ‘’You trust me?’’ he nodded again. She felt him get hard underneath her, so when she dropped to her knees, she took his pants with her. He never got sucked before, the guys on the team said it was amazing, he was about to find out. She spat on his dick, before taking him in her mouth. He was big, but she’d done it before, so she didn’t gag. She started to bob her head at a medium pace, not wanting to torture him, but not making him cum too fast. ‘’Holy shit’’ he moaned as his hand found her hair. He felt really good, he was so excited. He just won a race, and the girl he has a crush on, feels the same thing, and is currently sucking him off. He was in heaven. She felt him jerk his hips a little, after all, he didn’t do it for a long time. And he had roommates, it was hard to jerk off. She took him further down her throat, making him moan again. ‘’Y/n, oh my, this is a-a-amazing. Shit’’ his brain was starting to malfunction. She felt him twitch in her mouth, she moaned on his dick. The vibration from the sound she just made drove him crazy. ‘’ I’m gonna cum, shit Y/n, I’m gonna – ‘’ his sentence was cut short by his orgasm. His sperm went down her throat as she swallowed. He was feeling euphoric. She got up, wiping her mouth. She smiled at him, seeing how beautiful he was.

‘’Thank you, it was amazing.’’ He praised her. She blushed and looked at him while he laid down in her bed. She went to lay next to him. ‘’I’m really proud of you, Joe Rantz’’ she whispered. ‘’And I really like you, Y/n Ulbrickson’’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘’When you win in Berlin, would you let me wear the gold medal?’’ she asked him. ‘’Of course I will, so does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?’’ he asked. ‘’Do you want me to be your girlfriend?’’ she asked, joy in her voice. ‘’I would love for you to be my girlfriend’’ he replied. ‘’Then yes, I’m your girlfriend, Joe.’’

[floralcyanide]

Hii, how are you? I was wondering if I could order Joe Rantz's smut? with the prompt marathon session. Thank you so much!!

PS: I love your writing. 💘

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!

find this prompt and more, here!

Joe Rantz x Fem!Reader

prompt: marathon session (they just fucking keep going, babyyyy)

a/n: thank you!! I'm glad you enjoy my work (:

If there’s anything you love about your boyfriend Joe, it’s his strive to keep going and persevere despite whatever comes his way. So you waste no time saving to go to the Olympics in Berlin when Joe and his rowing team secure their spot there. You reach your monetary goal and go along with the boys, enjoying every moment. When the team wins the gold medal, everyone is extremely proud, especially you. And you want nothing more than to celebrate with Joe. You don’t expect what Joe has in mind for celebrating, though.

He is beyond hyper from the adrenaline of the win, riding it all day long until he can finally get a moment alone with you. Joe asks if he can stay in your hotel with you instead of the athlete quarters, and you agree, of course. You and Joe have had sex a few times here and there when you’re able to (when he isn’t busy training or practicing.) However, you aren’t expecting how the night is going to unfold with Joe’s sexual appetite. 

The first round is mind-blowing, and you cum quickly. You ask Joe for another round, and he obliges, still pent up with energy. He flips you over into a different position, taking you from behind this time. And God, you could do this all night. Joe is like a feral, unhinged animal with the way he’s snapping his hips forward against your ass as he pounds into you. He reaches his peak, filling you up with his hot seed. You’ve yet to finish, so Joe keeps going despite the overstimulation. The feeling of your wetness and his cum around his cock makes him turned on again, making it easier for him to fuck into you without restraint. You both orgasm together this time, and you’re nearly seeing stars with how powerful the waves of pleasure are. 

But you’re still not done.

When Joe pulls out of you, you immediately shove him onto the bed where you were once positioned and hover over him.

“Time for the Olympic gold medalist to get the ride of his life,” you smirk, running your hands along his chest as you sit on his thighs.

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” Joe runs a hand through his now slightly sweaty hair, a grin on his face.

You hum in response as you slowly sink down onto him, fully seating yourself and remaining still as Joe adjusts to the feeling of you pulsing around his sensitive length. He grips your hips harshly, hissing when you move just slightly.

“Can you take it?” you ask, making sure you aren’t hurting Joe or pushing his limits too much.

“Keep going, baby,” he slides his hands from your hips up to your breasts, palming your sensitive nipples, “I can take it.”

You test the waters by slowly raising yourself off of Joe before slamming back down in a quick motion, and Joe lets out a guttural moan at the feeling of his tip brushing your cervix. You gasp, deciding you want to feel it again, so you repeat the action. Now, you’re freely bouncing on Joe’s cock, not being subtle about how good it feels. Joe drinks in your moans, growing harder inside you. A few more pumps, and you’re shaking as your arousal slips down your thighs. The feeling of you tightening around him sends Joe over the edge, filling you with his cum again. You both decide this is the last round and clean up before settling into sleep. 

Joe may have won the best competition there is today, but he scored the absolute most when you came into his life.

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Stealing Kisses

(Actors from The Boys in the Boat)

Joe Rantz, Don Hume, Bobby Moch, George (Shorty) Hunt

tbitb masterlist

A collection of kissing scenes. Might write something for Chuck Day later, we’ll see, anyway, got carried away with Don, I would die for Bobby

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz:

Joe is a gentleman. He plans it’s out, wanting to take you on a decent date beforehand to set the mood and feel out just how much you like him. He doesn’t have money or a nice apartment or cooking skills for that matter. What he does have is his strength and his smarts.

So he takes you for a boat ride one sunny afternoon. He brings his guitar, opting for a little less country than the banjo, and paddles you out to a secluded spot. Despite his protest, you brought a basket full of treats and you talk as you share them under the hot sun.

His blond curls become waves of amber grain in the sunlight. After a while you fall into a comfortable silence which gives him the opportunity to pull out his guitar. Now he’s been planning this date for a little while so he picked some new songs to memorize. Sweet and romantic but not too lovey dovey. Though he doesn’t hide the fact that he loves country music.

As he strums his guitar he catches you intently staring at him. You look at him with so much affection that it makes him blush and stutter and he forget the words to his song.

“You’re cute, Joe.”

It makes him laugh so much he has to stop playing entirely. You tease him, enjoying his laughter.

After he recovers you both decide to venture out onto land. Wild flowers grow along the banks in great colorful bunches. Joe begins collection some, blue and purple and white and yellow, and he begins to weave them together.

It’s a special trick he learned while he lived alone, cutting and clearing trees for a living. During his breaks he taught himself to do this. The braid the delicate flower stems into bracelets and rings and crowns.

Joe makes the finest crown his has ever managed. He carefully lays the creation on your head and tucks away any loose strands of hair. ‘You’re gorgeous’ he wants to say. If he was a little more gutsy he would.

His hands trail down to cradle your cheeks. He’s not gutsy enough to tell you you’re pretty but for some reason he has the gall to lean down and kiss you.

His lips are a little chapped from rowing practices, the heavy breathing dropping his jaw and the wind biting his lips. But they’re gentle and sweet. Joe soaks up the private moment and rests his forehead on yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and sways back and forth with you. He starts singing again and you dance together in the afternoon sun.

Don Hume:

Let’s be honest here, you’re more likely to kiss him first. You simply make him too nervous to even find the coordination to plant his lips over yours.

After their first win, Don is dragged out to celebrate. Luckily his sweetheart of a few weeks now is already there. You’re happy to see Don out and about whether or not he likes it. Bobby flashes you a wink as he pushes Don into a chair next to you.

It’s too loud. You can’t hear a word the other says. In a blinding moment of courage, Don takes your hand and pulls you out of the hall. His calloused palm is sweaty. His fingers tremble between yours. You remember him first approaching you, Bobby pushing him forward and then abandoning him at your library table.

“Hey, you’re Don Hume right? From the rowing team, right?”

He nodded, swallowing hard.

“What can I do for you, Don?”

His tongue had gone dry. Where are his words? His mouth dropped open “I—” you smiled at him and it made everything worse.

“C’mon, Don!” You heard Bobby whisper shout, a collection of the rowing team has amassed behind a bookshelf, quietly cheering him on.

“Can-can I takeyouonadate?”

He panicked and cursed himself out, thinking he spoke too fast and you don’t catch what he said and now he’s going to have to ask all over again.

“I’d love to go on a date.” Your smile brightened and Don’s shoulders drooped in relief.

He still stutters asking you on dates now.

Don finds himself walking you across campus grounds and the pale light of the moon. “You did so good, Don, in your race.”

“Thanks.” He speaks so softly the whistle of the night breeze in the leaves is almost louder. He turns to you, catching your gaze first and then blushing and nervously glancing down at your lips.

He’s never kissed anyone before, but he thinks he wants to kiss you.

There’s a comfortable silence that fills the space between your faces. Don’s eyes keep flickering to your Cupid’s bow. To that perfect curve. He starts to say something but his words leave him again as he feels soft lips shutting his mouth.

His lips are rough, worn from the blustering winds. He smells faintly of sweat and the river water that sprays up from the churning oars.

Don can hardly think enough to kiss you back. He blinks, stunned and you lean in to kiss him again and again. He’s overwhelmed by the warmth of your lips and the velvet soft press of your tongue. His shaking hands clutch at your cheeks, trying to ensure that it doesn’t end.

“Don, baby—”

“Kiss me again, please.”

There’s a smile on your lips when you wrap your arms around him. “Only if you promise to dance with me.”

“Yes, yes, okay. Just…”

This time he kisses first.

Bobby Moch:

Bobby is a confident man. He maybe shorter than your average guy but his boldness makes up for it. But I also think you’d kiss him first.

You’re waiting for him to finish up practice, your routine being to go on a long walk and let Bobby blow off some steam before studying together and then going home. Bobby emerges from the shell house, clearly bothered, but he can’t help his smile when he sees you waiting on a bench with two warm cups of tea in your hand.

“Good evening, lovely, should we go to the library or the bridge?”

You hand him a cup and take his free hand. “I think… the library would be nice.”

“Me too.”

He squeezes your hand. He starts his rant and angrily blabbers on until you’re at the steps of the library. Somehow, between all his complaining, he’s managed to chug his whole cup of tea.

The library is fairly empty at this hour. Most students having given up on studying for the day and retired to either their dorms or gone off to work. Bobby drops his bag onto a secluded sofa and the two of you sit down for a nice, quiet study date.

While Bobby reads over his textbook chapter, you notice things about him. The wrinkle that forms on his forehead when he's focused. The tilt of his eyebrows. How his lips purse. You notice the tiny blemishes on his cheeks; they were once little nicks or pimples that he picked. You keep stealing glances of him. Absolutely fascinated by the way lamplight reflects off his skin or the curve of his jaw or the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows. He hadn't really bothered to straighten out his hair after his shower and it's dried wild, tickling his face.

Bobby catches your gaze and it's stunning, how light pools in his eyes. How his irises brighten. His gives you an adoring look and returns to pouring over his textbook.

Then there's his lips. They look so soft and they're so gently rounded they look hand carved. Occasionally he'll lick his lips and you get a flash of tongue and white teeth. At some point you decide to just go for it. You've been dreaming of kissing Bobby for some time now but he's been content to let you take things at your own pace.

You reach of his textbook, "Need something?" Bobby asks genuinely. His gaze is uncharacteristically kind. He's always yelling at the top of his lungs or bossing around or saying something snappy. That's just Bobby. So why does he look at you like this? Like he's watching the sun rise.

"Yes, actually." And then you deliver a kiss to his lips. Bobby is caught off guard and before he can really even kiss you back, you're pulling away. "Sorry--"

"Don't even think about it." Bobby quips, "Get back here." He cups the juncture of your jaw and throat to bring you in but you hide in his palm. "Finish what you started. C'mon. Don't you feel like trying it again? I'm ready."

When your lips touch again Bobby is gentle in making it last. He never presses too hard but be doesn't let you shy away again either. He kisses you until the taste of him has stained your tongue and the oxygen is gone from your lungs.

George "Shorty" Hunt:

Sly dog, this one is.

George is highly tactical(he likes to think so) and because he’s so brilliant he hatched a perfect plan to get you to kiss him. He wants to see how bold you can be.

He makes three plans, two of which fail. They go like this. The first time he tries it, you’re walking him to practice. His jacket is slung over his shoulder and he’s telling you about his engineering class. “You know there’s this term we use called osculate which is where the curve of on surface meets the curve over another and they share a common tangent.” You raise a brow. Shorty licks his lips, “It’s also formal code for kissing.”

“Don’t even—” you swat at him and push him towards the shell house. “Go practice and share a tangent with Day!”

“Hey now,” Shorty pouts and disappears into the shell house, defeated. That was attempt 1. The second attempt hardly goes better.

It’s the night after their first win and Shorty is dancing with you. His nerdy pick up lines proved to be a failure so he goes for building some good old fashion romance. He’d gotten you flowers and taken you out for dinner before he brought you here where the music is so loud it blocks out everyone else around you.

Now you’re slow dancing, cheeks pressed together, hands laced with one another. The first thing you notice is that he smells good. You have no idea if he’s wearing cologne or if it’s the soap he uses to wash his clothes but he smells divine. The second thing is how soft his hands are despite the wear and tear of the pad. The third is that he didn’t put any product in his hair. You’ve always loved to play with the dark curls and fluff it up. But sometimes he styles his curls and the products make his hair stiff. But his curls are free today which tells you he’s been thinking about you and all the things you do.

“Watcha smilin’ about?” Shorty asks, his eyes light up as he smiles back. He hopes you’re thinking about it. He hopes you’re wanting to kiss him.

You plant your hands on his chest, “Nothing, you just make me happy.” It’s quite possibly quite possibly the nicest compliment he’s ever received. And then you rise up on your toes a place a kiss on his cheek. It’s not what he expected but he’s as pleased as ever.

The third and actually successful attempt is on the train before he leaves for Poughkeepsie. You’d arrived late and missed him boarding. You force your way to the train and look through the window. George sees you and throws the window open. “I was afraid you weren’t coming!” He shouts of the chatter. He’d actually been heartbroken.

“Had trouble getting here!”

“Can I…” you don’t catch what he says.

“What!”

Shorty smiles and shakes his head. He turns and gestures for something. He opens the window as far as he can and you see Chuck and Johnny behind him. And then George is falling out of the window. First his shoulders and chest and then his hips and your almost scream but Chuck and Johnny are holding his thighs. He wedges one hand on the window sill to support himself and the other reaches for you.

He pulls you as close as he can and gives you a kiss goodbye. “I’ll come home with a gold medal!” Don’t you worry!” The people who notice give him a cheer and a laugh as he’s pulled back into the train. He blows you one last kiss and then the train starts rolling.

tbitb masterlist

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this piece please be sure to check out my masterlist and if you want to request something you are more than welcome to. Have a nice day.

- the author

[starrvsn]

౨ৎ ּ ׅ ۫ ✧ 。BOYS IN THE BOAT ˚₊ ꒰ TO BE LOVED .

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

𝟒𝟏𝟏. some of the fictional characters of the boys in the boat comforting you when you’re upset. (for anyone in need of some tlc)

INCLUDES ⠆joe rantz, don hume, bobby moch, george hunt and chuck day

BOBBY MOCH ⠆

ever since you’ve started dating it had become very easy for bobby to read you, you were like an open book to him. so when he met you after practice and your sweet melodic voice didn’t greet him the second you saw him, he knew something was wrong. bobby doesn’t hesitate to start comforting you, he didn’t even need to know what was wrong from him to make you feel better. he knew the last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset so he sticks to comforting you. he hugs you; soothingly rubbing your lower back as he holds you close, his presence alone calms you down. soon he asks what had happened but doesn’t force you to tell him, he doesn’t dare to. then he’s praising you with soft compliments as he pressed kisses on your face, hair or hands. he overall just wants you to feel happy and appreciated since you do so much for him.

DON HUME ⠆

don isn’t the best at comforting people, especially people of importance so seeing you sitting in front of the piano with tears in your eyes when you looked at him, he froze. a plethora of thoughts racing through his mind as he tried to figure out was wrong but most importantly what he could do to make you feel better. he takes cautious steps towards you and kneels when he gets to his desired spot that is as close to you as possible “you alright darling?” he asks rubbing your arms comfortingly, he doesn’t say much when he’s comforting you, he lets his actions speak for themselves. you nod wiping all your excess tears away, telling him how frustrated you are over this piece you were learning. don’s heart breaks a little seeing you so upset like that, he wanted to cheer you up in anyway he could so the first thing that came to mind was the piano so he’s quick to move his hands on the keys of the instrument, playing the only song he really knew. the washington fight song; as he plays and softly sings the words— a soft smile tugs on your face as you begin to sing along, resting your head against his arm as he plays.

JOE RANTZ ⠆

he reacts instinctively. as soon as he sees you enter his dorm with a solemn face he’s already on his feet comforting you. it was every evident in your relationship that joe just wanted you to always be happy and obviously it isn’t fool proof because sometimes things get to you. he tries his hardest to always put a smile on your face and that’s exactly what he tries to do to turn your frown upside down. he takes his time because the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you more, he asks whats upset you and from how you tell him is how he differs on how upset you are. if you hadn’t said anything at all you were far too upset but if not you weren’t to upset to respond to your boyfriend. so when you didn’t reply he immediately comforted you into a hug before bringing you to his bed so can cuddle, he lays atop you while he speaks softly about how strong and lovely you are while drawing soft patterns on your arm, later he tries to make you laugh and it always works to make your mood brighter. he praises you before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

GEORGE HUNT ⠆

the second he sits beside you in the library, he felt something was off. at first he couldn’t tell but there was a certain tension in the air and when george looks over at you it’s like he could see a cloud hanging over you, he wanted nothing more than to swat it away… but of course there wasn’t a cloud over your head but he now knew you were upset. he could especially tell from how aggressively you were turning the pages of your textbook. he knew better to bombard you so he kept his distance letting your mood soften a bit, but it doesn’t stop him from glancing ever so often trying to not look over so often. but ultimately you come to him when your ready and that is when he gives you his undivided attention and all the love and comfort he can give. physical affection comes easy to george so him comforting you has become a second nature to him, even if it leads to him speaking so sweetly to you to you. he bombards you with kisses, cuddles and words of encouragement and reassurance to make sure any negative thoughts you had go away and all you can think about is him, caring less that you’re in a public place.

CHUCK DAY ⠆

like bobby; chuck can read you very easily, especially emotionally. he can tell immediately that something is wrong when he goes to pick to you up from your last class of the day; assuming you’re upset about something that happened in class. chuck tries his absolute best to get your mind off it while at the same to reassuring you and praising you as you spend your day together. in a more quieter fashion he would take you on walks to the park so you could clear your head and even open up to your lover on what had made you so upset, it concerns chuck the most because you get super quiet when your upset. he misses when your talking his ear off about your day but he knows that it’ll subside eventually and he will try his absolute best to help you feel better.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Order➬𝑭𝒊𝒛𝒛𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒎𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑱𝒐𝒆 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒛

“Well look at you…”

𝑰𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑, 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏

.

.

☘︎︎.

It would be so cute when it was done. You just had to trust the process.

Sitting in the middle of Joe’s room covered in all kinds of glitter, patches, thread, and other crafty things. You were adding designs to a jacket you recently bought for him because you thought he’d look so good in it….after you gave it some razzle dazzle.

Now in your defense, it wasn’t gonna take long. It wasn’t supposed to. It was just sewing some cute patches on a cute jacket that you got your more than cute boyfriend. But…you’d never been particularly good at sewing or minding the time, so there’s that.

You can only imagine how you look as the door suddenly opens and Joe walks in, freezing as he looks at you. There’s a mess of supplies all around you and you…

You’re so cute, sitting on your knees in patterned stockings wearing one of those mini skirts you love so much, lovely hair pinned up away from your pretty face as your glossy lips move into a pout as you bat your lashes at him, shooing him with a manicured hand and he’s never been more smitten.

“Ugh! Joeee!! Now it won’t be a surprise! Go! Shoo! Off with you!” You yell, trying to be stern even as your cheeks heat under his love struck gaze.

“Well look at you…”

The soft tone of his low voice makes your heart skip a beat as you look down at your unfinished project. You like him too much to even stay frustrated with him.

“It’s for you…but it’s not done yet so you have to wait even though you wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t back so early”, you catch yourself rambling because he’s closer, kneeling down in front of you as he smiles, still looking at you like you were cloud 9 personified.

Honestly, to him, it doesn’t matter that you’re not finished because the fact that you were thinking of him enough to do something for him means more than you’ll ever know. You’re so sweet on him that it makes him melt as he bends down to kiss you tenderly.

“Thank you, you’re a doll. I love it, really.” You flush entirely, down to your toes as you giggle, soaking up his affection.

“Practice ended early so that’s why I’m back early and I’m glad I am. You look even prettier today”, he’s going to give you heart failure if he keeps sweet talking you like this, you whine.

“You’re trouble today and while I very much enjoy it, it’s also distracting so…” Joe laughs because usually it’s you flustering him, not the other way around.

“Are you kicking me out my room, doll?”

Suppressing a smile, you nod.

“Unfortunately, but not for long. You’ll just have to go play or something in the meantime.” The way he quirks his eyebrow as a slow smirk grows on his face makes you rush to correct yourself.

“Not like that!” He bursts into more laughter and you pull him into a kiss to shut him up.

You separate and he puts a hand up in surrender.

“Alright, I’m gone. Be back in 40?” You nod and he gets up to go.

“Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave!” The immediate shade of red on the tips on his ears has you struggling to compose yourself as you laugh, the door swinging shut behind him as his heart beats faster.

Already looking forward to 40 minutes from now.

(Y’all listen to birds of a feather I’m in love)

♡︎ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀ😌

[saturnville]

wear the gold, joe rantz

pairing: joe rantz (the boys in the boat) x black fem oc (cleotha jean)

content: joe wins the gold and promises that cleotha will get to wear it.

an: one thing I love is writing period fics, making my own world, and putting black women as the lead. mwah.

Cleotha Jean was an intelligent woman. She began reading at the age of three, writing short stories by seven, and conducted a college-level research presentation at the age of 13. Education was her one-way ticket to success and transformation of her family trajectory. She worked hard in school and made it a priority. Her efforts paid off, as she was granted a full scholarship to a nearby all-girls college for Black women. She was one step closer to becoming the award-winning historian and geographer she desired to be. 

Her desire for greatness never ceased, even on a college campus, where having fun and doing “college student things” was welcomed, especially with the neighboring all-boys college. Cleotha had no desire to partake in the weekend drunkenness or hookups. She found joy in researching Greek mythology and listening to the her boyfriend’s rowing match on the small radio at her desk. 

Cleotha Jean was dedicated to her studies, yes, but she made sure to make time for other aspects of her life to flourish. Including her love life. During her first year of college, she found herself becoming the apple of Joe Rantz’s baby blue eyes.

They crossed paths at the lake that the schools in the city often visited on the weekends. While sitting on her beach towel with her best friend, a soccer ball came flying across the air, but a strong pair of hands caught it just before it hit her. 

Cleotha squealed as her hands came up to block her face. Her book flew from her lap, the page lost in its spiral in the air. She grunted in irritation. Her fingers pushed her sunglasses on her forehead, her eyes scanning the vicinity for the culprit. 

“I’m sorry, miss. Are you okay?” asked a voice that was unfamiliar. It caused her ears to perk up in interest. She turned to the right to see a very handsome man crouched in front of her, soccer ball tucked beneath his arm. Her eyes scanned his face: dark eyebrows, ocean-blue eyes, straight nose, and full lips. His hair was platinum blonde and tussled from a day’s activities. 

“I’m fine, thank you. Nice save,” she managed to joke with a chuckle. The boy laughed lightly and shrugged. “I try my best. Your book.” He handed her the book that landed at her feet, his thumb between the pages. 

“Thank you.” 

“Reading the Odyssey for fun, huh?” he questioned. Cleotha glanced at her book, sandfilled and battered. It had been her favorite book since she’d read it during her freshman year of high school. She nodded and smiled. “Consider me a mythology enthusiast.” 

He nodded in interest. “Interesting. You’ve got to teach me a thing or two. I only know about Hercules.” That drew a giggle from her. He smiled softly. “Sure. I’m Cleotha.” She stuck her hand out, which was light as a feather in his calloused one. 

“Joe. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Cleotha smiled again. From her peripheral, she noticed his friends eyeing their interaction. She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. She peeled her book open again. “Looks like your friends are looking for you.” Joe turned back. 

“I’m kinda intrigued about this Odyssey you’ve got going on. You gonna be here for a while?” 

Cleotha nodded. 

Joe stood to his feet and dusted off his swim trunks. Cleotha’s eyes fell to his define figure before ascending to his eyes. “Gonna finish this game, then I’m coming back for you, sweetheart!” 

Cleotha smiled softly at the memory. Her notetaking was interrupted by the sudden commotion over the line. 

“And if I could say something to my girl Cleo back home if you’re listening…” Her ears perked up at the voice. “I’ll let you wear the gold medal when I get back.” 

She dropped her pen against her book and squealed. “Oh my goodness! He did it!” She scrambled around her room in excitement. All the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears had finally paid off. She couldn't have been more proud.

-

A few days later, Cleotha was preparing to go to bed when a knock on the door interrupted the soft melody playing in her room, causing her heart to skip a beat. She paused, a smile tugging at her lips as she recognized the familiar rhythm of Joe's knock. With eager anticipation, she hurried to the door and swung it open, revealing Joe standing there with a tender smile lighting up his face.

"Cleo," he breathed, his voice soft and filled with affection as he took in the sight of her.

"Hi, doll," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes shining with love as she reached out to take his hand, pulling him gently into her room.

Joe kicked his beaten sneakers off his feet and placed them next to the door. He slid his full backpack off his shoulders and tossed it in the corner. She assumed he wanted to stay with her. Cleotha couldn't help but admire the way Joe filled the space with his presence, his warmth wrapping around her like a familiar embrace. She closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the room as they stood face to face, the air buzzing with the electricity of their shared connection.

“Ooh, baby, I am so proud of you!” Cleotha squealed, jumping up and down. She flung herself in his arms, pulling a hearty chuckle from Joe’s lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tight. “Congratulations. I heard the race on the radio. It was a well-deserved win.”

“Oh,” Joe said, pulling away from her just slightly. He dug his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt, saying, "Surprise.” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he revealed a small box nestled in the palm of his hand.

Cleotha's breath caught in her throat as she watched him with bated breath, her heart racing with anticipation. With trembling hands, she reached out to take the box from him, her fingers brushing against his in a tender caress. “Is this what I think it is?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Open it and find out," Joe replied, his voice filled with a hint of excitement as he watched her with eager anticipation.

With trembling fingers, Cleotha carefully untied lifted the lid of the box, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of the delicate medal nestled inside. It was a simple in design, but it was beautiful. Heavy and rich. A physical manifestation of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put in to get to this point. The gold medal.

"Oh, my goodness," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion as she lifted the medal from the box, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's beautiful. I am so proud of you, really. This is amazing.”

Joe smiled softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached out to take the medal from her hands, his fingers brushing against her skin in a gentle caress as he adjusted it around her neck. “Wait, Joe…” He hummed in response, saying, “I told you I’d let you wear it, didn’t I?” She clamped her lips to limit any further protest. Cleotha’s fingers danced over it in wonder as her eyes gleamed with awe. Her boyfriend was a gold medalist. 

She met his eyes, which were low as he took in the picture of her dressed in his shirt and shorts with his prized possession around her neck. He smirked. A sight to behold.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice filled with love and gratitude as he moved to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "I couldn't have done it without you. Love you forever…”

Cleotha smiled, a warmth spreading across her face as she brushed a stray lock of hair from hisface, his touch as gentle as a whisper. "I love you, too.”