#spring boot 20

[nkogneatho]

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso

—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.

—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️

introduction to the universe:

Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.

“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.

The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.

“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.

“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.

“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.

“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.

“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.

“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.

“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.

“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.

“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.

“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.

“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.

“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his cock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.

“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.

“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.

“Lwove it.”

“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.

“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.

“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?

“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.

“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”

Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.

“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.

“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.

“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”

“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.

“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.

Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.

“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.

“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”

“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”

“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.

“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.

“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”

“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.

“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.

Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.

“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Then he had the audacity to—”

“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.

After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?

You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.

Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”

“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.

Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.

“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.

He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.

“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.

You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.

“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.

“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.

“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.

“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.

“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.

“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.

@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel thinks you deserve better.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral f!receiving, cockwarming, size kink, skinny dipping, angsty, kinda asshole/grumpy Joel, mention of alcohol

Celia's note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG. but i threw in that much request angst i hope yall enjoy!!!!! Also happy valentines day!!! peace n luv fr

Aint Right part 1 Ain't Right part 2

Recently, life has been great for you.

Winter was gone as fast as it came, and spring started to take root in Jackson. Your favorite season.

The months that passed since Christmas had been like a dream. You and Joel's relationship had been all unicorns and rainbows—well, to you, anyway.

Finally, you were starting to pry open the gates to Joel's thoughts. Becoming close with him meant so much to you, even when he would off-handedly share information about himself by accident, you'd immediately commit it to long-term memory.

He didn't like to talk about himself much, but when he did, you were all ears.

Joel, on the other hand, didn't have to try as hard with you.

There was a constant flow of words out of your mouth, especially around him. You couldn't help it, really. You talked when you were nervous, and you were always nervous around Joel—that never went away.

But all in all, you were overflowing with happiness.

Joel, however, was feeling a little differently.

Ever since this relationship with you started, he's had this subtle ache about it.

His insecurities of being an old man were eating at him, day by day. His conscious just couldn't stop pestering him with the idea that you deserved better.

He felt that by being intimate with you, as much as he liked it, was holding you back from living your life.

By allowing you to indulge in this relationship with him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was setting your life up for failure.

He was picturing some White Fang situation where you were some wild animal that was getting too close to him, and in order to prevent you from getting hurt by domestication, he'd have to throw rocks at you and tell you to 'go on an' git'. Even though he deeply cared about you.

These insecurites really came to the surface whenever you two were in bed together.

He was 56 years old, for crying out loud. He had two rounds in him max, anything more might give him a heart attack.

He'd clock the little disappointed pout you'd make when he couldn't go again, even when you tried to act otherwise. He was just in his head about the entire thing—which was so unlike him.

You were doin' things to him, thats for damn sure.

Joel couldn't deny the affect you had on him anymore. You were starting to become a top priority; he was unable to stop himself from putting you first.

How was it so easy for you to become to important in his life?

He pondered this thought while coming back from a supply run, riding in on horseback. The sound of hooves crunching twigs and rocks was an oddly theraputic sound, one that helped stop him from thinking so much.

Upon his return, Joel drops off his supplies and guides his horse back into its stable. He gives it a few loving pats before leaving, walking down the main road with the breeze in his hair.

His eyes scan the people crowding the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of his favorite face.

And he does.

Eventually, Joel spots you, helping an older lady up her porch steps. You’re smiling, eyes sparkling like everything in the world was all fine and dandy.

It never got easier seeing you wear cooler clothes in public.

Sure, he's seen your naked body plenty of times, but there was something about you in a tank top, jean shorts and cowboy boots that just did things to him.

His heart tugs in his chest as he watches you complete the kind act, skipping back down the steps once the lady waves you goodbye.

That’s when you see him, across the street, just staring at you.

Your face lights up like fireworks when you notice. It always did. But Joel never got tired of seeing it.

He watches you jog his way, nearly running straight into him but managing to stop yourself last second.

“Hey! How’d that run go?” You ask, beaming up at him and trying your hardest not to smack his lips with yours.

“Good.” He nods, clenching his jaw.

Jesus, you looked so good right now—Joel was having a very hard time focusing on what to say when you were distracting him with your bangin’ bod.

“Good.” You copy, finding a moment to assess him. He seemed tense, more tense than usual. Joel knows you’re about to ask him what’s wrong—and he can’t face that question right now.

So he speaks before he knows what he’s saying. “You should come out with me again, next time, I mean. Actually try n' help instead of.. flirt.”

He's disgusing his intense feelings for you with an insult, because of course he is.

You scoff at his diss, rolling your eyes. “You loved my flirtin’.” You copied his texan drawl to mock him, earning you a glare.

“Well, I’d love to. Is it a date?” You purr, stepping into his personal space, prompting Joel to make quick use of his self control.

If he could act on his impulse, he would have bent you over and fucked you right there on the sidewalk.

He clears his throat before nodding. “Sure. Tomorrow. It’s a date.” He bites out like it pains him, because in truth, he'd rather take you out to dinner or something than another stupid supply run.

You’re smiling again, swaying on your feet. You make a few glances around to make sure no one’s watching before popping up and kissing him on his cheek.

“Kay, see you then." You chirp ever so sweetly, walking away in your small jean shorts.

You were really tugging on his heart strings.

When tomorrow comes, you're sitting on your porch swing, waiting for Joel to come and get you.

You were excited—mainly because you two would be out of sight from prying eyes. You could act on all your impulses.

You didn't mind people figuring you two out, you're kind of sure they already had, but you felt that Joel did care, and you wanted to respect his boundaires. Even though he never made those clear.

But, you felt you were pushing it with that kiss on the cheek yesterday, and you didn't want him upset with you.

The sudden thought made you worry.

Maybe he was upset with you. He did glare at you yesterday.

You probably did something, your anxious mind tells you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts due to the sound of hooves clopping against the road. Looking up, you're met with the pleasure-inducing sight of Joel.

He's walking with a horse beside him, holding its lead with a trained hand.

He's wearing that faded gray shirt and those jeans that seem like they're hanging on by a thread. So casual.

But, then you take a closer look at his appearance. He...trimmed his beard and attempted to slick back his hair...?

...Was he trying to look nice for you?

"Did you get all pretty for me?" You ask with a giddy smile, skipping down your steps.

He grumbles something incoherent under his breath before rolling his eyes. Yet, you swear you can see the faintest bit of blush on his cheeks. "You ready to go?" He asks, gesturing to the horse.

He's trying to change the subject, but you need to let him know you appreciate his efforts.

"You look really good, Joel. I mean—you always look good, but today especially." You bring your hand up to feel his hair, smiling happily. He can tell you're being geniune, but he's never been good with compliments.

"Thanks, sweetheart—now get on the damn horse." He sounds exasperated, but theres a small smile on his lips.

He helps you up onto the back before climbing on himself. "Wrap yer arms 'round me. Don't fall off." He murmurs, steering the horse towards the gates.

You slide up so that your chest is pressed against his back, and outstretch your arms to wrap around him. Once you two successfully leave the town and no one is watching, that's when you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade.

It's cozy. It's intimate. It's Joel.

You could fall asleep against him like this.

He remains silent because he knows how peaceful you feel right now. He wants to let you enjoy the moment.

You're admiring the forest scenary, occasionally resting your eyes. You don't know where Joel is taking you—maybe he's heading straight towards the middle of nowhere to drop you off and leave. Getting rid of you probably would've been in his best interest.

You're smiling at the thought because you know yourself. Even if he did do that, you'd find a way back to him. Like a loyal dog.

"Wait," Your voice cracks through the silence. Joel stops the horse, turning his head back to look at you. "Is that a lake?" He turns his head to where you're looking, his eyes catching the blue water that you're so enamoured by.

"Don't know what else it would be."

You roll your eyes at his smartassary. "...Can we go?"

"To the lake?" He reiterates, a confused look on his face. "'N do what?"

You shrug your shoulders, feeling stupid for asking all the sudden.

Immediately, Joel notices how you shrink into yourself. He wants to punch himself in the dick because he's being an asshole.

To fix his mistake, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and steers the horse down to the body of water.

You're giddy again in no time, a soft but excited squeal escaping your throat.

He manages to find a small clearing within the brush; open tall grass, a fallen tree trunk perfect for sitting, and direct access to the lake.

"So pretty." You muse, simply in awe of the nature around you.

You didn't really leave town much—only when you had to. So, seeing stuff like this, really meant a lot to you.

Joel gets off the horse and immediately turns to help you down. His hands find themselves on your hips while yours latch onto his shoulders.

He lowers you effortlessly, his grasp lingering for longer than it needed to.

Your skin lights on fire at his touch, dirty thoughts instantly flooding your brain.

The lake, the seculsion, the tension...there was really only one thing you were thinking about right now.

"Hey, what if we just...didn't go on that supply run?" You muse, avoiding eye contact for a moment because no matter how close you've gotten with Joel, he still made you nervous.

He shoots you a questioning look, which gives you the idea to show rather than tell.

You step closer to the waters edge, beginning to take off your boots. Joel's watching with that stern look, but it quickly fades, replaced with lust when you start shedding off your clothes.

First your shorts, then your tank top.

"Let's go swimming!" You say with that happy smile, the one that makes his heart beat soar.

He can't stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your stark naked body.

Not only did Joel enjoy your pert breasts and supple ass, he was also equally obsessed with the not overtly sexual things about you. Your hair, shoulders, collar bone, forearms, the curve of your spine—everything, he was consumed by it all.

He realizes that he needs to answer you, but all that comes out is a scoff.

"Hey—no. We don't know what the hells in that water." He huffs as his boner peaks through his jeans.

"Fine, guess I'll swim alone then." You say nonchalantly, knowing if you went in, odds were, Joel wouldn't be far behind.

And you were right.

As soon as you enter the cool water, you see Joel starting to undress in the corner of your eye.

You pretened you're not watching, and eventually he joins you in the lake.

You've waded out rather far into the water, waiting to speak until you know Joel is close.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" You ask, letting your body float above the surface, limbs outstretched while you stared up at the fluffy clouds.

If you could do this forever, you would. Naked as the day you were born, floating in warm spring water with Joel's company—maybe this was heaven.

Sure felt like it.

You almost don't even notice Joel's palm run up your shin and thigh, only when his hand lightly drifts over your lower stomach, is when you become all too aware.

Yet, he doesn't venture south.

Instead, he makes a path further up your stomach, then your ribs, then the valley of your breasts, until he rests his hand over your heart.

You stare at his face as he completes this insane act, completely baffled at the fact that he seemed so entranced and calm, while you were trying not to freak out.

He notices your stare, and finally meets your eye contact. No words leave his mouth—he can't seem to find any that feel right.

But he's thinking about how beautiful you are. How sweet and doting, how smart and witty. Everything about you encompassed into a few short words just didn't feel worthy enough.

But you can't just leave things the way they are.

Slowly, you situate yourself around him, attaching to his body like a koala bear. Your arms slide around his shoulders while your legs wrap around his waist.

Skin to skin, face to face, so fucking intense.

Joel's strong arms find themselves around your torso, keeping you close to him.

"Yeah, it does feel nice." Joel replies, his voice soft, his eyes even softer.

You smile, big and geniune, a feeling of bliss taking over you. "Isn't this so much better than some silly supply run?"

Joel rolls his eyes, which spurs you on even more.

"Come on, admit it; you'd rather be out here with me, than some stinky convience store looting pills." You tighten your legs a little around his torso, feeling your cunt become flush with his bare stomach.

You feel a surge of pride when his breath hitches and his erect cock prods at your ass.

But it doesn't take long for his expression to fall back into its natural scowl.

"M'not admitin' shit." He murmurs, bringing a hand up to move your wet hair over your shoulder and onto your back. It's an absentminded motion, one that Joel isn't really thinking about doing.

He just felt the urge to touch you.

You giggle at him, dropping your forehead to his shoulder to laugh.

Joel huffs, trying to stop smirking because your giggle is contagious. "Quit." Is all he says, shaking his head. "Can't believe you got me out 'ere doin' this shit." He grumbles, adjusting his hold on you slightly.

"What 'shit'?" You mimick him and his texan drawl, earning you a stern glare.

"Naked in a lake like m'some fuckin' teenager." He speaks with an unamused expression, before his eyes land back onto you and his gaze softens. "What're you doin' to me, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question, but he says it like he's truly desperate for an answer.

You're not sure how to respond. His eye contact is making your brain all foggy.

It's silent.

You can only hear the rustling water, your breathing, and the general nature sounds in the distance.

Joel knows he confused you with his words, so he takes a moment to look away.

"Alright," He huffs out eventually. "Time to go."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest because he's already walking back to the shore, his arm remaining secured tightly around your back, basically carrying you.

You're not ready to leave, but you know Joel is, so you just opt for a dejected sigh.

He lets you back down on your feet when you're both on the grass, lingering his hand on the small of your back when he picks up your clothes. He uncrinckles your shirt before opening it up so you could easily put it on.

"This is becoming a habit of yours." You murmur softly, putting on the tank top and cringing at the way it sticks to your wet skin.

"Mm?" Joel doesn't know what you're referring to. He's never realized his pattern of clothing you. It was a simple act, but one you found endearing.

"Nothin'." You chirp, sliding on your shorts and boots.

Joel looks at you assessingly while buttoning his jeans back up, sucking in his stomach to zip them.

You're looking right back at him, admiring the way his wet hair looks, how the grays peak out in the most perfect way.

In a nervous manner, you shift on your feet, sliding your hands down into your jean pockets. "You sure you don't wanna...fool around?" You muse, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Joel smirks down at the ground as he continues to button up his shirt, shaking his head.

"You're too late kid, should've asked when we were naked." He's teasing, walking back over to the horse and gesturing for you to come.

You groan out, dragging your feet as you walk over to him and the horse. You were being dramatic, and Joel see's right through it.

"Quit whinin'. C'mon," He mutters, grabbing you by the hips to hoist you back onto the saddle.

"You're no fun, old man." You mumble, which freezes Joel in his tracks.

He doesn't know why, but that one off-handed comment ignites a blazing string of destructive thoughts.

As if he wasn't already insecure enough about being old and no fun.

His brain is jump-starting the self-depricating train of thought he had grown accustomed to, only this time, it had more fuel because you unknowingly confirmed it.

Of course, that isn't what you meant at all. It was just a teasing little comment, one you didn't think twice about. You weren't actually upset—at all.

Nevertheless, Joel's already in deep.

Slowly, he swings himself behind you onto the horse, grabbing the reins and starting forward.

You're quick to notice his demeanor, but choosing to keep your mouth shut.

The entire ride back is silent.

It was just like the ride there, only with a more suffocating air.

You have an inkling, but you have no idea the extent of his turmoil behind you.

Eventually, you two make it back to the stables. Joel helps you down from the horse, moving like a robot with no facial expression.

He's got that look in his eye that worries you. Every atom in your body wants to ask him what's wrong, but you also don't want to pry.

However, Joel would never open up to you unprompted. So, you at least try.

Your hand drifts upwards to his face, smoothing some of his hair down by his ear. "Is everything okay?" You finally ask, your voice purposefully soft and light so you don't startle him like he was some wild animal.

He inhales through his nose and clenches his jaw.

Oh.

Something was really wrong.

Your gaze goes from slightly weary to concerned in a flash, nervously biting down on your lower lip. "Is there anything I can do to help?" You ask, very evidently willing to do whatever he needed.

Joel had never been good with emotional timing. At the end of the day, he was still a man.

“We’ve gotta stop this.” He blurts.

You’re still for a moment, confused with his abrupt and vague words. You wait patiently for an elaboration.

Eventually, one comes, to Joel’s own dismay.

“We can’t see each other anymore—not like this.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

And then another.

You’re frozen with dread.

It’s like your body has forgotten all functions as you sit there and stare at him.

Surprisingly, the only thing you’re able to think of in this life changing moment, is the Christmas party at Maria and Tommy’s.

You’re thinking about how Joel fucked you in the guest bedroom, and how he said he didn’t want you having sex with anyone else.

You remember how happy you felt—like you two were exclusive or something.

How stupid were you?

With a quick intake of air, you swallow and look away.

“Did I do something wrong?” You croak, your voice akin to a wilting flower.

Joel is wracked with guilt the moment he hears you. But his mind is forcing him to do this.

“No—no. You haven’t done anythin’ wrong. This is all me, I fucked up and let this go on for too long.”

His answer provides no relief.

“But, I thought we—I thought you liked me?” You’re stumbling over your words because you’re so distraught, trying to blink away your persistent tears.

Shit.

Joel can hardly look at you. He would crumble and die if he did—the sadness in your expression is like several stabs to the gut.

Truth is, he did like you.

Thats why he wants to end things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can manage, head hanging down to look at the dirt.

You’re not looking at him either, instead opting to blankly stare at one of the horses in the stable.

“So,” You start, your voice cracking because you’ve started crying at this point. “You don’t wanna hook up, does that mean we can still hang out?”

Joel takes a big deep breath before answering.

"It would be best if we didn't see each other at all." Finally, he makes eye contact with you, and immediately regrets it.

You look like you've just been shot, for christsake—might as well have.

It was like he just tore your heart out, threw it to the ground, curb-stomped it, and kicked it down a gutter.

"Okay," you murmur, nodding slowly, trying to seem some-what chill about things. Inside, however, it was like World War III. "Uhm, I'm just gonna go home." Your voice is a croak, and Joel watches with the utmost remorse as you walk away.

It feels like shock.

Was this a break up? Were you even together in the first place? Why didn't he want to see you at all? Questions, questions, and more questions rattle in your brain as you shuffle away, hands shaking and eyes pouring.

You look down at the ring Joel gifted you on your finger, debting whether you should take it off or not.

Joel feels awful.

And it's not like the awful he felt the very first time he regected you—this time it's far more painful. It's a deeper wound, an uglier, gross, puss-infested cut that keeps getting worse the farther you walk away.

He thought he'd feel some relief.

He thought that after ending things, he would be rid of that nagging voice in his head.

But no, it remained.

Only now, it barked thoughts of wrong-doing.

'Why would you do that? Things were going great, you've fucked everything. You just broke her heart—’ and it goes on and on and on.

For a moment, the panic he feels registers in his mind as a heart attack. Thats what it felt like, anyway.

He has to brace himself against one of the wood beams in the barn, aggressively rubbing his chest to try and get his heart rate normal. Joel loses his breath in the process, not realizing that he's having a panic attack.

Whatever happens next, you don't see.

You never looked back after you walked away. *** "I don't know why you're all caught up about this, Joel." Tommy admits, a disappointed expression on his face.

Joel glares at his younger brother from the bar top, clearly disgruntled by Tommy's inability to understand his side of the situation.

It had been exactly 17 hours since Joel cut things off with you. He'd been drinking for at least 10 of those hours.

Somewhat drunkenly, he had told Tommy a very short and curt version of what happened.

But he got the picture. Tommy sighs, hanging his head for a minute before bringing it back up to speak again. "All m'sayin' is, it's the end of the damn world, Joel. Her 'future' ain’t graunteed; she'll be lucky if she makes it past 30 with the way things are. She's been 'round long enough to know that herself, n'for some fuckin' reason, she wants you—"

"She don't know what the hell she wants."

"See—that's where you're wrong, Joel." Tommy slams the whiskey glass that he was cleaning down on the bar, fed up and frustrated. "I've known 'er longer than you. She's a smart girl n'you're sellin' her short. Wake the hell up." He bites out before walking away, clearly finished with the conversation.

He had been watching and listening to Joel mop and groan about it all day and night—he had enough.

Other than the anger from being talked to in that manner welling inside of Joel, there was also a moment of clarity.

As much as it killed him to admit, Tommy was right.

He was selling you short.

The world is too ugly and fucked up for him not to act like everyday might be his last. He would be stupid to not just settle down and be happy with you for however long he had left.

Shit.

All alone in Tipsy Bison, Joel was slowly beginning to realize how majorly he screwed up.

He ruined things because he was too damn scared.

He didn't think there was a worse feeling than this—dealing with this huge fucking mistkae.

He wasn't sure if he would be able to come back from how things ended.

That look that you had in your eyes...Fuck. Joel didn't think he even deserved a second chance.

But goddammit if he didn't try.

After throwing the rest of his whiskey back, Joel got up from the barstool and hurriedly walked out, slamming the doors behind him.

He marches all the way to your place, ignoring whoever tried to talk to him on the way.

He had to do this. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

Finally, he makes it to your quaint little home, haulting in front of it. There is some imaginary force stopping him, something pulling him back.

It's that nagging voice in his head again, the one that caused this whole mess in the first place.

But this time, he ignores it, and trudges up your porch steps.

Joel knocks rather forcefully, his jaw clenching when you don't answer within seconds.

He bangs on the door again with his fist, hard, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

When you still don't answer, he enters anyway with your spare key (he always kept it on him), calling out your name as soon as he steps inside.

You hear him from your bed upstairs, though you honestly think you're hallucinating. You've been crying for hours, the only sound in your ears were your sniffles and sobs.

His heavy footsteps seem to get louder and louder, and when he calls out your name outside you're door, that's when you realize you weren't hallucinating at all.

You sit up just as Joel opens your door, your eyes wide with shock and tears.

He takes a couple steps inside before he sees how utterly devastated you looked. The sight of you renders him immoveable.

He feels…like the biggest asshole-asshat-douchebag-fuckwad-dickhead thats ever walked the planet.

“Why…are you here?” Your broken voice asks, trying your best to hold back tears.

Even after all he did, you still spoke so softly, all your respect for him still there.

He had talked himself up the entire walk over, but all his words were dying on his tongue.

He was beginning to think that there was nothing he could say that would make what he did right.

“Babygirl I—”

He sees you psychically flinch at his voice, and it makes his heart break all over again.

His feet carry him to the edge of your bed, hands coming out to hold your face.

You’re not sure how to process his touch, not sure how to process any of what’s happening, but you’re trying your best.

“I was wrong,” his thumb is wiping off the tear stains on your cheeks, a forced gentleness to his touch. “So fuckin’ wrong, babygirl. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Upon hearing his words, you can’t stop the floodgate of your tears. You start bawling, your shoulders shaking with each sob.

“I was so scared.” You cry, bringing your hands up to latch onto him. You wanted to explain more, explain why you were scared—because having Joel and then suddenly not having him, was like ripping your heart out.

He can’t scoop you up in his arms fast enough.

He gets in the bed with you, lifting you onto his lap while he cradles your head to his chest, kissing the top of your scalp.

"M'not lettin' you go. I promise." He husks, his grip on you strong.

And Joel kept this promise.

He held you the entire night, ensuring that you were secure and warm.

In the morning, you immediately asked what changed his mind.

"I was frustrated." He starts, exhaustion etched into his face. "I couldn't understand why you wanted me. Felt I was keeping you from some great life—a young husband n' some white picket fence. But..life here is probably as good as it's gonna get. And this," He looks to the both of you, alluding to the relationship you shared. "Is really fuckin' good."

Your heart is crumbling at his confession.

Discovering that he spent so much time insecure about things, both infuriated and saddened you.

When you were about to respond and explain away his worries, he speaks again.

"M'not lettin' you go. What I did was a mistake. M'sorry."

You're crying again, sniffling softly against him.

"You should've just fuckin' talked to me," You whimper, burying your face into his neck. "I could've—”

"Ain't nothin' you could'a done. You never did anythin' wrong." Joel reassures, pulling you from his shoulder so he can look at your face. "You gon' forgive me?"

"Obviously," you mumble, looking at him with a fake frustrated expression. "I meant it when I said I've always been yours."

And just like that, things were resolved.

You brought your hand down to grip his flannel, sighing into his chest. Joel also sighed in relief, realizing that you weren't going anywhere.

To raise the spirits in the room, you crane your neck up to look up at him, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"M'still mad at you. How are you gonna make it up to me?" Initally, you weren't really insinuading anything sexual—you were thinking he could take you for dinner or ice cream or something.

But Joel has something different in mind.

He gently grabs your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you how he wanted. His tongue is warm in your mouth, his mustache prickly against your face.

When he breaks away, you're out of breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I got an idea." Joel mumbles, carressing your jawline with his thumb.

Slowly, he sits up only to position himself between your thighs. With his calloused hands, he slides his palm up the planes of your legs until he reaches your pants.

You shiver when he dips his fingers under your waist band, pulling them down agonizingly slowly.

"This okay?" He asks in a gentle tone, one that makes your stomach do flips.

"Yes," You say immediately and breathlessly. "Very okay."

The corners of his mouth turn up to resemble a smirk, before his gaze returns back to the area between your legs. He runs his fingers down your clothed slit, feeling the way your wetness coated the stringy fabric.

You let out a soft gasp, slightly bucking your hips, hungry for more of his touch.

He plays there for a while before finally taking your underwear off, setting it somewhere on the bed.

Joel inhales through his nose when he sees your glistening cunt, trying to not cum in his pants at just the sight. He doesn't stop his impulse to pull your folds apart, running his thumb along your lips.

He's being so slow and gentle—it’s making your heart rate each dangerous levels.

His thumb then ventures up to lovingly rub your clit, his eyes scanning your face to watching your reaction.

Your legs are shaking as you kept them apart for Joel, your hands fisting the sheets as you cope with the sensations he's allowing you.

Your chest is heaving up and down and your eyes are glazed over with a hazy fog—one that Joel loves to see.

Then, out of nowhere, Joel lowers his head and connects his lips to your clit.

The act makes you jolt, mostly because you weren't expecting it.

His tongue laps at you, slowly at first, but then something shifts in Joel.

It's like the hunger for your cunt overwhelms him, and his grip on your thighs tighten. Within seconds, he's devouring you like a man starved, licking long strips up your cunt before focusing on sucking your clit.

You can't stop the moans and mewls slipping past your lips, and you don't really want to. You want Joel to know how good he's making you feel.

"OhhhfuckJoel," You whine, shooting your hands down to grab his salt and pepper hair. He focuses solely on your bundle of nerves with his tongue, using his fingers to give your desperately empty hole some attention.

When he slides two fingers inside, you effectively fall apart.

Tear prick in the lining of your eyes, your thighs clamp around his head as you cry out his name.

The fact that he's never eaten you out before and he's been this good at it the entire time, felt criminal. You honestly might've been more offended that he waited so long to reveal this talent than when he tried to end things.

"Dontstopdontstopdontstop," You sob, feeling yourself reach that climax you craved.

You come with a loud moan, and Joel lets you ride it out on his tongue and fingers.

When your body goes limp, thats when Joel lets up. He brings his head out from your legs and slips his digits out of your spasming hole.

You mewl at the feeling, looking at him with teary eyes.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" You asks, voice quiet and cracked.

"M'fifty-six years old—been around the block, babygirl." He's face is glistening with your juices, and his mouth is wearing that lopsided smile of his. It makes you wanna smile back.

"...Damn. So I'm not the first, huh?" You huff, not upset in the slightest, just wanting to tease him a little.

He chuckles and unzips his pants, letting his cock slap against his stomach. "No sweetheart, you ain't the first." He rasps, effortlessly manhandling you to straddle his lap. "But you are gon be my last."

His hands caress the plush surface of your hips, kneading them like dough while his eyes scan your face.

You're blushing so hard, your face probably looks like a spanked ass.

He really did have a knack for leaving you breathless with those one-liners of his.

You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, looking back down into his big brown eyes. All you can do is stare, because your brain is too focused on how hard your heart is beating to come up with a response.

"What? Now you ain't got nothin' to say?" He husks, his massive palm venturing down to your grab and squeeze your ass. Your back straightens and your lips part like you want to say something—but you're not quite sure what. "C'mon, use those pretty lips."

An idea pops into your brain.

"I'd rather use these lips," You whisper close to his mouth as you raise your hips up to hover over his member, slowly dipping his tip inside your warm hole.

"Fuck," Joel grunts, exhaling through his nose.

You grin at his reaction, lowering yourself down further with bated breath. You watch as his head lolls back and his grip tightens on your waist.

"What? Now you have nothing to say?" You mock, even though you're equally as breathless as he is.

He flashes you a glare before sliding a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand doesn't let you break away from his lips, and you don't plan to.

His tongue establishes dominance in your mouth, which you eagerly let happen. It's passionate, deep, bordering on punishing—sometime during, he manages to rip your top off, leaving you completely nude. But sooner or later, you both decide breathing might be a good idea.

You break away, chests heaving, mouths panting.

Eventually, you sink all the way down on him, giggling deliriously when you make eye contact again. You decide to forget your fake little fued, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Have I ever told you how big your dick is?" You mewl, squirming your hips around a bit but not lifting them up and down. It has Joel reeling.

His hands are holding you so tight, you're sure that it'll leave a bruise. "No," Joel huffs out rather distractedly, his eyes laser-focused on the way your cunt is gushing all over his lap. But you swear you can see the faintest blush on his tan skin.

"Well—your dick is real big." You whisper nearly inaudibly, making Joel snap his gaze back to your face. A lazy smile curls at your lips before you begin dragging you tight cunt up and down on his violently erect cock.

Joel shakes his head in disbelief, as he often does, but is unable to answer becase the feeling of being inside you is rendering him speechless. His hand absent-mindedly dips down to rub your clit—the act has you doubling over onto his shoulder, starting to bounce on him like your life depended on it.

"OhJoel, Iloveitsomuch," You blabble into his ear, noticing how he had taken the reigns at this point. He was manually lifting your hips, bringing them down with intense vigor.

He was stretching you out so good and his tip was so fucking deep—you were having a hard time staying conscious and not going brain dead.

It appears Joel's in the same boat too. "Fuck—you're killin' me." He grunts, bucking his hips up to meet you.

You giggle airily before immediately getting your karma—his dick paired with the position and the way his face looked—your cunt clenches down on him and you cum hard.

Your body jolts as you grab onto him, not expecting him to keep fucking you. But his grip on your hips doesn't falter, and Joel continues to bounce you up and down.

The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt. Just letting him manhandle your body and do what he wanted was a surprising relief—even if you did just come.

You're reduced to whimpers and moans as you slump into his chest, letting him ground you and fuck your abused cunt.

Finally, slams you down one final time, unloading deep into your warmth. His groans sound like music to yours hears, especially because you know it's you that's making him feel so good.

He's panting in your ear, slowly starting to move his hands up to wrap around your torso.

He's hugging you before you can register it; his big arms securing you tightly to his chest while you both tried to catch your breaths.

Seconds pass...which turn into minutes, and you're wondering if Joel ever plans on letting you go.

He's made no efforts to remove his dick from inside you—it's soft now, but still buried deep nonetheless.

Your pussy will occasionally flutter around him, which'll earn a soft sigh from his lips.

You place a soft kiss on his temple before straightening your back to look at his face. "You tryin' to make sure your seed takes or something'?" You murmur, that teasing lilt in your voice that Joel is all too familiar with.

"Somethin' like that." He mutters into your chest, pulling you down with him to lay on the bed. "Want me to pull out?" He asks after a moment, scanning your face for any traces of displeasure.

You nestle into his chest, hooking your leg over his waist to lodge him deeper inside. "Never."

You and Joel fuck all day, all night and even into the morning. With, of course, breaks in between so Joel can recharge his stamina.

It happens multiple times in your bed, in the shower, on the couch, in the hallway, and even in the kitchen come morning.

Joel was making coffee while you were traipsing around with just his flannel on—humming along to some made-up song. It was like you two were an old married couple; him hovering over the moka pot and you scowering the fridge for some breakfast.

"Blueberry pancakes orrrr...." Joel watches as your head is stuck in the fridge, trying to find ingredients for meals. "Blueberry pancakes."

He snorts. "Surprise me." He huffs sarcastically, knowing he'd be eating a plate of blueberry pancakes.

You grinned and started making the batch, feeling Joel's eyes all over you because of the way his flannel was slipping off your shoulder because it was far too big on you.

His stare was turning you on—so you just bent yourself over the cool surface of the countertop and Joel did the rest.

Eventually, your safari of fun had to stop sometime during lunch. You both had succesfully cleaned yourselves and had started dressing for the day.

"I just told Maria I'd help set up." You murmur distractedly, tying your hair up in the bathroom mirror. Maria was holding a little town party in one of the recreational centers, and asked you, as well as some others to help her with the decorations.

There's a pause before Joel steps into the tiny bathroom, situating himself behind you and sliding his large hand over your stomach. He places a soft kiss to your head before dropping his hands to softly squeeze your hips.

"I'll walk you there."

A beat.

"You will?" He nods in confirmation, which has you turning around to look at him. You smile and tilt your head playfully. "You gonna walk me to first period too?"

Joel immediately rolls his eyes and scoffs, though you swear you can see him smirk.

"Smartass." He huffs out, grabbing your forearms to move you out of the way.

"Kidding." You chime, leaning on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. You weren't sure why you were so surprised by his offer, but you could tell it was a sign of something.

Maybe he wasn't stressed about people finding out about you two anymore. He never said that he was—but you could tell.

And it wasn't like he was embarrassed of you or anything—he's just always been a private person. It wasn't anyone's business who he was falling asleep next to every night.

But you—he'd be willing to change that for you.

When you both are ready, you exit your house, locking the door behind you. You look up to see your neighbor watching as you and Joel descend your porch steps.

You never liked her—gossipy woman who was always sticking her nose in places it didn't belong.

Quickly, your gaze snaps to his face, wanting to see if he was okay or anxious or whatever it may be.

But Joel's just looking right back down at you. "Lead the way, pretty lady." He murmurs lowly, his jaw clenched but his eyes soft.

You smile, and fall into step with him as you both walk down the sidewalk. The birds are chirping, the breeze feels amazing, and Joel is cracking smiles at your jokes.

Life felt good again.

Suddenly, Tommy appears out of nowhere, as he often does, blocking you and Joel's path.

You freeze, trying to keep a neutral face. You still weren't sure how to act around people with Joel, so you were just planning to play if off like you guys were just two buddies walking or whatever.

"Hey," Tommy greets, looking at you and then Joel, his eyebrows pinched together like he was confused at seeing the two of you in the same vicinity.

Oh. He probably knew what happened, or bits and pieces of it.

For some reason, you feel anxious that Joel might be feeling anxious, so you look down at your feet and nervously fidget with your hands.

"What're you two doin'?" Tommy asks, a detective look in his eyes as he shifted on his feet.

Joel clears his throat before looking down and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers with his calloused grip. He can't help but glare at Tommy with a stern face, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

Your breath catches.

Tommy's eyes venture down to your joined hands, then you, then Joel.

After a beat, a sharp and knowing grin spreads across his face.

"Well I'll be damned." THE END.

[edenspoem]

𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥!𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞: 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬.

note: every gayass fucker i know has been going thru country!ellie ovulation rn—including me—so i thought i would create somethin' for the grand potluck. encouraging others to share as well (please). mdni. sexual themes. discord server.

nah, it's for certain not credible to claim that all of her clothing choices are indecent, or in other words—exhilarating; when you step into the boots of swooning-eyed women versus their cross-bearing mothers, the perspective tips like stones on a scale. droves would claim that it's plain distractin'. but, it's also for certain that it's gotten you into bushels of trouble! you aren't gettin' paid to ogle up the sheriff's daughter; hold your horses.

chances are, some faith would do you good—your mother said once. nothing is blasphemous in her eyes, but the toll a wild-hearted gal can take on responsibleness and practicalness is a dangerous one. from the top of her dotted sternum, which is prideful and free in an open button-up, to the pulsing sight of her belt buckle, dangerous things are written. and, with inhibitions loosened—mind you, there were evenings that led your fingers down both. in sadie-lou's parlor (the saloon you often bump into her at, coincidence or not), intoxicated to the length you both begin to swell specters of odd personalities, a dance-off across the bar gets you to whip out a couple crisp bills.

you watched—teeth pinching your lips—at intimate positions with her bootcut calves, groping and lulling her to get down low. “c'mon, williams, 'wanna give you somethin' worth your time!” you hollered, too sucked in the moment to mind the other bar-goers, and convinced her with soft fingers to kneel. she smiled, rolled her tongue over her lips, and said, “thought you said gettin' drunk wasn't worth it—these dance moves change your mind, baby?” before her teeth bit her own, interested in figuring out what exactly she felt pushing past her leather belt—it'd been none other than you: stashing a crumpled 20 in that faithfully-tucked crevice. her smile grown was worth a couple pennies more. “huh, guess it did.”

and, about that more pretentious, more offensive opening under her stupid grin, it had been dealt with on some occasions. once, in particular, cost you a room at the time-old inn. “fuck, that's it—ah, that's fuckin' it, sweetheart. goddamn, you're so good to me.” a rough junction ruts against you; ellie felt that she was entitled to gettin' herself off—if you were helpin' her along; pursed mouth around her nipple. one long roll of her hips elicited a long, grated whimper out of her, and everything about that southern song made your clit thump. pressed tits in your face and sibilant sounds through mouths after each stare caught while you—do that thing that fucks with her head: now that is a definite danger. real dangerous, if you continue and find her belt undone before you can do it yourself. “thought i'd get it outta 'ur trail,” she mutters, sun-tanned thumb pushing her panties just low enough that auburn hairs spring up behind it. wetness glistens in dripping lines. “hope you don't mind.. helpin' a little more?”

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ the questioning started when Ellie started acting odd and Joel started seeking therapy, making you wonder if you really were living the perfect domestic life you always wanted.

warnings_ age gap (late 20s/joel’s age in s2), angst, fluff, reader is trying to be the glue and fails, (reader isn’t physically described in this story), fallacy references, slight canon divergence, implied sex, anxiety, overthinking, no proofreading

Notes_here we go fallacy part two (highly recommended to read part one first)

「 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫: 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 」 (next parts here)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 Pedro

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

When you love hard enough, any pain is worth it at the end of the row. Because you know someone is waiting for you. Their heart is beating and they will hold you tightly.

There were still some nights where you would wake up, gasping for air.

But it wasn’t 2023 or before anymore.

The days of sorrow, uncertainty, sickness and heartaches were over.

You are getting closer to your thirties, far enough to still be considered a young woman. But it didn’t matter, your mind felt old as hell.

Even older than your husband’s.

The man who saved your life when you were at your lowest. Who made you dream of having a family again after having to kill yours. He never meant to, but once hurt you a lot. Until the pain vanished and life continued.

Joel Miller was your husband, your partner, your other half and lover.

Four years and a half of marriage and everybody in town got used to the old man marrying a young woman.

How couldn’t they when everybody knew of Cerise Miller? A tiny little four year old girl with round face, brown locks and faint brows.

Your daughter had been a brutal change in your life after returning to Jackson in the spring of 2024. Her birth had been wild, at a strawberry field outside the town.

Everything about Cerise Miller was enigmatic. She was hidden in your womb for months, she arrived in a place where strawberries grew in September.

She liked playing the cashier and painting wooden boxes her father made for her.

And she loved playing hide and seek with Ellie.

Until that stopped.

You noticed one morning, where you woke up and went straight to have something for breakfast. The dishes of last night were dirty and resting on the right side of the sink. Two fake porcelain plates and an old pucca plastic plate.

Ellie stopped having dinner with Joel, Cerise and you.

Soon the thought was forgotten and you walked Cerise to kindergarten and then to meet Maria and Tommy.

Once a teacher, now part of the council and first aid advisor.

Maria kept her promise and made you a part of it some years ago.

“Everyone in favor of lowering the age of the first aid knowledge requirement; raise your hand and say I…” Maria indicated.

Everyone in the council raised their hands and said I. Anyone older than sixteen years old had to learn the basics of first aid and if anyone wanted to become a nurse, you would teach them. Your skills had only gotten better and everyone was seeking Mrs. Miller’s help when injured.

But now, the age was lowered to fourteen.

“Okay, the law will be passed” Tommy finalized and everyone started leaving, except for you.

“Dinner is still up?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, I’m trading stuff with the dinning hall” The couple chuckles.

“Hey, no news on Rosalie and Rae?” You asked. But again, both said no.

You sigh with disappointment before turning to put on your coat.

“Hey and why is Joel visiting Gail so often?” You frown confused at Tommy.

“Joel is visiting Gail?” You ask with doubt. “The therapist?”

Maria and you exchange looks.

…

On the walk back home, you spotted Dina getting out, so you smiled at her.

“Hey, girl” you greet her and she returns your smile with a friendly nudge. “What are you doing here?”

“We need your old man’s help” you nod, unlacing your boots. “Still up for the movies tomorrow?”

“Of course, I just hope Cerise sleeps soundly so we can turn up the volume”

“I bet she’s heard worse when she was inside your womb” you chuckle, but she’s unironically right.

Ellie told her everything once, she knew you hadn’t had it easy.

“Hey, I asked Joel if he knows why Ellie could be mad at me? But-“ she grew quiet, like she was trying to come up with the right words. “But since she relies on you more and we’re all girls, I thought that maybe… you’d know something”

And that’s when it hit you. Ellie barely talked to you. When she did, she was cool with you. She played like nothing with Cerise and made her silly puns. But… you hadn’t seen her much.

“To be honest… I haven’t talked too much with her lately” Dina noticed you were suddenly upset, making her wonder if everything was alright. “I don’t think she’s mad at you. I think she’s just weirded out in general. But I don’t know why”

“I will talk to her” you add, reassuring the girl.

And after she left. You quietly entered home, in renovations and completely in baby proof stuff. You make yourself a raspberry tea while looking at the icy mountains.

It’s oddly quiet for a snowy Friday. But once you enter the dining room, you see your husband fixated on some little job on the table.

“Uhm… Whatcha got there, lover?” You ask, sipping at your tea and leaning closer.

“Hey, mama. Just a little repair…” you hadn’t seen him since the morning. So he leaves aside his job to kiss your cheek and return to work.

His calloused hands worked skillfully and you noticed his glasses resting nearby.

“Here, your glasses, baby” you

“I don’t need those damn glasses” he says with a grumpy tone. “Tommy is just tryin’ to annoy me”

“And so far, he’s succeeding” he rolls his eyes at you chuckling but then turns to look up and can’t help but smile.”Joel, honey… you need glasses”

There is his perfect wife. Very much younger than him, but with the oldest soul he'd ever met.

He playfully snatches the glasses from your hands and puts them on. You cover your mouth, laughing.

“I don’t want you to look at me in these” he says. “You’d realize I’m older than you see”

You quickly remember his visits to Gail and wonder why he had been going to therapy.

Both of you once went to couples therapy, but that was a long time ago and with another person.

Still, it’s not the time to dig into that.

“My handsome pee paw” it’s your cackling that makes Joel huff in annoyance before gently pinching the skin in your stomach.

“Watch it, asshole!” You said as he also started laughing.

“You should be proud we don’t need viagra yet”

“And even if we need it one day, I’d still be the most eager rider at the rodeo” you lean to kiss his forehead and pat his head.

“I have to pick up Cerise at the school” he nods, placing his tools inside an old red box before turning to you.

“I’ll go with you”

Both of you walk three blocks and greet some people. Your closest friends were gone. Two electricians that made you feel welcome; Rosalie and Rae received a radio frequency two years ago, they promised to tell you if anything happened, but so far you had no news. Just hope that they are still alive. Although everyone believed they weren’t.

You and Joel start seeing kids flying out of the school to the arms of her parents and you smile.

There were only eight kids in the classroom. All between four and six years old. You were the last person to give birth in Jackson so far.

“MOM! DAD!” you heard a whiny little voice. And there it was your daughter, with a rainbow beanie and a red backpack that looked too big on her.

“Hey, princess��� Joel greeted her, hugging her and quickly taking her hand. “How was your day in school?”

“Fun! I played with Molly and Finnegan” she was excited and rushed to grab your hand as the three of you started walking towards home again.

“That sounds great, baby” you can’t even focus on your surroundings, you are just seeing Cerise ranting about her day.

“Oh and I have something to show you and dad” Joel and you exchange playful looks before looking down at the girl.

“Did you eat another tooth?” Joel asks followed by a chuckle from you, remembering that she had just lost her first milk teeth and accidentally swallowed it.

“No, dad! It’s something I did in school” she excitedly laughs. “Is for you two”

Music can be heard from the porch when you arrive home. You briefly eye Joel before hinting that you are going to the garage.

“Mommy will go to see Ellie. Okay, Cerise?”

“Can I go with you?” You caress her cheek briefly, eyeing her with kindness.

“Go and get changed. Uncle Tommy, aunt Maria and Benji are coming over”

She quickly forgets about visiting Ellie and sprints inside the house, making Joel chase her with his tired knees.

You knock two times and after hearing Ellie say to come in, you do so.

She was hearing Rush and you hurried to see the cassette box she had around.

“Where did you find this cassette?” She turned around from her bed and stood up.

“From the other day I went outside with Tommy” her eyes snapped open and sighed. “Shit…”

“Ellie, I won’t tell Joel” she nods awkwardly. “Just be careful”

“Is everything alright?” you ask with your arms crossed, looking around. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. But you’re starting to worry me”

“If there’s anything I did, or Joel…. Even Cerise! You can tell me-“ she raises her hands, stopping you.

“No, it’s not that. God no, Cerise is a little sacred thing” you get closer to her.

“I’m just… feeling odd” she seems to be thinking. “I don’t know how to explain it”

“You’re in an age where it’s normal to feel like you don’t know what”

“Yes. It’s just that…” sighing, you grab her hands.

“Ellie, it’s me” she nods again, closing her eyes. “You can tell me anything. And whatever you want me to do with whatever you say, I’ll do it”

Ellie remains quiet for a few minutes. And you are eager to know what she has been thinking lately.

“I think Joel keeps lying” you frown.

“About what?” She sighs, rubbing her eyes.

“I don’t know…”

“Perhaps it’s because lately he’s been more emotional” you try to reason.

Joel had been more open about vulnerability. What triggered him in the past turned into his alibi. It got you two closer. But it seemed like it did not cause the same with Ellie.

“He was shitty when we met him. I don’t want to believe it. But he could be hiding something else…” you frown.

“No…” you quickly say.

Ellie frowns too, dropping your hands.

“He’s not an angel, y/n”

“And certainly he’s not the devil himself”your tongue rolls out the words shamelessly.

For the first time, you don’t wait to see Ellie’s reaction. You turn around and walk away, feeling hurt and angry at the same time.

Ellie’s heart beats fast, her eyes get teary as you start to reach for the door.

And when she tries to reach for you, the door had already closed.

Your husband was good, Joel was fine; you replay over and over in your head.

…

You and Joel end up sandwiching Cerise to see what she had done at school.

She takes out a folder from her backpack and grabs a paper that was slightly wrinkled despite being in the folder.

There are two little figures in the middle of a rainbow. A boy and a girl, the rainbow is uneven but is perfect.

“That’s ma and that’s pa together” her little fingers first points at the girl in pink dress and messy hair, then to the boy with a mustache. “They’re in love”

“Yes, we are very much in love” Joel says eyeing you, you nearly blush. Joel brushes the girl’s hair and she starts looking genuinely excited. She was so creative and kind that mixing both things usually resulted in acts of love for her family. “I love it, baby!

“This piece of art is going straight to the fridge” you say, pinching her cheek.

“Thanks, mom,” she says, jumping to hug you tightly.

She runs to the kitchen and you stay with Joel.

He looks at you and both end up smiling before he leans over to kiss you.

You think about what Ellie said, and you can only see the man who saved your life over and over again.

“I love you” he says, brushing your temple.

“I love you too”

And for a moment. You can see your life through a glimpse of security.

It’s not perfect, Ellie was missing in your vision. But you had everything in your arms.

…

You are staring at Cerise’s drawing late in the night. You left the New Year’s party when the girl started yawning. Joel had been feeling dreamy after seeing you dance with Cerise. He had been so happy although he couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie and her cold demeanor.

And when he tried defending her and Dina? He awkwardly left, thanking that you were already gone with Cerise. He quietly entered the house and locked the door.

“Honey, is that you?” You ask from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s me” he takes off his jacket and goes straight to you. His hands embrace you from behind and you melt into his touch.

But you know him so well. You move away to face him. His face looks defeated and lost, so you make him sit.

“What happened?” He sighs.

“Some fucking asshole. Ellie and Dina kissed and-“

“ELLIE AND DINA KISSED?” You asked with a big smile and shock in your face. Joel only nodded chuckling.

“Yeah. And this man goes and belittles them” he huffs in annoyance. “I just wanted to help her”

He just needs a hug from his wife.

“Even if she can’t see it, you just love her so much to let her be hurt” he holds you closer and it’s you starting a shy kiss that quickly turns into a passionate and messy exchange of saliva.

You need him. Carnally and emotionally, you’d always crave for Joel. Having sex three times per week wasn’t enough, you always wanted to let him know that he wasn’t alone anymore. He could mourn Sarah and the terrors of his past along with you.

Everything was fine. It was a new year after all…

Then why was Ellie distancing? Why was Joel going to therapy? Was it a bad omen that you started feeling?

The more you thought about everything, the more you questioned if… Was it ever over? All the pain and traumas from Boston, Kansas, Salt Lake… or had you all been dragging it forwards? To a breaking point?

You had to stop. You couldn’t break down again. And you wouldn’t let your family do the same.So they could deceive you, then. As long as you could live in a fantasy longer. You could ignore the signals a little longer. But for how long?

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

anyone interested in being part of part two tag list comment pls <3

WELL HAVE MORE JOEL X READER ONLY IN FUTURE CHAPTERS I PROMISE

[meet-me-backstage]

༺ 🐑 ༻

𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ☼ Rancher!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☼ You, a headstrong—bubbly ranch-hand, form a close bond with the reserved ranch-owner, Joel Miller, through two seasons of hard work, warmth, and unspoken longing. You leave to chase your dream, but circumstance brings Joel back into your life. A storm rolls over your land, something between you stirs—unresolved and waiting to burst.

𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ☼ a no outbreak au loosely inspired by Far From The Madding Crowd but it’s set in modern day/Texas, rancher!Joel (🥵), protective!Joel, grumpy x sunshine, bad language, light angst, mention of vomit & there’s blood after an incident with a hammer, age gap (reader is in her 20s & Joel is in his 50s), kinda slowburny, unresolved feelings (until they aren’t hehe), yearrrrrning and SMUUUUT so you must be 18+ to read this story‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ☼ 10.9K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ☼ bad language, mention of vomit & blood, ranch-owner!Joel, light angst, Joel being a little moody, smutty thoughts, allusion to female masturbation, Joel wearing glasses and unresolved feelings. I think that’s all for today folks.

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧���� 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 ‘𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨’ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! <𝟑

⇜ 🐑 ‘𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨’ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🐑

The Texas sun pours over the hills like golden syrup, unhurried, draping the open land in a haze that shines with the sprightly sounds of spring. Wind ripples through the grass — a breath of the earth itself, bending the wildflowers, stirring the cottonwood trees to whispering.

Joel Miller stands at the edge of his field, one boot heel hooked over the bottom rail of a wooden fence, calloused hands resting on top. The brim of his hat shades sharp eyes, and beside him, George — his loyal old Border Collie — panting in the heat. The sheep are quiet today, specks of white scattered across the pasture, lazy under the sun.

It was shaping up to be another uninterrupted day on the ranch — just how Joel liked it.

That is until a horse appears at the ridge.

Joel’s brows furrow.

A rider — you — sprawled back-down across the broad back of a palomino mare, arms dangling like you were half-asleep. Your boots bounce with each step the horse takes. Sunlight catches on you, wild and free as the breeze. You look… peculiar — to say the least.

Joel narrows his eyes and mutters under his breath. “What in the hell…”

The mare picks her way down the slope, nimble and sure-footed, until you come into full view. You don’t move, staying stretched out — sunbathing. Joel straightens up, arms crossing as he waits.

When you are close enough, you slide off the side of your horse — an elegant sort of flump — and you land with a gasp.

“You Joel Miller?” You ask, brushing dust off your thighs. You are wearing a button-up shirt underneath denim overalls — donning a smile full of mischief.

“Depends who’s askin’,” Joel answers, voice gravel-smooth.

“I’m your new ranch hand.” You stick out a hand. “Well. Hoping to be.”

He blinks at you. Dumbfounded. Making no effort to lift his hand to shake yours. “You’re — lookin’ for work?”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look like you’re hurtin’ for it.”

“I’m not. I’m just goin’ where the sun takes me, and it took me here.” Joel’s eyebrow quirks up in a sort of ‘don’t give me that bullshit’ sorta way. You awkwardly clear your throat, dropping your hand down to your side. “Fine — I might’ve seen your ad at Troy’s feed store. If you’re still lookin’ for help I’m handy with sheep, and I know my way around horses. Chickens, too, but I don’t take kindly to roosters.”

Joel’s mouth twitches upwards. “That a dealbreaker?”

“I think I can make an exception — just this once.”

You can see that he’s trying to keep up his mean facade, despite his amusement, by looking you up and down. “You ride like that all the time?”

“Only when it’s hot.” You giggle. “It’s the best way to soak up the sun without gettin’ saddle sore.”

He stares a moment longer, then sighs through his nose. George comes to sniff your boots.

You crouch and ruffle the dog’s ears with delight. “Who’s this handsome boy?”

“George,” Joel responds nonchalantly.

“Well hey there, George. You’re a good boy, huh?” You look up at Joel. “So, how ‘bout it? You gonna let me earn my keep?”

Joel hesitates, then nods. “Try not to scare the livestock.” So he has got a few jokes up those worn sleeves of a shirt that had clearly seen better days. The grass stains all over it are camouflaged by the green and red tartan pattern — it’s also littered with straw that had woven itself in the material.

You give a short, meek nod, then look out over the land like it is already yours to explore. “Looks like a fine place to stay a while.”

Joel doesn’t tell you that he’d forgotten he’d even put a goddamn poster up, that he only did it on a whim of loneliness—weakness… after a fleeting thought of how much easier it’d be if he had an extra pair of hands to help with the monotonous jobs that weren’t a waste of time, no, but took up a lot of time. He was adamant that nobody would dare actually come here anyway. Everyone local knew Joel Miller to be a man of few words—tough to negotiate with. He’d convinced himself that he had been just fine on his own out here… and now you show up, laying on your horse like some desert-wild myth… he isn’t certain the ranch will ever be so quietly empty again.

༺ 🐑 ༻

Your lodgings are small — clean. A cabin that Joel offered to you without much fuss, and you settled in like you’d lived there forever — unpacked a saddlebag full of tattered notebooks, a harmonica, and a few jars of preserves you’d bartered from the last place you worked.

By your second day, George was following you around like a pup. Joel saw, bemused, as the dog would nudge your leg until you gave him a fuss. You talked the dog’s floppy ears off. Truth be told, you talked to everything as if it might talk back — the chickens, the wind, your horse, the rusted tools in the barn.

“I think this shovel’s got a mean streak,” you said one morning, examining a fresh blister on your palm. “Keeps tryin’ to teach me a lesson I don’t wanna learn.”

Joel, beside you, chuckled low under his breath and kept stacking fenceposts.

You turned at the sound. “Did you just — laugh, Mr Miller?”

“Nope.”

“You so did.”

“‘M not gonna make a habit of it — trust me,” he muttered, voice dry as cedar.

You grinned and kept talking. You talked about the constellations you used to track while sleeping under the stars near San Angelo.

“You ever just pack up and ride?” you asked him once too, while the two of you leaned against the fence at sunset, watching the light fade orange and pink over the sheep. “No plan, no map?”

“Why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Joel shifted his weight. “Land needs keepin’. Animals need feedin’. That kind of freedom don’t come easy.”

You were quiet a second. Then you smiled, wistful. “Don’t come easy, but it comes — you just gotta let it.”

He didn’t say anything, but then the next morning, he noticed the sunlight catching in your hair when you leaned over the water trough, the way your lips curved around each word when you talked to your horse, the nurturing tone of your voice when you thought no one was listening.

Joel was though.

༺ 🐑 ༻

By the second week, Joel had learned three things about you.

One: you really did not stop talking. Not in an obnoxious way—just constant, your voice naturally one of the many sounds of the ranch. Like wind through grass, or the ‘baas’ of sheep. You filled the silence the way sunshine fills a room, uninvited but welcome.

Two: you worked like hell. Stubborn, proud, reckless at times. You’d hoist feed bags bigger than you should, would chase stray lambs clear across the pasture without thought. You cursed under your breath when a horse stepped wrong, and you sang while shoveling out the barn.

And three: you loved this place like it was yours already. Spoke to the land like an old friend. Walked it barefoot occasionally, liking the feel of the earth under your soles. “Grounds me,” you admitted, squinting at a storm cloud on the horizon. “Reminds me I’m as real as that storm approachin’.”

Joel was beginning to wonder if he was more real when you were around, too. Not just a ghost wading through his land in solemn solitude.

You still weren’t quite sure what to make of Joel Miller.

He wasn’t rude, not exactly. Just moody — the equivalent of a thunderstorm stuck behind a mountain. You were his opposite — all bubbles and chatter, full of questions and stories and observations… Joel barely answered them — keeping himself to himself, but he had sunken eyes that held so much — you could see that, but you settled for his nods, grunts, smirks — didn’t stop you from filling his silence either.

You told him about Dixie, your horse, who you’d had since she was a foal. About how your ma used to sing to you under the stars, and how your favorite color was the gold of wheat just before harvest.

Joel never asked, but he listened. He always listened.

Days on the ranch fell into rhythm.

Mornings started before the sun. You’d rise, hair loose and boots scuffed, coffee steaming in two tin mugs. George behind you as you made rounds—chickens first, then the sheep, then the slow inspection of the irrigation lines Joel had pieced together.

Together, you and Joel moved through fields, wind and dust on your horses. When the two of you rode out on the lake trail you let the land do the talking. Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you. Heat would flood your cheeks, and when that happened you had a habit of word vomiting… you rambled about your old jobs, the ones you didn’t mind and the ones you hated — then the first horse you ever broke—a gray roan named Myrtle with one blue eye and a spine of spite.

Joel never interrupted. Just let your words sink into him. He told himself it was easier to work while you talked—it kept his mind off the years creeping up on him.

Sometimes he’d catch himself listening too hard.

Like the morning you stood in the sheep pen with your boots soaked in dew, and announced, casually, as you had a sheep bundled in your arms while Joel sheared it. “One day I’ll have my own place. Not too big. Just mine. Some sheep. A few horses. Maybe a milk cow if I’m feelin’ brave.”

Joel’s stone heart jolted. He placed his spare hand over the organ to soothe the pain of your confession.

“Been savin’ for it since I was sixteen,” you added. “Every odd job, every penny tucked away. I’ve got a map, too. Marked the spots where I might buy. This land’s good, though. Yours.”

He clasped the shearers tighter. “It’s old land. Dry.”

“Dry’s not bad,” you mumble. “‘S long as you got lake Isabella.”

Joel didn’t trust his voice so he just grunted and focused on expertly removing the sheep’s fleece.

༺ 🐑 ༻

One evening, you were stacking hay, sweat slicking your neck, arms aching, when Joel came over with two homemade lemonades from lemons you’d picked from the lemon tree behind the ranch-house.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Well, look at you. Bringing gifts. That your way of sayin’ I’m doing a good job?”

He handed you a glass. “You haven’t scared the sheep off yet.”

You grinned, taking a large gulp. “My my - was that a compliment, Mr Miller?”

“You been doin’ good is all.” Joel leaned on the fence, looking out over the field where George was keeping a watchful eye on the sheep. The sky had turned that deepening blue that came just before stars began to poke through.

“Pretty night,” you stated absentmindedly.

Joel nodded.

You looked at him, sideways. “You ever dream of leavin’ this place?”

He thought for a while. Then: “Used to. Not so much now.”

You tilted your head in the manner of a curious puppy. “Why not?”

“I gotta keep this place goin’ for my pa — he put so much’o his time into it, wouldn’t want it all to go to waste — ‘s what he wanted too, f’me to take over after he passed. B’sides, I always liked this life for myself.” Joel looked at you — really looked — and then to the neon sky. “‘Nd — some things are worth stayin’ for.”

Your heart thudded. He didn’t say anything more, and you didn’t press. But you sat there with him, the glass of lemonade slipping due to the sweat forming in your palms.

༺ 🐑 ༻

As the months rolled by, summer deepened. The heat got lazier, the work no easier. But Joel changed. Slowly.

He started talking more.

Not a lot — never a lot. But you’d hear more of that voice, steady and warm like the crackle of a campfire — and you could never get enough of it. He told you about Sarah, his daughter, who was long gone. The ranch was no place for her big dreams — she got herself a job in the city and she was way too busy to give her dad a visit (he never complained about it though, he was too proud of her to ever do that, and figured it was no surprise that she didn’t make more time to travel over for days filled with tumbleweed and chores with her grumpy old man when she could be galavanting about the thriving streets and flashing lights with her friends).

You listened, and didn’t disturb. He heard you, and didn’t judge… he did tease you about how many words you managed to utter in a minute sometimes though, and you’d tease him right back for how few he uttered.

Sometimes you worked side by side in companionable silence. Sometimes he found himself asking you what you were rambling on about, just so you’d keep talking… something you thought he’d never do, not a man who appreciated the sound of silence more than anyone you’d ever crossed paths with.

༺ 🐑 ༻

You’re already in the barn by the time Joel shows up, working a brush through Dixie’s blonde mane.

“You’re early,” Joel announces his presence abruptly, stepping into the dusty light.

“You’re late,” you tease.

“Bullshit.”

You glance over your shoulder and grin toothily. “Gotta go check the lake trail - make sure it hasn’t dried out in all this heat.”

Joel pauses at that. “You goin’ alone?”

“I’ve done it alone before.”

“Not since June you ain’t. Trail might’ve — changed since then.”

Yeah, right — he internally convinces himself that his poor excuse was the truth and not because he’d rather bask in the glow of your rambling, or your humming as you rode Dixie, than to hear nothing but the melodious sounds of bird calls amidst dead silence while he worked alone.

You try not to read too much into the worry laced in his tone, like he’s afraid that if you go on your own you’ll never come back to him. You lift a brow. “You offerin’ to come with me?”

He meets your eyes for a second longer than he typically does when you’re looking at him. Then: “Saddle up Clint. I’ll get the rest o’ my gear.”

“Don’t forget the buckets!”

༺ 🐑 ༻

Clint’s steady gait set the pace, Dixie prancing beside him, hooves light and eager. Somewhere along the trail, Clint found a rhythm all on his own, and Joel let him drift ahead, leading the way through the hills and scattered trees that the stallion knew like the back of his hooves. You don’t mind. Not one bit.

Dixie snorts, flicking her ears as you lean forward, chest pressed against her neck, one hand resting easy on the reins. You start humming — low and tuneless, just something half-remembered from a childhood lullaby or maybe some old country radio song that always played in your granddaddy’s truck.

George sprints in front too, tongue lolling out, ears alert and tail wagging with contentment. Every now and then he checks you’re still following, then returns to his canine patrol up ahead, shadowing Joel’s horse like it’s his duty to protect you both from wayward jackrabbits.

Your eyes are on Joel’s back.

His denim shirt clings between his shoulder blades and he sits in his saddle like he’d been born in it — all quiet control, every movement economical, second nature. His hair catches the breeze now and then, and you gawk at the nape of his neck far longer than is proper. Not that propriety ever mattered much to you.

Your humming trails into a softer murmur, something half between singing and sighing.

Joel hears it— not just the hum, but something in it. Something that tugs at his attention. He pulls on Clint’s reins, slowing him until you come up alongside.

You straighten slightly in your saddle, but your tune doesn’t stop. Joel keeps his lips sealed. But you see his jaw relax, his eyes cutting sideways at you — just for a beat.

Maybe he doesn’t mind the noise, you wonder. In fact... maybe he likes it.

You keep humming — raising the volume a little.

The trail narrows into a small path through tall grass that sways in waves — a green-gold sea. Wildflowers paint the edges in smudges of bluebonnet and goldenrod. In the distance, the low sparkle of water waits — lake Isabella. The lake that kept Joel’s ranch thriving, the one nestled in a little valley like it didn’t want to be found.

The sun has risen higher now, drenching everything in pastel yellow. You can’t help stealing another glance at Joel — at the smooth slope of his nose from the side, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when George barks at a bird and runs even further down the path.

He catches you looking — of course he does.

He notices everything.

“You hum like the world ain’t botherin’ you.”

“That’s ’cause it ain’t,” you answer easily, twirling your pointer finger in Dixie’s mane. “Not when I’m out here. Not when it’s quiet and I’m not being told to hush.”

He gives a small nod, feeling a little guilty for all the times he’d begrudged you in the early days for disrupting the stillness of his ranch because you say it like you’d been told to hush many times — not by him, but by others.

“You don’t like quiet,” he assumes.

“I don’t like empty,” you correct. “But quiet, with the right people... that’s different. Quiet with you? That’s not so bad — I guess.”

Joel’s brow twitches. Not quite a smile, not quite a frown — just that thoughtful crease that meant he was chewing on your words like tobacco, letting them sit under his tongue until they softened.

And the truth is — he’s realizing it too.

That your noise isn’t just noise at all. It fills things… the barn — the long stretches of vibrant greens and yellows alongside outside noises he used to think peaceful, but now just feel hollow when your mouth is closed or you’re elsewhere.

He looks at you again.

You don’t look away.

You don’t need to. There is something about being on horseback under the big sky — the land stretching endless in every direction, the lake glittering a mile in front, George barking joyfully into the wind — it made everything feel simple—truthful.

“We’re close now,” you state, tapping Dixie’s reins.

Joel nods toward the break in the trees. “Mhm — ‘s just down there,” he confirms.

You rode the rest of the way side by side, your knee grazing his every so often when your horses drew too close, your humming quiet now, like a secret between the two of you. The kind of sound that would stick in his head hours later when he’d lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep.

༺ 🐑 ༻

Lake Isabella’s water stretched out like velvet under the sun. The surface is butter-smooth and shining, a perfect mirror of blue sky and swaying pines, dappled with the shadows of dragonflies dancing above it. A faint breeze rustles the grass, making your hair blow backward under your bandana. It smells like damp earth and wild mint.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I thought it’d be dried up,” you murmur, sliding off Dixie with a soft grunt, boots landing in the grass.

Joel swings down beside you. He brings a hand up to block the sun from beaming into his eyes and squints toward the water. “Me too,” he sighs.

You glance back at him, raising an eyebrow. “You kinda sound disappointed.”

“I ain’t,” he murmurs. “Just relieved. Guess my mind went straight to the worst — ‘s been a while since we’ve come out this way.”

“It has,” you hum, recalling the last time you and Joel came here — how you gasped at the sight of the water, how you threw off your clothes until you were left only in your underwear and set a beeline straight for the lake. You remember running into it, the feeling of cold droplets of water splashing onto your feet, then your thighs until you were swimming in it, consumed by it while Joel just watched you floating at the surface from a distance… after he’d gotten over the initial shock at the sight of you happily frolicking about in the water half-naked instead of collecting it in the bucket he gave you (leading him to the realization that the whole reason why you came had gone through one of your ears and flown out the other)… He oozed a protectiveness that made you feel safe enough to do it, somehow you knew that if you suddenly forgot how to swim, he’d be diving in and saving you in a flash.

You also remember trying to persuade him to join you but to no avail. He seemed content enough just to vicariously enjoy it through you.

You walk towards the lake’s edge, grass tickling your legs, the air cooler near the water. The horses follow, their tails flicking lazily at flies.

“You ever swim in it?” you ask, crouching to run your fingertips through the shallows. The water is freezing cold—clear. You can see smooth pebbles lining the bottom.

“Years ago,” Joel admits. He and his little brother, Tommy used to take a dip many times before he left to set up his own contracting business. Last Joel heard from him was he’d found someplace for himself and his wife, Maria, to settle down and start a family. “Back when my bones didn’t click every five goddamn seconds.”

You glance over your shoulder. He’s standing a few feet back with his arms crossed and a wary look in his eyes, just as you suspected. You smile — slow, teasing. “You’ve still got it in you I’m sure.”

He grunts. “I ain’t twenty anymore.”

You slip off your boots, one by one, setting them neatly on a flat rock. “So?”

Joel narrows his eyes at you, but there’s no bite in it. “So what?”

You strip off your socks and your overalls, leaving you, once again, only in your bra and panties. Joel’s throat bobs up and down — awkwardly shuffling on his feet and suddenly finding his boots really interesting to look at. “Sooo are you always this uptight when there’s fun to be had in a perfectly good lake to swim in — especially when the sun is shinin’ down on us so nice?”

“You call this fun?” He mumbles, still avoiding eye contact with you — part of you wonders if he just doesn’t want to look at you, that he sees you only as his ranch-hand, a worker and nothing more.

“It is fun — clearly you thought so too once upon a time.”

He lets out a huffed laugh, shaking his head — you’d got him there.

“Georgie’ll join me then — won’t you, boy?” You glance down at the dog, as always he’s ready to be at Joel’s beck and call, but you notice his head tilting at the high pitched tone of your voice. “Won’t you, Georgie? You know you want to!” You keep beckoning the dog, bending over to pat your knees until you’ve cracked into his loyalty, his tail is wagging and he excitably barks before running in your direction, past you and catapults himself into the water. “That’s the spirit, boy!” You laugh, ignoring Joel’s grumbles under his breath about the smell of wet dog he’ll have to endure in his house later on.

“You gonna join us then or what, Miller?” You ask in a playfully serious tone, spinning on your heel to face Joel again and crossing your arms.

“Think I’m good just watchin’ from ‘ere—” his eyes subtly flicker down to your tits cupped so perfectly by your bra—your nipples poking at the thin fabric…he can’t help it, he internally curses at himself and looks elsewhere a millisecond later before his cock strains too uncomfortably in his jeans to ride back to the ranch… he’s already half-hard as it is, “if that’s er — alright with you.”

“Hm — suit yourself, scaredy cat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re scared — duh.”

That gets him. His strong jaw ticks.

You feel the urge to soak yourself in the cool water before you melt into a puddle at Joel’s feet. You don’t wait. You step in — a sharp inhale at the cold, the bottom silty and soft beneath your feet. The lake swallows your ankles, then your calves. It jolts you awake. You go in deeper, up to your waist until… “Geronimooo!” You shout, copying Georgie’s movements and cannonballing into the lake.

The uncomfortableness of water bubbles invading your ears and the smacking sensation of water on skin becomes refreshing — addictive once you get used to the sudden drop in temperature. You kick your legs and flail your arms around at lightning speed til your head rises above the surface, causing an avalanche of water to splash not so elegantly as you’d have liked onto you and poor George (although he doesn’t seem to mind one bit). You blow raspberries and wipe the water away from your eyes to see Joel staring, “how was that?!”

He’s hardly moved a muscle — but his hands are on his hips now, the same stormy expression clouding his features — except there’s hint of something almost… fond. “Real nice, sunshine,” he answers, shaking his head and trying real hard to stop the smile pulling at his lips.

‘Sunshine’ — his sunshine — you could get used to that.

“Come on, Mr Miller!” You call.

He continues to observe you. His gaze heavy. Shy and confused even. You’re doing that thing again, having that effect on him — an unusual one that doesn’t come natural to him. He doesn’t know how to act — or what to do with the version of you in front of him: wet, laughing, alive — demanding he remember what it’s like to feel good.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.” He’s unbuttoning his shirt after that, drunk on the fumes of your lust for kicking back and enjoying the quiet life every once in a while.

You float—spreading your limbs—feigning nonchalance at how slowly his hands work down the buttons with practiced ease. You try not to stare at the way the muscles move under his skin, the hair peeking from the hem-line of his jeans and shirt-collar — or to picture those pale scars decorating his shoulders that you’d daydreamed tracing with your fingertips countless times. It’d become a habit of yours to not so discreetly ogle him as he, shirtless and soaked in sweat, worked on the fields with a pitchfork in hand… an image that also plagued your mind when you dipped your fingers in the wetness pooling between your thighs at night.

He peels off the shirt and tosses it onto the same sun-warmed rock you chucked your clothes onto. “Could you—” he clears his throat and you can’t see it from where you are but blood floods his cheeks, “could you — er — turn around f’me?” He gestures a circling motion with his pointer finger. You give him a bemused expression and a subtle side-smirk — he fights the urge to roll his eyes, “please?”

“Sure,” you shrug — saying it more to yourself than to him, swivelling so that you’re facing the tall line of trees looming at the opposite end of the large body of water. You distract yourself from the unbuckling sound of his belt and the grunt that leaves his lips when he chucks his jeans to the side.

The lake laps at his shins, then thighs, until he sinks down with a low hiss. “Christ—” he breathes, “alright — y’can turn back around now.”

When you’re face to face with him again you’re grinning from ear to ear.

He shoots you a look — one part irritation, two part proud exasperation that stems from his own disbelief that he’d actually done what you’d told him to. He runs a hand through his dark hair, slicking it back — the gray speckles in it twinkle, standing out more when it’s wet. He then shakes the water from his face with another grunt. “Bet you’re real proud o’ yourself, huh?”

“Shouldn’t I be?” You tilt your head, all innocent. “Got you to do what I said, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t get me to do nothin’. I was bein’… generous.”

“Never seen generosity look so much like defeat.”

“Don’t push it. Might start thinkin’ you enjoy bossin’ me around.”

“Who says I don’t?”

He wants nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off your lips right now. He can think of a few ways to, one being capturing your lips with his, the other being slowly — steadily feeding his thick cock into your mouth inch by inch until he’s balls deep. The latter he’s ashamed to admit to himself because he swore he wouldn’t succumb to the way his cock hardened—ached and his heart pounded, threatening to break out of his ribcage even at the faintest touch of your hand on his forearm.

Maybe his reasoning for hiring you had been selfish. Good company for a lonely man more than two decades your senior had hardly been a part of your resume but you were a quick learner, better and more dedicated than most ranch owners he’d met.

He swipes water in your direction and you dodge, laughing, spinning away. He smiles. A genuine one. Wide and crooked. It has a similar effect to the sun peeking out through clouds in fluorescent beams.

“You’ve got a pretty smile,” you confess. Breathless. Taken aback by your own boldness. You let your feet drift up behind you in the water.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, displaying his crow’s feet and dimples all the more.

You swipe some water, sending a small wave his way but, like you, he dodges and sends you an arrogant smirk. You instantly retaliate, bringing your arms out as wide as you can and sending a mega wave over him — another loud laugh leaves your lips. “Gotcha!”

“You’re gonna pay for that’,” he mumbles gruffly while he wipes at the water streaming down his face.

You meet his eyes, and it’s there — the hush, the weight of suggestion. The cheeky glint in his dark eyes is evident as his gaze drops to your mouth, then back up, trying to be discreet and failing miserably.

You’re so close now, so close that you can smell the whiskey on his breath that sat beside him last night on the porch while he strummed his acoustic guitar — you’d watched and listened from afar. The water is rocking you both toward one another. One more push and you’d be touching.

Then he swallows, clears his throat, and realization crosses his features at just how near you are to him. He examines the ripples around your body colliding with the ripples around his.

He splashes you.

You splash him.

It becomes a back and forth of crashing waves.

Both of your faces are scrunched up. Laughter bellowing from your mouths - it gets louder and more uncontrollable when George jumps inbetween you and Joel, bouncing and barking to catch mouthful after mouthful of water.

Joel wraps his arms around George, pulling the dog into his chest and messing up the black fur at the top of his head with his knuckles— he keeps going until the laughter fades into synchronized pants, coming out as rapid as the constant droplets of water falling from your chins back into the lake — back to where they belong.

“I’m gonna go — dry off. You comin’?”

You shake your head. “Think ‘m gonna stay here a little while longer.”

“Sure—” he nods, “I’ll wait.”

The moment slips as quickly as it comes. Joel turns his back to you and sheepishly glances over his shoulder, whistling for George to follow — but it’s not lost, just tucked away.

༺ 🐑 ༻

Joel peeks at you over Clint’s saddle before he pulls it off and hangs it over the stallion’s stall. You watch the roll of his shoulders as he goes to pick up his hammer.

“What’re you doin’ now?” you call after him.

He lifts a hand — a lazy wave, dismissive. “Just patchin’ that loose post by the feed pens. Won’t take five minutes.”

You frown. “You always say that.”

He glances back, mouth twitching. He tips his chin and disappears around the corner.

Five minutes, of course, becomes ten. Then fifteen.

༺ 🐑 ༻

An hour passed.

You find him fixing the eastern fence — the opposite end of where he said he’d be — his sleeves rolled up, sweat at his brow, hammer swinging with the precision of a man who’s done this kind of work for decades.

“You’re gonna wear yourself into the dirt,” you say as you approach, boots crunching through the grass — one of your favorite sounds.

Joel doesn’t look up. “Fence won’t fix itself.”

“I brought you water,” your eyes light up and Joel’s eyebrows quirk up a bit, briefly stopping his work to give you an expectant look, which you very quickly translate and add, “aaand some bacon for Georgie.”

That earns a satisfied noise from him. He sets the hammer down long enough to take the water from your hand, fingers brushing yours. Fleeting. Rough. Enough to make the area where they touched to buzz and your stomach to flip.

He drinks, then tips the bottle toward you in a silent ‘thank you’.

You lean on a fence post that Joel had already fixed after dropping the bacon strips onto the ground in front of George’s white-socked paws. You give his head a pat, to which he looks up at you with those big brown eyes — his nose twitches curiously at the treats, then he eats them all in one quick bite. Your eyes feast on the land — a visual lullaby. The sheep are grazing on the freshly cut grass in the field, a picturesque front with the perfect orangey lighting above it.

Bang!

A groan.

Another bang.

Another groan.

A call and response.

“You’re not the only one around here who can swing a hammer y’know — let me help,” You offer, your hands on your hips.

Joel grunts. Keeps hammering.

You arch a brow. “That your way of sayin’ I can help? Or your way of tellin’ me to go do one?”

He glances at you again, squinting against the light. His voice comes as dry as he likes his whiskey — although you don’t miss the amused undertone in it: “Figure if I ignore you long enough, maybe you’ll stay still for once.”

Joel’s arm raises for another swing when you stride right up to him and, without ceremony, snatch the hammer right out of his hand.

He blinks, caught off guard. “The hell are you doin’?”

“Taking over.” You flash him a challenging grin. “You’ve been at this for aaages. Those poor old arms o’ yours need a break.”

“They’re not even tired.”

“Well, mine aren’t either,” you shoot back, already turning toward the fence. “And I’m not made of glass.”

Joel exhales through his nose and takes a step back, arms folding across his broad chest, watching you with that tight-lipped look he gives when he’s debating whether or not it’s worth arguing.

“Y’ever fixed a fence before?” he asks.

“I’ve watched you fix a fence. Same thing.”

“That’s not—” He stops. Shakes his head. “Alright. Go on, then.”

You set your boot against the bottom rail and lean in, pressing a nail into the cracked board with your thumb and holding it steady.

“You’re holdin’ that nail too close.”

“I know how to hold a damn nail,” you mutter, lining up the hammer.

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t push you any further, though you kinda want him to — he’s so hot when he’s irritated.

You start rambling as you raise your arm, your voice half teasing, half stubborn: “Back home, I fixed a chicken coop by myself with nothing but a bent screwdriver and an old tire iron. I think I can handle one busted fence board.”

The hammer swings.

Your hand slips.

WHACK!

You go still for a second, blinking down at your hand in shock.

Then: “Goddamn—SHIT!” You drop the hammer with a clatter and double over your hand. “Shit. Shit. Shit. That’s not— that’s not good — you didn’t — you didn’t see that.”

You try to hide it but Joel is already at your side.

He crouches, hands reaching for yours, but you pull away instinctively, cradling your pinky finger.

“Lemme see,” his voice calm but firm.

“I’m fine.” You insist at the same time you’re desperately sucking back the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Uh huh — sure — you know I might’ve actually believed you if you hadn’t been swearin’ loud enough to scare the sheep halfway to fuckin’ Tahiti.”

“I hit it one time. It’s just a little throbby.”

“A little — throbby?” His brow lifts. “Tell that to your little finger.” He gives you a warning glare, “let me see.”

You hesitate, biting the inside of your cheek, and reluctantly offer him your hand. Joel takes it carefully, tilting it so that it’s facing the light.

Blood wells beneath your nail, a bruise already blooming.

He whistles low. “You got one helluva swing, sunshine — I’ll give you that.”

“Oh will you shut up,” you bicker. The mixture of the pain pulsing, your blood boiling over your face and the vulnerability of being under your mentor’s scrutinizing stare frustrates you all at once.

A forced chuckle leaves Joel’s lips. “‘S rich comin’ from the girl who ain’t shut up in her whole goddamn life,” the words spill out like the punch-line of a joke. Unconscious. Harmless. He’s too busy exploring every minuscule detail of your pinky finger to notice that his joke had fallen flat.

You scowl. You’re so fired up that you’re sure there are flames in your eyes and you have to look away — anywhere but at the man whose kind touch contradicted his harsh words, sending your brain into a spiral. “You’re such an asshole,” you whisper — tutting when a tear you’d been too weak to hide trails down your cheek, following the line by your mouth.

Sweet George whines at the same time you sniffle.

Joel finally glances up at you, doing a double take when he sees your glossy eyes. “Hey—” he instinctively reaches up to wipe the tear away, but before he can you do it yourself, messily smearing it with your unharmed hand. “Was just a stupid joke — didn’t mean nothin’ by it, darlin’ — ‘m just impressed you didn’t take your whole damn hand off.”

That pulls a small, forced chuckle from you — it’s better than nothing.

It’s enough for him to resume playing doctor.

He presses lightly on your knuckle, and you instantly hiss through your teeth. “Fuck.”

Joel winces with you. “Yeah, alright. You’re officially banned from fence duty for forever. I tol—”

You shoot him a glare. “I swear I’ll stick that hammer where the sun don’t shine if you start with the ‘I told you so’ bullshit,” you do your best, most moody impression of him.

He stops himself.

At first his cheeks are puffed up, holding in a laugh, but the amused glint in his eyes fades. Instead he looks at you with that unreadable expression — the one in-between stern and soft.

“You don’t gotta prove anything to me — y’hear?” he speaks quietly, only loud enough for you to hear.

You avoid his eyes. He can see that you’re still trying to mask the pain in your finger with a nibble of your bottom lip. “Didn’t realize I was trying.”

Joel doesn’t call you out on the blatant lie.

He just sighs. “C’mon. I got a kit at the house. Let’s get you patched up before you start swingin’ at nails with your other hand.”

You roll your eyes, but when he offers you his hand, you take it.

༺ 🐑 ༻

He leads you back to his ranch-house, his grip on your hand loose but steady, thumb unconsciously brushing your palm every now and then.

You don’t speak.

You let the silence speak.

Joel’s ranch-house is simple but attractive in that weather-worn way. White siding, the paint sun-faded and chipped in spots. Blue shutters frame the windows, cracked and dulled from summers spent in relentless heat. A wide porch wraps around the front, a table and rocking chair sitting idle on one end, a coiled rope and muddy work gloves forgotten on the other.

The screen door creaks open under the hand not holding yours… but to your dismay he drops it anyway to hold the door open. You falter for half a second, then step inside.

The air shifts when you cross the threshold. You’d never stepped foot in his house — you never expected to either.

It’s cooler, darker, and stiller than outside. The scent of tobacco lingers in the walls, mingled with old leather, woodsmoke, and something distinctly Joel. Not cologne, but a combination of pine, earth and coffee beans.

The floors are hardwood, the constant tread of boots visible on them. A runner rug stretches down the hall — its edges frayed. The warm yellow walls are lined with shelves and framed photographs. Most of the furniture is handmade, solid and practical: a sturdy kitchen table with mismatched chairs, a worn leather couch in the next room with a crocheted blanket slung over one arm, and a wood-burning stove tucked into a corner, its iron belly long gone cold.

What draws your eye are the details — the kind of things Joel keeps close to his chest.

There’s an old horseshoe nailed just above the front door’s frame — a stack of old mail held down by a half-carved piece of antler and a row of boots sits to the side of it — Joel’s, a smaller pair that must’ve been Sarah’s once, and a third pair with soles holding onto the rest of the boot for dear life. In one corner, a tall shelf holds paperbacks with cracked spines: westerns, survival manuals, some old copies of Thomas Hardy novels.

On the mantle above the fireplace are family photos — Joel, younger, less gray, his arm around a girl who looks just like him. It must be Sarah. They’re smiling — love written all over Joel’s face, captured even in stillness. Another one shows the pair with Tommy — the trio sitting on a gingham blanket, plates full of barbecue and coleslaw, George as a puppy sitting between them with a floppy ear over one eye. One of Sarah sitting atop a horse with her arms spread wide. The last is of Joel with an older couple — his parents maybe — standing in front of this very ranch-house. The exterior’s walls looked to be freshly painted. It looked like a house where loud laughter was a given.

You don’t realize you’re smiling til Joel’s voice pulls you back to present time.

He’s carrying a dented green metal box in one hand and a damp cloth in the other.

“I said sit.”

You drop onto the wooden chair belonging to the dining table that Joel had already pulled out for you.

Joel is standing tall before you, staring down intensely — your breath hitches — he then kneels so that he’s almost eye level with you and pats your bare knee — your heart pounds so loud you’re sure he can hear it.

“Give your hand over.”

You lay your hand out palm-side up, settling it so that your injured pinky is rested on your kneecap. “You don’t have to make—” you gulp, “such a fuss.”

“My hammer — my problem,” he has a deadpan expression on his face when he says it.

When he takes your hand in his and turns it over again so that he has a clearer view of your injury — you brace for the sting, but he’s handling you with so much care, it never comes.

He holds your hand like it’s made of porcelain, cleaning the cut with the cloth first, wiping away the blood in slow circles. His brow furrows in concentration as he works, mouth pressed into a line like he’s angry at the wound, at the hammer, at himself. “You shouldn’t’ve grabbed it from me like that,” he mutters.

“I just wanted to help.”

“I know.” His jaw tenses. “Still.”

You flinch when he accidentally brushes a sore nerve under your fingernail a tad too quickly.

“Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” your voice small. “You’re — good at this.”

Joel snorts, “that’s ‘cause this ain’t my first rodeo — had to do stuff like this for my little brother all the time — myself too.” Part of you wishes you had been here then to nurture Joel’s wounds, to have the excuse to carefully touch his cuts and bruises. He briefly glances up at you before continuing to attentively tend to you like one of the lambs he’d helped deliver this spring. “Doubt it’ll be my last either — with you around,” he adds fondly, not minding the likely possibility at all — in fact, he welcomes it.

You don’t answer back, which is unlike you, but Joel thinks he knows why.

His spare hand blindly searches for the bandages messily in the first aid kit — it frustrates you to watch it so you grab it yourself with your spare hand, passing it to him. “Thanks.” He eyes you briefly, then works the bandage slowly, wrapping the gauze around your pinky, anchoring it in place with light tugs. When he’s done he smooths his thumb over the edge of the wrap, once, twice—then doesn’t let go right away.

You’re watching him closely — admiring the low light spilling through the curtains catching in his irises, the odd gray hair in his patchy beard, the worry lines etched deep in his brow. His lashes are thick, casting pretty shadows under his eyes. His mouth is ajar.

Joel’s in the midst of having an internal battle between two parts of himself — the part that refused to acknowledge the truth and the other, which wanted you to achieve your dreams — no matter the cost for him… losing you. “You’re gonna be real good at it, y’know.”

You blink. “At what?”

He swallows, jaw tensing before he looks up at you fully—honestly. “Runnin’ your own ranch.”

Your face breaks out into the toothiest grin he thinks you’ve ever given him, causing his heart to palpitate. “You think?”

“I know.” he states assuringly. “Ain’t just the work you put in. Though that’s plenty. ‘S the way you really live ‘nd breathe this way of livin’. The way you talk to the animals like they talk back. The way you take care in noticin’ every little thing about the land — like where the creek bends, which field dries fastest, how the clouds hang when a storm’s comin’.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks, and a pain that only Joel can heal twists in your chest.

“You ain’t ever needed to prove anythin’ to me—” He gently sets your hand back down on your thigh. “This work comes natural to you.”

You don’t even think about it before you're moving. It’s not calculated or careful. It’s just instinct. You lean forward and wrap your arms around him. Joel stiffens under your touch for all of half a second, not at all expecting it — or for him to embrace it as quickly as he does — no one’s touched him like this in a long, long time. He exhales — slow and deep — and he melts into you — blaming it on the infectious toothy grin that drew him in before you physically pulled him in.

“Thank you, Mr Mill—”

“Joel.”

“Thank you, Joel.”

His arms come up around you, folding across your back in that strong, protective way that makes you feel like the world could completely fall apart and you’d still be safe, in his arms. One hand curls around your shoulder, the other presses against the back of your ribs, his thumb sliding slowly up and down your spine like he’s memorizing the shape of you — just in case your dream comes true sooner rather than later… afraid that you’ll vanish any second.

You do the same — resting your cheek against his shoulder, breathing him in — sweat and the subtle scent of soap that had lingered from his morning shower. There’s a beat of silence where neither of you speaks. The world shrinks down to the slow rise and fall of your chests, the creak of the old floorboards under your boots and the distant hum of cicadas through the open window.

“Dinner’s on me tonight, sunshine.”

༺ 🐑 ༻

When the summer began to wane, the light changed. A richer gold — anticipating longer nights.

You started spending more time with your notebooks, sketching land plots, scribbling numbers. You showed Joel your map, interrupting his daily morning ritual consisting of coffee and reading on the porch.

“This one’s up for sale. It’s rough land. But I think I can make it work.” You peeked curiously at the man through your eyelashes, “what d’you think?”

Joel flicked his glasses down from the top of his head, the pads nestling over the tiny scar across the bridge of his nose. He squinted, studying it longer than he needed to. “It’s good dirt. Clay base, though. Think you’ll need someplace with better irrigation.”

“Hm—” you nodded in agreement. “Thought you might say that — maybe you’re right.” Or maybe you wanted to delay your search a little while longer — what was the harm in that?

He wanted to say ‘don’t go’.

He wanted to say ‘stay’.

He resorted to: “don’t worry — you’ll find somewhere that ticks all the right boxes.”

You nodded with pursed lips.

And when you walked off to feed the chickens, humming again, he realized the worst thing wasn’t that you would be leaving one day.

It was that he’d gotten used to you staying — he’d forgotten what it was like not to have you around… and he didn’t want to remember.

༺ 🐑 ༻

The first time you told Joel the land was yours, it wasn’t even yours yet.

You’d just come in from checking the south fence line, dust all up your legs, a ribbon of sweat down your spine, George following you — your second shadow. He loved you as much as he loved his owner — maybe even more, but you’d never tell Joel that. You dropped the newspaper on the porch table between you and Joel, who barely looked up from sharpening his knife.

“There,” you said, pointing. “That one. ‘S mine.”

He glanced at the listing through his glasses.

‘Twenty acres. River access. Needs clearing.’

Joel leaned back in his chair. “Bit wild, ain’t it?”

“Yeah but — that’s what makes it mine I think.”

He didn’t smile, but his eyes lingered on your face. “You’re — serious about it — this land?”

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p’ with a sure nod of your head. Determined and unwavering. “This one’s the one.”

Joel was stuck in his usual state of silence — except he didn’t want to be, he wanted to bust out of it and just tell you how he felt about you — he couldn’t though, not when he was so adamant you didn’t feel the same way. The birds sang high in the cottonwood trees. George was already snoring beside him, tail twitching — probably dreaming of herding sheep or his first litter of puppies. You were too excited — too distracted with thoughts of fence lines, soil testing and crop cycles you could try out on your land to feel the coldness radiating from Joel.

The closer your dream came, the more the silence stretched between you.

You’d still talk of course—about feed, about the horses, about the weird habits of sheep—but the quiet between words grew heavier than Joel’s Texan drawl. His hands lingered when he passed you tools. His sad eyes held yours for what felt like an eternity when the wind blew hair across your cheek.

He couldn’t say anything.

Neither could you.

༺ 🐑 ༻

The night you told him you’d be leaving before sunrise, he cooked dinner again.

You watched him move back and forth from the kitchen countertops and the porch table with bowls of food stacked on his forearms. By the time he’d finally lugged it all outside and sat himself down opposite you on his rocking chair, holding two empty plates, you were salivating, having had to endure the delicious mixture of smells invading your nostrils for way too long — you’d offered to help but he insisted you stay put on the chair he’d brought out for you. “What’s with the all you can eat?”

He handed you a plate without meeting your eyes — whether it was on purpose or not you didn’t know but you don’t question it. “‘S a special occasion, ain’t it?” The words come out cold. Distant.

“Guess it is.”

The two of you stayed on the porch afterward, your plates still balanced on your knees long after you’d finished eating — George laid on his back, his head on Joel’s feet and his tail on yours. The moon was a sliver in the sky — promising change.

“I’ll miss this,” you admit.

Joel stared out across the dark pasture. “What part?”

“All of it.” You timidly glance at him. “Mostly the lake — the animals — Clint — George… The quiet.” What you wanted to add was ‘you’.

He gave you a half-hearteded amused look, patiently waiting for you to say more… you don’t. “You’re the one who breaks it every ten minutes.”

You giggled, but then your voice softened to a mumble. “Yeah — but you don’t mind.”

“No,” he confirmed, nervously shifting in his chair — discreetly admiring the way you beautifully blend into your surroundings — into his land. “I don’t.”

You’d guessed as much, but he’d never said it. The solidarity of his words linger dangerously near your heart… you had to go before you did anything reckless.

༺ 🐑 ༻

Joel Miller’s ranch had been the closest thing to belonging that you’d known in a long time. But it was never meant to last.

Joel told himself over and over again last night as he tossed and turned in his bed, that if it was what you wanted, he had to accept it and let his dedicated ranch-hand, his companion — his sunshine — go.

He had to let you go.

What he didn’t know was that you would’ve stayed — would’ve given into your silly little crush on your boss — without a doubt — if your bones weren’t already pointed somewhere else. If you hadn’t always imagined yourself in a place of your own making, hands in your own soil, sky pressing down on your own roof.

You wake up at sunrise just as you’d told Joel you would, and make your way to the stable straight away. You pre-packed your things before you slept. You didn’t want a fuss or farewell — your eyes were already sore from crying… but the large entrance door creaks as you push through — and there he is. Joel. Slouching against Dixie’s stall with George at his heel, like he’d been waiting for you for hours.

“Didn’t think you’d try to leave without sayin’ goodbye,” he speaks, his voice raspy from sleep, or maybe a lack of it judging by his bloodshot eyes.

You look down, awkwardly bouncing on your feet. “I’ve only been here half a year — I just — didn’t think you’d — care all that much.”

“I care more than you think.”

His words freeze you, forcing you to face him.

There is a wooden crate by his feet. It shakes.

He clears his throat, sheepishly following your eyes until they land on the same wooden crate. “I er — brought somethin’ for you.”

Inside, burrowed in a gingham blanket, is a puppy. A Border Collie. All fluffiness and black and white fur, ears too big for her head, a tiny pink nose and bright brown eyes… trusting and kind. Warm too — just like honey when the sun hits them… just like Joel’s. They’re blinking sleepily up at you.

“She’s one o’ George’s,” Joel tells you. “Only female o’ the litter. She’s adventurous ‘nd stubborn as hell — already caught her runnin’ around the sheep’s pastures... reminded me o’ you in the early days.”

You’re rendered speechless. You kneel and lift the crate—she pops her head up—her paws dangling over the crate’s edge. She jumps at you—her heartbeat quick and strong against your chest. She whines, then nestles into the crook of your arm.

You’re her human and she knows it.

“I ain’t named her,” he adds. “Figured you should have that job.”

“Thank you so much, Joel,” you drag your eyes away from the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.

He shifts his weight and nods. He looks out over the fields, then back at you. “‘S nothin’ — thought you might appreciate havin’ a little company on your travels. B’sides, you really oughta have a sheepdog — can’t be ownin’ a ranch full’a sheep without one.”

“No—” You take a baby step toward him. “I mean — yes — thank you for Juno — but also for — everythin’ else.”

“Juno?” He scoffs. “Like the goddess?”

You shake your head with a soft laugh. “Nah not the goddess or the Sabrina Carpenter song. Juno was the name of this old pickup truck — which I did name after the goddess. I learned to drive back when I was fifteen. The truck belonged to a neighbor who let me run errands on his land. It always rattled like crazy and smelled like oil, but it never broke down. She was tough and went through every kind of weather without complainin’—”

“Hang on.” Joel’s blinks, his face blank — he huffs a chuckle. “You’re namin’ the puppy after a damn truck?”

You playfully roll your eyes, scratching behind the puppy’s ear — she yawns. “Not just any truck. The first thing that ever gave me a taste of freedom. Pretty fittin’ if you ask me.”

“Hm. Juno,” he repeats with an approving nod.

The silence that follows is unusually awkward. Thick with brooding tension—more unspoken words that hadn’t found their way out, no matter how long they’d sat on the tongue. You don’t try to fill it either—not with your usual chatter that Joel is craving to hear — not even with a joke to lighten the mood. It isn’t the time for it.

You turn your back to him after reaching down to pet George, bidding him a hasty farewell before he starts whining, knowing you’ll never leave if he does. You step toward Dixie, already saddled and waiting — Joel must’ve done it for you. The mare bucks her head as you approach.

You can feel Joel watching behind you.

The way your shoulders squared like armor—like if you stayed strong enough, you could ride through this and not look back. There is dust on your coat and mud on your boot heel—details so mundane, so ordinary… they gut him now.

You aren’t graceful in the way movies make women look on horseback—you are better than that. You’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—known. You’re solid. Real — you move like you’ve adjusted reins and cinches a thousand times. Who’s weathered storms, heartbreak and uncharted land. Who’s clawed her way toward a future built on the backbone of sheer grit. And he’d had the privilege of seeing it—every inch of it.

You mount Dixie, settling Juno back in her crate and comfortably in your lap.

You’re ready to ride out into the horizon.

Joel isn’t, however — not quite.

“You sure this is what you want?”

“It’s not about want,” you answer, just above a whisper. “It’s about need.” You bounce in the saddle, fingers fiddling with the reins — more to steady yourself than Dixie. “I need to know I can do this. On my own.”

Joel’s teeth clenched. His eyes dropped to the dirt, then rose again, and for a moment he looked like he might say nothing at all. Like he’d let you ride off just like that.

But then—

“Any chance you’d — stay?” His voice full of hope. “Here. With me.”

The question hits you—a kick to the ribs. You stare at him, heart thundering in your ears. “Joel…”

“I know it’s selfish,” he adds, almost defensively, taking a hesitant step to Dixie’s side. “I know you’ve worked so damn hard for this dream. Hell, I watched you bleed for it. So I ain’t askin’ to take that away. I just—” He stops himself, fists balled in his jacket pockets. “Just don’t want to let you go without askin’.”

Your throat constricts. You can’t breathe — seeing him look so sure and unsure. Like he really wants to have the strength to let you go, but has crumbled and is begging you to stay. “I — I can’t.”

“But would you — if it wasn’t about needin’?”

“I’d stay.” The two words he needed to hear. You look down — away. Feeling so exposed. Vulnerable. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” It damn near breaks him to hear you say something like that. It breaks you when you hear him sniffle too — but before you can start sobbing all over again — before you can shatter and scatter into pieces in front of him, Joel reaches up and encases your hands with his — holding you together.

You dreamily gaze at his thumbs caressing over your fingers—accidentally prodding Juno too, who licks his hands incessantly—causing both you and Joel to erupt in harmonious, shaky laughter.

“I’ll write you,” you promise.

He gives your hands a tender squeeze. “You better.”

You share one last look—one last moment to stash away for keeps. Then you click your tongue, nudging Dixie forward — Joel’s hands slip from yours back down to his sides at the same time a tear falls… you don’t see it.

You rode off, heart heavy but certain, leaving behind the man who has come to mean more to you than you ever intended. You don’t look back — but when the fence line and the ranch-house are shrinking with the distance put between you — only then, just once, do you turn in the saddle. Joel is frozen on the spot — watching with tears blurring his eyes as you disappear into the dust like someone who’d just watched the sun set for the last time.

“So long, sunshine.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ⇝

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 (𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 <𝟑

𝐒𝐨 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 ‘𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝’ 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐎𝐚𝐤 (𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐨)... 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐮𝐭 — 𝐈’𝐦 𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 (𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞??? 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭).

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨’ 𝐨𝐫 ‘𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑂𝑓 𝐷𝑢𝑠𝑡, 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 ＆ 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑜

@dugiioh @monicasblues @millennialeldar @urlivingdeadgirl @julesispunk

𝐽𝑜𝑒𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

༺ 🐑 ༻

[sh4nksslvt]

Hot Springs, Hot Tempers

You and King accidentally end up in the same secluded hot spring. Cue awkward tension, steamy misunderstandings, and fluffy chaos.

King X gn! reader | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, king being bad at flirting(?), ooc king, post-battle

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.2k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You had no idea the hot spring was co-ed.

Okay, to be fair, the old innkeeper had mumbled something about the “blessed harmony of nature,” but you’d tuned her out while ogling the steaming bath behind her. After all, after days of dodging explosions, clashing with marines, and nearly getting cooked alive by Kaido’s fire breath (which—honestly—should be illegal), you were in desperate need of a hot soak.

So, in you went.

Alone. Glorious. Gloriously alone. Or so you thought.

You sunk into the mineral-rich waters with a satisfied moan, stretching out your limbs like a boiled noodle.

“Finally,” you sighed. “Peace.”

And that’s exactly when you heard it—the sound of something massive stepping through the entrance behind you.

You froze mid-soak. Slowly turned your head.

And there he was.

King.

All 20-foot-something of him, broad shoulders covered in black scales and steam, towering at the threshold with his helmet already off, wings folded behind him like a damn mythical creature who forgot how personal space works.

He stopped, towel hanging over his shoulder, completely stone-faced as your eyes met.

“Oh no,” you said flatly, water sloshing around you.

King blinked. “...This is the private spring, isn’t it?”

You shot up, half-submerged. “I thought this was the solo spring!”

“You thought wrong.”

“You’re the one barging in here like some half-naked goth dragon!”

“I’m wearing a towel.”

“Barely!”

An awkward silence settled like fog on the water.

Then you noticed it—King’s expression faltering ever so slightly, as though realizing he had, in fact, just crashed a very vulnerable soak session.

“I’ll leave,” he muttered, turning on his heel with all the grace of a man who never once had to care about bathing etiquette.

“No, wait—ugh. Don’t.” You sighed, flopping back against the smooth rock ledge. “It’s fine. Let’s just pretend we’re two strangers in an awkward commercial.”

King paused. “A what?”

“Never mind.”

He stepped forward, water rippling violently with every heavy-footed motion, and settled into the far end of the spring. The opposite end. The farthest possible distance between you and his very large, very shirtless self.

Great. Now you had to pretend you weren’t occasionally glancing at his shoulders.

To be fair, you tried not to. But he was right there. With skin that shimmered like obsidian under the moonlight and muscles that made Greek statues look like soggy breadsticks.

And then he caught you looking.

You quickly looked away.

“I wasn’t—uh—I mean, nice... wings?” you blurted out.

His eyebrow raised. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

You groaned and covered your face. “I’m under pressure, okay?! You’re like—intimidating hot.”

King blinked. His cheeks, you could swear, colored faintly at the edges.

“Don’t call me hot.”

“Well don’t show up shirtless, glistening with steam like some overworked fanfic trope.”

A beat.

“…What’s a fanfic?”

“Forget it.”

Another silence.

Then, out of nowhere, King spoke. “I didn’t know you used hot springs.”

You side-eyed him. “I didn’t know you bathed.”

“I’m not a savage.”

“Well, jury’s still out.”

King huffed, turning his face slightly. For someone who once split a marine ship in two with his boot, he looked incredibly put out by your teasing. Almost pouty.

You smirked.

“Well, since we’re stuck here together… might as well enjoy it,” you said, leaning back against the stone and letting the warm water lull your muscles.

King tilted his head. “You’re not going to try anything stupid?”

“What, like seducing you with my wrinkly prune fingers?” you held up your soaked hands.

“…Yes.”

You snorted. “Please, you’d combust before anything happened.”

He grunted. “Fair.”

A few more moments passed. You dared peek again.

He was leaning back, steam coiling around his broad frame like silk, wings shifting with every subtle motion. You noticed he had a faint scar running along his collarbone—jagged, healed-over, and oddly… human.

“You have a scar,” you said before you could stop yourself.

King opened one eye lazily. “Observation. Noted.”

“No, I mean… I didn’t think Lunarians could scar.”

He was quiet for a beat. “I got it before the flame. Before I could heal.”

“Oh,” you murmured, eyes softening.

The mood quieted.

But then you, unable to help yourself, added: “...So you were a clumsy kid.”

He side-eyed you. “I fell from a sky cliff. That’s not clumsy. That’s survival.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m sure you looked very majestic doing it.”

“I did.”

You both cracked a small laugh. A real laugh.

And then—

SPLOOSH!

A wild monkey cannonballed into the spring.

You screamed. King leapt halfway out of the water with his wings flared.

“WHAT IN—?!”

The monkey screeched, flopped onto a rock, and began casually bathing itself with a smug little expression.

“…Are you serious?” you muttered.

King glared at the monkey. “It’s staring at me.”

You nudged closer. “Probably impressed by your wingspan.”

“Or your screaming.”

“Excuse me! That was a war cry of surprise.”

“I thought it was a kettle exploding.”

“You—!”

You were cut off by the monkey stealing your towel.

It yanked it from the side, chattered triumphantly, and bolted into the woods.

“HEY!!”

King, somehow, did not move to help. In fact, he looked… amused?

“Don’t you dare laugh,” you warned.

His lips twitched. “Consider it karma for calling me a ‘goth dragon’.”

You groaned and sank deeper into the water. “I’m gonna have to air dry now like a soggy noodle.”

“You’ll survive,” King said, voice warm with uncharacteristic amusement.

You both sat in steamy silence for a bit longer, the earlier tension melting with the mist.

After a few minutes, King shifted closer. Not much—just a foot or two. But it was enough to make your heart stutter.

“...You come here often?” he asked, in the most unintentionally awkward tone imaginable.

You blinked.

“…Are you hitting on me?”

“No,” he said too quickly.

You raised a brow. “That was absolutely a pickup line.”

“It was not.”

“You literally just asked, ‘do you come here often?’ in a secluded hot spring.”

“…Coincidence.”

You stared at him. He stared back.

Then—you burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe this. You’re terrible at flirting.”

King flushed. “I’m not trying to flirt.”

“Oh, no, of course not. That towel drop earlier was just an accident too, huh?”

“That was gravity’s fault.”

You giggled so hard you slipped slightly under the water, splashing like a drunk dolphin.

And then—you felt his hand.

Gentle. Large. Holding your elbow to steady you.

You froze.

He looked surprised at himself too, eyes wide like he hadn’t meant to do that.

But he didn’t pull away.

“…Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly very aware of the fact that your face was burning hotter than the water.

King’s gaze softened. Just slightly.

“You’re welcome.”

You both stayed like that, too long, too close. Until—

“HEY!!” someone called in the distance. “Is the spring free yet?!”

It was Queen.

You and King jumped apart like teenagers caught making out behind the gym.

“I should go,” you said.

“Yes. Right.”

You stood up, realized you still didn’t have a towel, and groaned.

King turned his back with a surprising amount of respect. “Take mine.”

“…Wait, seriously?”

“You’ll catch a cold,” he muttered, ears slightly red.

You wrapped it around yourself, stunned silent for once.

As you left the spring, water dripping and heart racing, you dared glance back at King—still chest-deep in steam, gaze lowered, face unreadable.

But there was a faint curl to his lips. Almost like a smile.

You didn’t know what that meant. But you did know one thing:

You were definitely coming back to this spring.

And next time, you might just forget to bring a towel again.

[lifeonawhim]

"♡Welcome back♡"

Pairing- Barty Crouch Jr. ×slytherin! reader

Warnings- Smut, knife play if you squint, Barty is a warning in himself 🙄, slapping (not him), readers lowkey a brat (as she should), theyre fwb?

An- I suck at writing probably and suck even more at smut but deal with it, please? Love you

Also not proofread x lowkey sucks

Summary- Poor menace baby missed you :(

You sigh in annoyance as you step into the hogwarts express. Where the fuck was he? Barty had told you he'd meet you at the 9¾ platform and you'd looked for him, like a stupid child, carrying all your heavy luggage in your search for him.

After 20 minutes of freezing your ass off, you'd gained a semblance of your spine back and you ground your teeth together as you decided to board the train with your other friends.

James had decided to take your luggage off your hands, you showed your gratitude to him with a hug. He was so much nicer than fucking Barty, you thought. He invited you to sit with him and his friends and you'd accepted gladly- sneaking into the gryffindor lobby's cabin, since houses weren't usually allowed to intermingle on the train due to some brawls that could break out but usually everyone ignored that. You sat chatting with the marauders, laughing and finding pleasant company in them.

You excused yourself to use the loo, and check on your slytherin friends too. You entered the slytherin lobby, peeking discreetly inside all the cabins, the ones which didn't have the curtains drawn on the inside, hoping for a glance of him, annoyed as you were. You didn't find him, to your fucking dismay. Annoyed as hell, you turn to go back to the gryffindor lobby.

But.

A hand yanks you inside a lobby. You groan hard as you bump into a firm chest. You look up, hand grasping for your wand, to hex whoever the hell had pulled you in.

"Not so fast, sweetheart" you hear him before you see him. You push away as your heart flutters. "What the fuck, Barty?" You say, narrowed gaze at him. He has the deceny to wince a little. "Dont be like that gorgeous, I got held up" he says rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah well fuck right off" you say as you turn on your boots and start to leave when he pulls you right back from the back of your neck, his grip gentle but firm. "I'll make it up to you darling, you know I do" he says, gaze locked on you. He doesnt wait for a response. Good for him because it worked. He kissed you- hard. He slips his tongue in your mouth, hand snaking around your waist as he backed you to the berth of the cabin.

"I dont have time, I have to get back and plus that trolley lady will be here in like any time-" you mumble against his lips. "I'll make it quick. Please I'll make it good for you" barty whispers desperately and you knew he would, having done this before countless times.

He sits himself on the berth and pulls you down to straddle him. Barty's hands slide down from your hips to your thighs, his grip tightening as he positions you on him. He kisses down your neck, sucking harshly, leaving beautiful spots of purple and blue along your once smooth skin.

He pushes your skirt up and your fleece tights down, his hand fiddles with your panties before he growls and reaches into his pockets- and takes out a pocket knife and slashes your panties as you gasp. "What the FUCK?" You mutter, you'd make HIM walk without his goddam boxers in this weather too you think to yourself before going along with it. "Sorry baby, took too much time" he groans impatiently as he quickly unbuckles his own goddamn pants and his cock springs out. You cannot fcking believe how much you missed it but it mustve shown on your face because Barty chuckles "Aww baby, I missed you too" he says before he lines it with your entrance and whine escapes you as Barty tenses underneath you. "For merlin's sake, what the hell are you waiting for?" You grit out and he responds with pushing himself in.

Shit. You both groan as you feel the stretch and he feels you. He hisses and his grip on your waist tightens. "Can I move?" He whispers to you and you nod, desperately. He doesnt need more- as he thrusts into you, hard and instantly clamps a hand over your mouth. "Sorry love, didnt mean to go so rough" he says unapologetically as he continues grinding into you. You throw your head back and arch your back as you feel him pumping in and out of you.

"Fuck Barty" you whine out and he nods. "I know love, I know" he whispers against your breasts, kissing them softly as he goes harder. Your thighs tighten around his torso as you grip his shoulders. He kissed you harshly and sloppily, savouring it while he thrusts up into you hardly.

"Stop kissing me like a dog" you moan out roughly and he punishes you with a particularly harsh thrust against your cervix. "I'll kiss you how I damn want" he growls as he kisses you harder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" he chants in a whisper as his hips rock against you in short, sharp movements. His fingers come down to your clit- and Oh. You cry out, unable to help yourself. His fingers move against you in deliberate circles and he coos at you. "Such a dumb girl now, arent you?" He says softly, mocking. He strokes your clit softly as his thrusts are the opposite- hard and grinding into you.

You hear a knock on the cabin "Dear, will you like something to eat?" The woman with trolley asks and your eyes widen as you try to get up and barty pushes you down and puts his hand on your mouth. You shake my head, frantically and he pushes the tip of his knife into your jugular. "No baby, you just sit right here, ill take care of it" he says softly and he grabs your ass with his other hand and guides you to ride him.

"Yeah no thanks mam, we're good here" he says out and you thank the gods for the cabin curtains. You hear her trolly go past and sigh in relief. "There you go, such a good girl for me. You liked that didnt you, dirty girl? I felt you baby" he says as he pushes his knife a little harder and you moan. You yank his knife away and slap him. "Dont fuck with me. Do what you're here for" You mutter harshly and he moans, pumping up harder into you. "You're mean" he gasps out as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, a vein throbbing . You grind my hips down to match his rhythm and his shoves his fingers down your mouth and keeps them there for a second before dipping down to your clit. "Come for me please, come with me" he moans out as he frantically pushes into you, desperate for his release. "Please please sweet girl, come for me" he begs against your tits and you moan softly, clenching down on him as your orgasm washes over you and he moans into your tits too as he gives another thrusts before you feel his warmth in you. He continues to ride out your orgasm together before shuddering. Your thighs shake as you get off his lap and breath heavy.

"Bloody hell, fucked me so good I almost said I love you" you whisper out to him. And he snickers loudly.

"Call me sweet girl again. Only when youre in me though, it definitely got me there" you say dryly.

Barty, his lips tugging into a lazy, satisfied smile, raises an eyebrow. "Did it now, huh?" he muses.

He reaches out to cup your chin in his hand, his thumb brushing across your skin.

"I guess I'll have to file that one away for future use then," he says with a chuckle.

"I have to go Barty" you say sighing as you fix the rest of your clothing and he nods with a smirk. "I know, run back to your little marauders." He says with a mocking tone.

You glare at him. "You ditched me, bitch" and his eyes soften as he grabs your hand. "Didn't" he says.

"Did" you retort.

He lets out an annoyed sigh. "I forgot to grab this." And he passes the knife into my hands, a beautiful pocket knife of silver and serpentine engraving in it.

"For you" he says quietly and you look at him.

You lean down and peck his lips. "Arent you the sweetest?" You say and then smile to him- genuinely. "Thank you, its beautiful" you say and he smiles, his entire face brightens up.

"Catch you later, junior" you say slyly and he winks at you before you grab some of his candy exit his cabin

[jeankluv]

The tale of the fox and the knight - Satoru Gojo | prologue

summary: You have been living all your life in almost isolation due to your true nature, one your parents want to hide and protect you from anyone finding it. But when the spring of your 20 year your parents grant you the wish of being able to walk around the city, you meet him. Your doom. Satoru Gojo, a white haired knight whose intentions in your eyes are unkown. And whose presence in your life will change everything, from how you see the world to your way of being.

tags: enemies to lovers, blood, eventual smut, Gojo is pretty rude at the beginning, betrayal, fantasy, magical creatures, angst, injuries, heavy language, no use of y/n, female protagonist

notes: this is the prologue of an upcoming series I have in mind, but I’m not sure if I should continue or not. And since I don’t have chapter for this weekend I decided to share it with everyone. So pls give me your honest feedback with this new story of mine

materialist | ch. 01

jujutsu kaisen materialist

“So you know your mission.” The king said.

The white-haired young man smiled proudly. “Of course his majesty.” He bowed. “Kidnap the princess and bring her here in one piece. Still don’t understand why you need a useless princess, does your wife not…”

“Satoru Gojo, do not push your luck. I like you but that doesn't mean I'm not afraid to cut out that tongue of yours.”

He rolled his eyes, not giving importance to the king’s words. “I will depart tomorrow morning.” He said and with a final bow he left the throne room.

Satoru Gojo, he was an orphan, he lost his whole family when he was 6. His family used to be a Nobel and prestigious family due to their abilities, they were well respected by everyone in the kingdom, until that tragic night where everyone was killed, everyone except for the 6 years old boy.

The boy only remembered one thing and it was a flag. The flag from their enemies, the Zerua kingdom.

After finding out about the terrible incident, the king took the young boy with him and raised him as one of his new knights, they couldn’t lose his powerful abilities. So the years started to pass and the boy’s hatred towards that kingdom only grew bigger, his heart was full of rage and he only wanted the royal family to suffer.

Now as a skilled knight, he was going on a mission to kidnap the princess of Zerua. Satoru didn’t quite understand why his king wanted her, apparently she was a helpless princess, rumors said that even a butterfly was stronger than the princess of Zerua, so for Satoru the mission was pathetic, he didn’t understand why he had to bring her to their kingdom, surely she would passed out before reaching the limits of their kingdom.

But that’s not something that Satoru Gojo cared about, in fact, if she died, he would be more than happy to drop her lifeless body in front of the king. But apparently that could not be it and she needed to arrive at the castle in one piece.

The white-haired man walked through the extensive hallways, feeling how the paintings of ancient monarchs pursued him with their gaze, as if they wanted to know every movement and every action that the young man was going to choose.

He went out to the patio and was finally able to breathe the fresh air, with the footsteps of his boots echoing on his way to the barracks where the rest of the knights were.

The eyes of the vast majority of his companions rested on him, Satoru knew that it was envy that everyone there felt. They envied that he was the strongest and the king's favorite.

“So why did his majesty called you?” A deep voice talked to him.

“Why would I tell you?” Satoru smiled provocatively.

“Oh c’mon Gojo just spitted out.” The pink haired one rolled his eyes.

“Sukuna… Don't pull my tongue.” Satoru released his belt and leather vest. “The only thing I’m going to tell you is that I won’t have to see your ugly face for a while.” He grabbed his old jacket, which had a couple of holes sewn badly, and turned around.

“Where are you going?” Sukuna asked him. “You're going to say goodbye to your darling…”

“Sukuna shut your mouth or I'll cut your balls.” He looked over his shoulder at him and Sukuna laughed.

“Alright man.” He l raised his arms asking for a truce. “Enjoy your night Satoru Gojo.” He said turning and walking away as he laughed.

Satoru rolled his eyes and began to walk out of the castle, with an apple in his hands, his destination was clear and Sukuna was right with his words. He wished he could spend a night with his favorite girl. A mischievous smile appeared on his face as he thought about it, but it quickly disappeared when he remembered that he had to leave for Zerua and would therefore be away from there for quite some time.

The aroma of roses mixed with tobacco hit his nose as soon as he entered the place. The place was packed with drunks and partiers who must have had nothing better to do. But his mind eliminated all those and settled on a figure. Long blonde hair, green eyes and a slender figure, Stella. She and Satoru had begun to have intimate encounters when one night they were both alone in that place.

Theirs had never been anything more than sexual desire and that was how they both wanted it. Also, they weren’t exclusive from each other. Because they didn’t care, there was nothing else between them that sexual desire.

Satoru would never give his heart to anyone, he would never fall in love.

“Are you free tonight, beautiful?” Satoru whispered when he got near her.

“Oh Satoru!” She said surprise. “Didn’t expect you to come tonight.”

“Well here I am and…”

“Satoru, I’m sorry but tonight will be impossible.” She looked at him with sad eyes.

“What?” Satoru said with surprise.

“I’m meeting another person tonight.”

“Stella…”

“Satoru, we are nothing so you cannot say anything.” She said.

“Yeah I know… I just… I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Leaving?” Stella looked at him confused.

“The king wants me to go on a mission and I will be leaving.” He explained. “I will probably be out for months, don’t know how long.”

Stella smiled with a curiosity reflecting her eyes. “And where are you going?”

Satoru shook his head and took the beer Stella was offering him. “Can’t tell you.”

“Oh…” She pouted. “That’s a shame. Maybe someone finally steals your heart.” She mocked Satoru, knowing he didn’t like that idea.

Satoru made a disgusted face and put the beer aside. "I'd rather be taken prisoner by an orc and kept in his swamp for years, than fall in love with someone from Zerua." Stella smiled widely when Satoru said the name of her mission destination. “You are clever.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say?” She laughed as Satoru rolled his eyes. “So Zerua… that’s quite interesting.”

“The king ordered but I hate the idea, those people…”

“Oh c’mon sad boy, I’m sure it will be fine.” Stella said.

“Whatever.” He stood up, giving one last drink to the beer. “Wanted to have a goodbye night but… doesn’t matter.” Satoru turned around.

“I hope the stars guide you and you are able to return safely, Satoru Gojo.” He heard Stella saying.

Satoru moved his hand saying goodbye to her and he stepped outside the old bar, looking how the sky was already dark.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The sunbeam hit you right in the eyes, causing you to turn around trying to continue sleeping. But your peace did not last long when the door to your bedroom opened wide, letting your maids enter.

The voice of the one you consider your best friend echoes through the room. “Princess, it's time for you to get up.”

You thrashed around in the sheets, shaking your head. “Utahime…please.” You begged.

Utahime sighed and approached your bed. “C’mon princess, spring is beginning and the flowers are blooming.”

Your eyes opened and looked at Utahime with a special glow in them. "I can leave?"

Utahime bit her lip and you immediately knew what her response would be. “You can go to your personal garden, but…”

“But there's no more of that, I already know.” You sighed in resignation.

You got out of your bed and followed the same routine as every day; bath, get dressed and then go out to your private garden.

Once your bluish dress was on and your hair was tied with a pretty white bow, which let some subtle strands fall from your forehead, you left your room. Followed of course by Utahime, she was your most faithful companion, your friend, really the only one you had ever had.

Utahime grew up in the castle, her parents had worked there and your parents had let Utahime grow up with you, you were both of the same age.

At 15 she began to work for you, but you hated that term and you hated the concept that your only friend had to be at your command. But Utahime had insisted, that she did not care, that she was fine with it, but you knew that she aspired to more and that in some way wanting to serve the royal family as a thank you for all the help they had given her and her family, was cutting her own wings.

You glanced at her briefly and bit your lip, you knew your friend too well and you knew she wasn't happy.

“Princess?” She called you out loud.

“Huh?” You looked at her. “Oh… I was just thinking.” You smiled.

“Princess, I know it bothers you that you can not leave the castle but…” Utahime began but you cut her.

“I was not thinking about that Uta… I just…” You sighed. “I know you are not happy serving me.” Utahime looked at you and then away from you. “Uta please tell me, tell me what you wish to do. I will do everything to help you.”

Utahime sighed and started playing with her hands, a sign of nervousness. “I… I wish I could… work as a designer…” Your eyes shined looking at her and with a big smile forming on your face. “But that’s not…”

“I will talk with my parents.” You stood up from the seat you were and walked towards her. “I will make sure to send you to the best school and then you will make my dresses and I will…”

“Princess please, calm down.” Utahime took your hands, trying to stop you. “It doesn’t matter, alright? I’m happy with you.”

You bite your lip. “You are not… so don’t tell me it’s okay.”

“Princess…” She sighed.

Your conversation was suddenly interrupted, as the door of your private garden opened. Making the screech echo through the room and causing your gazes to turn to see who it was. Your eyes narrowed and you felt an overwhelming urge to roll them when you saw that it was one of your parents' advisors.

“Princess…” He bowed his head when he got near you. “Their majesties want to meet you.”

“Alright…” You sighed, not really wanting to see them. “We will keep talking about it.” You looked at Utahime.

Utahime didn’t say a word, not because she didn’t want to but because she knew that responding to a member of royalty could lead to punishment. If you were alone, it wouldn't matter, you would never complain about it but Utahime knew that the others wouldn't allow it and could report it to her superiors.

And she couldn’t risk losing everything she had achieved, not when her mother needed medicine and she was the only one bringing money home. But you didn't know that and Utahime didn't want to worry you with her worldly problems either.

You looked one more time to Utahime and then left the place. You walked before the advisor. The sound of your shoes echoed throughout the hallway, nothing else could be heard in the place except for those shoes of yours. A few years ago those hallways were filled with laughter and kids playing around, now there was no sound.

Ever since your coming off age ceremony something changed, your parents started to be more strict about you, they already were when you were younger but now, you could barely meet anyone. Friends? Utahime was the only one and because she was a trusted person, but for the rest, you didn’t have any.

And you knew why was all this, but it was pointless, you couldn’t hide forever your true nature and the family secret everyone has been trying to keep away. Eventually someone would found out. And… well you were a bit terrified.

Your mother used to tell you, not very kind stories about what could happen to you if the wrong people found out. It terrified you but you didn’t want to waste your life in that castle, not meeting the world, not meeting new people.

“Their majesties, the princess is here.” One of the soldiers spoke.

You heard the faint voice of your father speaking, telling you to enter. The big door opened, giving you passage into the throne room, where your parents were seated each in their place and their advisors were on either side. But your eyes fell on a figure you had never seen before, he was tall, much taller than you, and his hair was white as a snowy day. His back was to you, as you walked towards your parents, you saw how he was standing, with a straight and composed posture, as if waiting for an order.

Your name echoed in the room and your eyes looked at your father, who was carefully touching his beard. “We have some news to give you.” Your heart rate accelerated, was that boy who was now to your left going to be your fiancé? No, you didn’t want that. “You will have a personal escort, so you can go out a little more.”

They both smiled and you looked at them stunned, processing their words. “What?” You whispered.

“That’s right, darling, your father and I talked about it and we have decided to let you go out in the kingdom, as long as you are accompanied by at least one guard.” He pointed to the boy who was at your side. “He is Satoru Gojo, he has been practicing and under surveillance for 9 months to become your guard and he has passed all the tests with flying colors.” You looked at the boy in surprise and your breath hitched when you met those blue eyes, which almost reflected your face.

“It’s my pleasure to serve you, princess.” He took your hand and kissed it.

You felt a shiver go through your body, not sure if it was because those blue eyes were penetrating you or because you felt something weird on his smirk.

“The pleasure is mine Sir. Gojo.” You made a small reverence.

“Please you can call me Satoru.” He gave you the most radiant of the smiles.

“Oh…” You broke the eye with him and looked away, to your parents to be more exact. “So… that means I will be able to go outside?” Your eyes shone brightly thinking about what it meant.

“Yes. But remember you always have to be with Gojo.” You nodded. “Good, then that’s everything. You can leave.”

“Thank you father!” You smiled brightly and turned around.

You felt the presence of the white haired man right behind you. From that moment on, he would become your shadow. But also your downfall.

Comment if you wanna be tagged in the future tag list

[supasolaa]

is this what’s it for?

southern sheriff rafe x country reader

simple times of their lives.

as the both of you walk down the street, rafe reaches out for your hand. you continue looking at the sky quietly. it was a cool spring night. first spring together. you argued last night. he took you to the fields today. apologized. just another season of life. “rafe.” you spoke softly, just calling out his name. he looked at you “hm? what is it, love.” “nothing. just wanted to call out to you.” he smirked, gripping your hand tighter but warmly.

“i..uh…im off sunday.” he spoke after clearing his throat, his now dilated pupils staring at you for a moment too long. you nodded as you both continued walking down the street “that’s good… you gonna stay home?” “well, i..wondered if you wanted to go up to the diner. grab something and do a little shopping. we can go to the lake too. if ya want.” he spoke gently in his southern accent. “hm. sounds nice.. you got that bonus this week too.” “even if i didn’t get it, i’d still do all of it. you know i got the money for something like that.” “mhm. sun’s setting… we should get home, huh?”

once you both got home, you sat on the old wooden chair by the door. rafe took off your boots, and put them neatly off to the side “reckon you need some new boots, love. they're starting to get too scuffed up. can’t have that can we?” he smiled taking off his own as you went up the stairs “maybe sunday? i’m going to wash up.” you called out going up the stairs, slightly creaky.

the house was older, you both ain’t mind though. you washed the unseen dirt of your body. heard rafe doing stuff downstairs, coming up when you were about done. you slip out of the bathroom going into the bedroom, he must’ve cut the space heater on. “hey. cut the heater on for you. didn’t want you cold out the shower.” he spoke getting his night clothes out and a towel. “thank you.” you muttered gently slipping into a bra and some panties. he goes off into the bathroom leaving you to go downstairs to make dinner.

rafe comes down after about 20 minutes with his hair damp, some sweats and a shirt on. “i uh…got dinner started. just some biscuits and grits. didn’t know what to make.” you said looking back at him, rafe laid his head on your shoulder. softly hugging your waist. “it’s fine. i’ll eat anything. i don’t mind, lovely…” you smiled, his arms warm once you started getting cold. “your a little cold, aren’t ya..?” he said kissing your neck. you nodded as you opened the pot lid to stir the grits.

after eating dinner quietly, you both closed all the curtains, making sure all the doors were locked. you went upstairs to get ready for bed. once you actually got in bed though, the home phone rang “i’ll get it. go to sleep.” he spoke gently before answering the phone, the call was brief. it didn’t sound like anything serious. rafe laid down on his side next to you,

“so, they said i gotta go in sunday. some training thing or whatever. can we move our date to saturday. said i can take that day off.” you looked up at him with tired eyes “mhm…it’s okay. stuff comes up..” rafe softly kissed your forehead “i know. but what's the difference in the day, yeah?” he wrapped you around his arms and you grunted, “rafe…?” “mhm?” “love you…” he paused just for a moment

“love you too, lovely.”

[chrissonnyangel]

➤ lunch date shenanigans

You were shitting yourself over this date. It was scheduled for 2:30 pm, not too early in the day but not too late for lunch. Chris had recommended this local cafe downtown, it apparently was his favourite place to be by himself.

The spring breeze flew past your bedroom window, racing into your closed off environment. It drifted through your hair as you sat at your vanity, making yourself look pretty for the day.

A smile appeared on your face at the thought of chris potentially having an interest in you. Who would have thought?

Your clothes were neatly set out on your made bed, a sweet mini dress with a pair of new, delicate knee-high brown boots and a leather jacket to go on top.

Your hair in loose curls, trailed over your shoulders resting comfortably. Your attention went to your phone as it lit up momentarily, checking through it for a couple of minutes. A small pit of nerves lingered in your lower stomach, at the thought of being stood up or embarrassing yourself. Your fingers tapped back onto chris' number making sure he didn't send anymore messages you were unaware of. You sent a text to be on the safe side.

Everything still okay for lunch today?

You placed your phone down against your desk and continued working on your makeup.

Chris had been ready since 11 am, the man had never been so desperate for a date ever. He paced around his room frantically, trying to pass the time and make the butterflies flutter away. When he heard a notification ring from his bed, he practically sprinted to it. Like a moth to a flame. He grinned as he read your message in his mind. Were you feeling the same way? Chris tapped his fingers against his duvet, trying to come up with a, sort of, flirty response.

Never been more ready, y/n.

He set his phone flat against his bed after clicking send. The sun beamed in from behind his drawn curtains, providing some comfort. Chris fell backwards and turned his head to the bedside table, a pretty lily, fully bloomed, rested against the hard wood. God, why couldn't this date come any faster.

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

Car horns beeped in the distance, it distracted chris from the fact he had been waiting for you for 20 minutes. To eager to wait at home any longer. He checked his phone with his free hand to pass the time. 2:20 pm. Great, another 10 minutes. In his palm, rested the lily, its head was drooped low, the petals feeling heavy against it. Chris leaned back on the corner of the cafe, running his hand through his hair a couple of times.

The clicking of heels against the pavement drew chris' attention to the noise. It was you, early. His eyes scanned over you from head to toe. One of the few things chris could remember about you is that, you could dress, real nice.

"Hi." He pushed himself off the wall to stand in front of you, he flashed a sweet smile. "Hey." You looked up and clutched your shoulder bag, removing any hair away from your face. You returned a nervous smile back at him. The sun shined bright from behind your figure, casting a perfect glow around your body. Chris' hands clutched tightly in a fist against the stem in his hand. Your eyes wandered down his body, locking on the flower. He noticed your gaze. "I,-uhm. This is for you." Chris stuttered. Your face lit up with surprise. "For me?" A small smile was carved onto your face, blushing at chris. He nodded frantically at your question, holding out the flower from his sweaty palm. You took it tentatively and clutched it into your own fist, the white of the flower perfectly blended into the subtle pink tone on the edge of the petals. It was a good pick.

"Shall we?" Chris cleared his throat and opened the door ready for you to walk through. He was trying hard to make a good impression. You walked past him into the quiet cafe, finding a seat by a window.

Both of you sat comfortably in your chairs, you placed the lone flower on the table. "What would you like?" Chris spoke up. You cleared your throat and took a glance at the drink names displayed by the entrance. "I'll just have a coffee thanks." You smiled and grabbed a 20 dollar bill from your pocket, handing out for chris. He laughed under his breath, "Don't worry about that. I'm the one who asked you out." Chris pushed your hand away gently and walked over to order your drinks.

After a few minutes of daydreaming while looking out the window, chris walked back over to the table. Placing the tray in his hands into the middle. He sat back down and grabbed his cup, bringing it closer to his body. "What did you get?" You asked. "Just a chocolate milkshake, i'm not a big fan of coffee." He smiled towards you while going for a sip of his beverage.

It took a while for both of you to warm up to one another, but you managed to get onto the topic of what job you got after high school. "So I just went into what I knew I was best at, construction. But I also got the basic training of electrical work along the way." You nodded along to chris' words. "I just did it 'cause I had no interest in going to college or anything like that." He looked away for a second. "That's understandable, I never wanted to go to college. I just felt like I would waste my time." You caught chris' eye contact again, holding it.

"You know y/n, I think that's the longest you've spoken this whole time." He smirked in your direction, causing you to squirm and fidget. "But I like that, I like hearing you talk." A blush appeared across your cheeks, the red hue making the air seem thick against your skin. "So what do you do for work?" He clasped his hands together and leaned on his elbows against the table, listening carefully. "I'm a barista, nothing too special." Chris scoffed at your words playfully. "It could special, you could be a coffee mastermind for all I know." He smiled wide and giggled. "That would be cool." You joined him with his fits of laughs. It was crazy how his mind worked sometimes.

The date only spiralled from there, you two matched each other well, chipping in comments when necessary, making each other feel heard and a cheerful banter bouncing off you both.

But it soon came to an end, when you ran out of things to talk about. Chris made the call and stood up, waiting for you to gather your things back together. He muttered a quick thank you to the cafe workers as you made an exit. "I've had a lot of fun today y/n." He grinned down at you. "Well, i've had a great time too. Thank you for taking me out." The sun began to dim over downtown, signifying the day coming to an end. You both said you goodbyes and followed it with an awkward wave.

Chris walked in his direction and you walked in the opposite one. He looked over his shoulder to take one last glimpse and then passed the cafe shop. His eyes wandered to the window you both sat by, spotting something left on the table inside.

You forgot your lily.

You saw the text message on your screen when you sat down in the comfort of your own home. Smiling at the words, it seemed like he genuinely cared that you get your flower.

Now you had to see him again, even if you didn't forget it you would have gone running back.

taglist - @55sturn @metyouinthehallway @sheluvsthesturniolos @whore4chris @courta13 @cherrystainss @leila-marie4 @csturnioloswifey @l0s3rhaha @starryfursturniolo

[pascalissmoked]

Bitter Taste

-> next part | series masterlist

Summary: In an AU where joel never met Ellie, he shows up one day to his brother’s town, unannounced, unwanted. Though he keeps to himself, you seem to have caught his attention.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Blood, gunviolence, stalking, creepy!joel, kidnapping, stalker!joel, AU!joel, age gap (reader is in her early 20s and joel in his late 50s)

A/N: I wanna write something darker this time. Let me know if you want part 2 to this oneshot!

You felt it run down your hands, thick and slow, red like the pulp of summer cherries.

The Jackson summer heat had gotten to your head and melted what little joy the cherry preserve on your biscuit had left. You let the sticky mess drip down your fingers, past your wrists, down to the elbow. A small red puddle formed on the old wooden picnic table. It looked like a heart. A mangled, beat-up one. Fitting.

Someone was playing an old record of Linda Ronstadt through the loudspeakers. The kind of music that stuck to your ribs like warm soup. The clinking of plates and the chatter of the crowd at the community kitchen blended into a comforting hum. Dina, never one to run out of things to say, was deep into her third story about a fight that broke out during patrol rotations.

“Whole damn thing started over a pair of boots,” she huffed.

It was the first week after final assessments for new recruits. Dina had insisted you celebrate at the mess hall’s picnic area. Jesse and Ellie had argued you should go out on a longer patrol near the lookout tower—make it a camping trip. But Dina wouldn’t budge.

“I didn’t survive clickers and math evaluations to eat jerky on a log,” she’d said.

You couldn’t even be mad. The shade was kind, the food was warm, and Dina’s ranting was familiar comfort.

“I heard the Tipsy Bison’s got live music tonight,” Ellie said, strumming lightly on a half-strung guitar. She wasn’t even trying to be subtle about tuning it for attention.

“Didn’t peg you for a bar kind of girl, Ellie.” Jesse raised a brow, teasing.

“She’s not,” Dina grinned. “But she heard about the new guy.”

That caught your attention.

“What new guy?” You asked

“You know Maria’s husband, Tommy?” Dina leaned forward like a coiled spring ready to explode gossip. “Apparently, Tommy's older brother showed up some time ago. Just wandered in from one of the outer settlements. Lookin’ to trade work for a roof. Tommy offered up his spare room behind the saloon.”

Joel had shown up three weeks ago, no fanfare, just a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a gaze that didn’t belong in a place like Jackson. It was too still, too unreadable. Like something terrible had settled in behind it and decided to stay.

"I've seen the guy around a few times, but I didn't know he was Tommy's brother." You whispered.

He didn’t talk much, but when he did, it was low and deliberate. Like every word had been sifted through a meat grinder before coming out his mouth. And though he kept to himself mostly, helping Tommy with patrol schedules, tending bar, fixing up gear in the garage—his eyes always found you. Watching. Weighing.

"You know he was a contractor before all this?" Dina chimed in, biting into a melting popsicle that painted her lips the color of bruised plums. "A builder. Said he used to make homes for people. Now he tears 'em apart."

Jesse snorted. "What, he tell you that over dinner and a bottle of moonshine? He hasn’t said more than five words to any of us."

That wasn’t true. Not for you. Not after the next day.

It had started with a cut on your palm. A stupid slip of the knife while cleaning fish for the town kitchen. Blood welled up, hot and immediate, and someone called for Joel because he was closest. He didn’t say anything at first, just took your hand in his and wrapped it with that same blank expression he always wore. But something shifted in him when he touched you—like a wire pulled taut.

He’d looked at you, finally looked at you—not through you—and said, "You need to be more careful. There’s worse things out there than dull knives."

The way he said it chilled me. Like he knew those worse things personally. Like he was one of them.

Later, after dark, you were walking back from the library when you heard his voice behind me.

"You shouldn’t be out this late."

You turned and saw him half-lit under the amber glow of the watchtower light. He stepped out from the shadows like something conjured. There was no threat in his stance, not exactly. But you felt it anyway.

"You followin' me?" you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

His greying hair reflected the moonlight as his eyes stayed dull. No sparkle, no light to be found there.

"Ain’t followin'," he said, that half-Texan drawl coating the words like molasses. "Just... keepin’ an eye out."

He walked me home that night, saying nothing else. But you didn’t sleep well. Couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his.

Tonight, the mess hall was alive with music and chatter. A small celebration for a supply run that had gone smoother than expected. You stayed close to your friends, tried to ignore the weight of his gaze across the room. But you felt it, like pressure on the back of your neck.

When you stepped outside to get some air, he was already there, sitting on the edge of the porch, cigarette smoldering between his fingers.

"Didn't know you smoke," you said.

He shrugged. "Helps me think."

"You do a lot of thinking?"

"Lately, yeah. Mostly about you."

His words should’ve scared you. Maybe they did. But there was something hypnotic about the way he said it—like it wasn’t a confession, but a fact.

"You ever get the feelin'," he continued, flicking ash into the dirt, "like you’re not supposed to be somewhere, but you’re there anyway? Like the world made a mistake lettin' you in?"

You swallowed hard, unsure how to answer.

He stood, and for the first time, came close. Close enough that you could see the scar above his brow, the faded bloodstain on his collar. He smelled like oil and metal and something older. Something buried.

"Let me show you somethin'."

He led you out past the gates. Said he knew a spot, real quiet, where you could see the stars better. The guards didn’t stop us. No one questioned Joel Miller.

We veered off the main path, into the wheat fields just past the edge of the safe zone. The moon overhead cast everything in silver. You followed him wordlessly, trusting my gut. The trail wound into the woods, the branches arching overhead like ribs. The moonlight barely touched the ground. You walked, surrounded by nothing but stars and the swaying hush of stalks brushing your arms. And when you stopped, it was in a clearing surrounded by trees that looked like they’d seen too much.

"Beautiful, ain’t it?" he asked, but his voice was distant.

He turned to face you, his eyes darker now, unreadable.

“The sky’s something else here,” you whispered.

Joel looked up. “Reminds me of the world before.”

His hand brushed my jaw. You didn’t flinch. Not until you caught a flicker of something behind those tired eyes.

You turned to him, lips parted to say something, when you felt it—a crack like thunder.

Your body jolted before your brain caught up. Heat bloomed in your abdomen, hot and furious. You looked down and saw it—the bloom of red, dark as plum wine, spreading across your shirt.

Joel stepped closer, gun lowered now, his eyes unreadable.

"You weren’t gonna leave, were you?" he asked softly. "Tell Tommy? Run?"

You staggered, breath hitching, fingers pressing to the wound. The blood slipped between them, coating my skin, sticky and red as fruit.

He reached for me—not cruelly, but with something that looked like care. Something twisted and wrong.

"Didn’t wanna do it like this," he muttered. "But you’re smart. Smarter than most. And you looked at me like I wasn’t just a shadow walkin’ around. Made it hard."

The trees swayed gently above you two, the stars watching in silence.

And as your vision dimmed, you realized he hadn’t come here to bury you.

He’d come to keep you.

Alive.

With him.

Somewhere no one would ever find you.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Don’t forget to check out my other work xx

PS: should i make a part two or not?

[thatgirlmendo]

Until the Quiet Takes Us

Prologue - more chapters to come?? Let me know if you want tagged.

Summary: Joel returns to Austin and on the way comes across the reader after she had a run in with raiders. They left her for dead but he takes pity on her and promises to stay by her side until she recovers… he didn’t anticipate enjoying your company quite as much as he does…

Pairing: joel miller x female reader

Word Count: 1273

Content Warnings: Nothing sexual (yet 😏) some gore - but not much. Age Gap - Reader is 20s

Writer Notes: Y’all I AM HOOKED on writing now. I can’t stop. This little story takes place in the area I went to college and grew up in 😬 I’m excited to write about Joel in my favorite place on earth. I have literally been writing all morning. Comments welcome! I need feedback. Have not proof read yet, but I will once completed.

Sometime in the Spring

Your head is spinning. Your tongue feels heavy. Even opening your eyes feels like too much. You squeeze them shut tighter, trying to focus — trying to remember.

You’d been trekking along the outskirts of Austin, alone now after the last of your group was lost to looters. Cautious and careful you were hopeful that you might scavenge enough supplies to get the hell out of this city for good and continue your plan to head west.

You'd heard Austin was abandoned, that it had been picked clean, ravaged, empty.

And you had believed it. You let your guard down, even just for a moment.

You thought, if nothing else, maybe you could find a place to lay your head for the night, somewhere semi familiar.

It had been years since you’d seen the city you grew up in — and the sight of its skeleton hit harder than you expected. The plan had been to keep moving west, toward the hills, hoping to find old prepper bunkers or forgotten supplies hidden deep in the mountains.

But something pulled you back. Something you couldn't explain.

You knew you were making a mistake the second you stepped closer to the old city center. You knew it, and still but you kept walking.

The layout in front of you brought a small smile to your face. You remembered this place. Long ago, you and your dad would spend your weekends here — walking down Congress Street, hauling the kayak out for a lazy trip down the river. It was tradition. Muscle memory brought you back, even through the ruins. Even after everything.

Your family had fled to the Boston QZ when everything fell apart. You'd grown up there, survived there — until you escaped with a ragtag group of kids barely older than you. Jackson or bust had been the dream. But truthfully, there had been no real plan. Just to keep moving and stay breathing.

One by one, you'd watched your friends fall. One by one, you'd buried them in shallow graves or simply left them behind because your plans no longer aligned with theirs. Until you were here, alone. In the place that once brought you so much happiness. Now you were standing on the bones of a city you barely remembered, trying to chase down a ghost of who you used to be all those years ago.

You crouched by the rubble of what you thought might have been your old street.

The house was long gone, buried under concrete and ash.

But if you closed your eyes... you could almost see it.

Almost, just almost, feel it.

That was your mistake.

You heard the sound but too late.

The snap of a boot against gravel.

You tried to whip around, tried to draw your pistol — but something slammed into you hard from behind.

Your knees buckled. The world tilted sideways.

You hit the ground, struggling to sit up, fighting against the darkness closing in —

And then everything went black.

—————————————-

Joel isn’t sure what drew him to trudge through the once busy city center, it only brought back bad memories of before.

Austin’s bones are all that’s left. Nothing but sun-bleached concrete, skeletal high-rises, old shops gutted and dead. He doesn’t usually come this close. Too many memories, too many ghosts. But something about today, something low in his gut, pulled him in. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was penance.

Maybe, just maybe it was fate?

He keeps his rifle slung low, boots crunching over shattered glass, the occasional rustle of wind tugging at the frayed edges of old banners still clinging to the posts that line the old once busy streets. Joel’s learned to listen for the wrong kind of silence, not that peaceful kind, but the too-still, something-ain’t-right kind of silence.

That’s when he hears it, you, a wet, shallow breath. A sound not natural to the ruins around him. He freezes, body tight, hand already at his gun.

Slowly, he follows it with that noise, gun at the ready if something is wrong.

He rounds a corner near what used to be an old coffee shop, and that’s when he sees you. Crumpled near the foundation of what might’ve been a grand house once. Half-covered in dust and debris, blood is caked into your hairline, one arm twisted at an ugly angle beneath you. You’re barely breathing, your chest rising in tiny, pitiful jerks.

Raiders. Joel sighs, he knows the signs. They hadn’t even bothered to kill you, damn them… just left you to die slow, like trash.

He should walk away.

He should.

But he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he walk away?

Something about you, the way your fingers still twitch weakly, as if you’re clawing your way back to life, you want to be alive. Something keeps him rooted to the spot. He curses under his breath, checking the perimeter quickly, then crouching beside you.

“Hey,” he says, voice low but firm. “You with me?”

No response. Your face twitches slightly, but you can’t open your eyes.

Joel runs a hand down his face, grunting. He doesn’t have time for this. He’s supposed to be heading back west, supposed to be done with this goddamn city and everything it represents.

But you’re so small lying there. So broken. And something ugly stirs in his chest when he looks at you — something he can’t manage to shove down.

It ain’t pity. He’s not sure what it is.

He should walk away. He knows he should.

Instead, he crouches down beside you. His hands are rough when he touches you, checking for injuries so he can move you, but there’s a carefulness to him too, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he isn’t gentle.

“Goddammit,” he mutters under his breath. “What the hell am I doin’.”

Your skin’s hot to the touch, fever or infection, maybe worse. But you’re alive. Somehow you are still breathing.

Joel glances over his shoulder, scanning the ruins around him. It’s not safe here. It’s never been safe here.

Carefully, he slides his arms beneath you. You let out a broken, helpless sound, and Joel feels something twist deep in his gut — something he doesn’t want to name.

You’re not his responsibility. You’re nothing to him, noone. Just another stray the world tried to chew up and spit out.

But when he lifts you into his arms, it feels final somehow, like a line’s been crossed he can’t come back from.

He holds you tighter than he should. Like maybe if he just grips hard enough, the world can’t take you away too.

“You ain’t dyin’ out here,” he says under his breath, half a promise, half a curse. “Not on my watch.”

Joel doesn’t know why he says it. Doesn’t know why he feels it like a brand on his skin.

But he keeps walking — away from the city, away from the past — carrying you with him, feeling the weight of you settle into something heavier than he’s ready for.

Something he already knows damn well he won’t be able to walk away from.

Its sickening and heavy. But he doesn't stop.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

The Only One For Me || Part 2

PAIRING || Boyfriend! College Student! Young! Tony Stark x Girlfriend! College Student! Female! Reader

WORDCOUNT || 11.4K

SUMMARY || Life with Tony as your boyfriend has been a dream, and now you're both getting ready to take your relationship to the next level. After that night, you feel like a different person, and you're happy to have shared this moment with him.

RATING || Explicit (E) 

WARNINGS/TAGS || College AU. No powers AU. Young! Tony Stark AU. Established relationship. Sexual tension. Explicit sexual content.

SMUT || Virgin! Tony. Virgin! Reader. First time. Hand job. Oral (M&F receiving). Unprotected sex (Reader is on birth control). Fingering. Teasing. Praise. Dirty talk. Hair pulling. Back scratching.

A/N || This story has been requested by my best friend and the most amazing person on earth, @ccbsrmsf1! I wish you the happiest birthday today, bestie, and many more beautiful years. I love you and look forward to working on more stories for and with you in the future! 🤍

A/N 2.0 || I want to thank the sweet @mostly-marvel-musings for proofreading this story and lifting it to a new level! I appreciate you so much, and I'm forever grateful 🤍

EVENTS @elixirfromthestars Elixir’s Cinema || I burn for you… + I do… I need you. + “Kiss me.” @fandom-free-bingo Frosty Edition || Teasing @fandom-free-bingo Maritime May Edition || Brushing their hair + First meeting@julybreakbingo Post-JBB || Fear of rejection

All the graphics in this post are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || The Only One For Me || Part 1 || Part 3

The past month has been a blast, as you get to spend as much time as possible with your best friend, Natasha Romanoff, her boyfriend, Bruce Banner, and your very own boyfriend - the tall, muscular, sweet, and shy Tony Stark. From the moment you were on your first date together, you two have grown even closer, and now he’s getting ready to meet you for dinner to celebrate your one-month-anniversary. For the past few weeks, he’s been planning to ask you to go to the upcoming spring dance with him, and tonight will be the night to pop the question.

“Are you sure she will like this?” Tony asks as he stands in front of his life-size mirror, trying on the third outfit as he’s deciding on what to wear. Bruce sits comfortably on his desk chair and looks over at his best friend, trying to assess if the outfit he’s wearing now is the one as his brows furrow.

“Hmm, maybe you should go with lighter jeans instead,” he offers, and Tony lets out a small sigh as he swaps out his black jeans for a pair of light blue ripped jeans. Though it’s not something he wears often, he’s willing to give it a shot, and it’ll go well with the jacket he plans to wear for the night. Once your boyfriend is back in front of the mirror, he smiles as he looks approvingly at the outfit Bruce has helped him put together.

“Glasses or contacts?” he then asks, holding up his glasses as an option.

“Definitely glasses; you know she always goes wild when you wear them, right?”

Tony’s cheeks turn bright red at his best friend’s remark, and a soft ‘okay’ slips from his lips before he puts them on top of his head and walks into the bathroom to switch his contacts for the glasses. You’ve mentioned a few times how sexy and adorable he looks when wearing them, and it will always be a deadly combination for you and your entirely ruined panties in the best way possible.

While Tony is taking his time to get ready, you’re doing the same for the dinner he has invited you to. Your outfit is laid out on the bed after Natasha has put it together with pieces from both your closets, and all you need to decide on now is which shoes to pair with them. However, this is definitely causing a debate between you and your friend.

“I promise you that I’ll be much more comfortable in my boots than your heels! I can barely walk 20 feet in these before I break an ankle,” you tell her with furrowed brows as you hold up a pair of your stiletto heels. The entire time, you feel the nerves swarming through your stomach as you’re afraid to make the wrong choice, wanting this night to be nothing short of perfect.

“Detka. Listen to me,” Natasha says sternly, and you can’t help but meet her gaze in the mirror.

“He will love you in everything you put on tonight - or any other night. You could wear your fluffiest slippers or your highest heels, he wouldn’t even notice! The last thing he’ll be looking at is your shoes, because that man has nothing but eyes for you before kissing you senseless. Trust me, you can wear anything you want, and anything you will decide is going to be perfect.”

When she’s done, you let her words sink in as you look at both pairs of shoes you’re holding. Deep down you know she’s right, and the last thing he will think about is your shoes, so you decide to go with the pair of black chelsea boots to finish the outfit, following your initial thoughts. Then it’s time to work on your hair and make-up before slipping on the clothes, and you look nothing short of beautiful when you’re done.

“I can’t wait to see what Tony thinks when he picks you up,” your best friend says as your fingers slide over the soft lace of the bodysuit. While it’s something that’s usually out of your comfort zone, it doesn’t look out of place on your curves, and you’re both sure Tony’s jaw will be on the floor when he sees you. She also looks at you with a prideful gaze, as she couldn’t be prouder of the happiness radiating off you both when you’re together.

“Believe me, neither can I,” you say with a shy smile, warmth spreading through your cheeks as you’re looking at yourself one last time, admiring all the hard work you and Natasha have put in while getting ready. It doesn’t take long for Tony to arrive after, and you squeal excitedly when you hear his knocks on the door.

“Have fun!” Natasha says as you rush past her, ready to greet your boyfriend. It’s been a little over a week since you’ve seen him in person due to your busy schedules. Now that the end of your degree is nearing, you’re both busier than ever, and you’ve both been looking forward to this reunion. When the door swings open, you’re met with a broad smile and a sight to ruin every last pair of your panties, as Tony looks especially handsome tonight.

“Hi, Angel,” he says as his hands are in his pockets, a blush already on his cheeks as he takes in your outfit for the night. His eyes get stuck on the revealing lace of your bodysuit, and he’s glad to be wearing a pair of his baggier jeans today, as they’ll help to hide the fact that he’s rather excited to see what you look like tonight. You barely get a chance to greet him back, as he gently pushes you against the door to kiss you, not able to stay away from you for another second.

His lips are soft yet demanding when they slide together with yours, a soft moan escaping your lips as his thumb caresses your cheek, while his other hand gently squeezes your hip, taking domination of every sense in your body. His cologne fills your nostrils as you two take the time to greet one another with this kiss, as it has been long overdue. You’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than you’ve wanted, but it’s been worth every minute.

Your bodies mold together beautifully, and it feels like coming home as you two take your time with the kiss. When it’s time for you both to get some air, you can’t stop smiling at him, the butterflies in your stomach going wild as you look into his shimmering dark brown eyes. His shy smile also makes your heart melt, as he looks more handsome than you’ve seen him ever look to this moment.

“Buon anniversario di un mese, angelo mio,” Tony says, making your heart melt at the foreign language slipping from his tongue as naturally as when he speaks English. He’s been raised bilingual - his Mom, Maria Stark, is from Italy so his parents have raised him with both English and Italian - but rarely speaks Italian outside of his parents’ home. However, when you found out that he speaks Italian, you’ve been encouraging him to do it more, making your heart melt as a result each time he does.

Then, after a few more pecks on your lips, Tony reaches into his back pocket from where he grabs a long, slender present wrapped in stunning red and gold wrapping paper. Your eyes go wide at the sight of the present, and you suddenly feel bad for not having anything for him, as you haven’t been able to go out and pick the perfect gift for him. You’re about to tell him exactly that, but he’s ahead of you, reassuring you that it’s okay that you don’t have one.

“All I want is to spend time with you on a night that’s special to us, Angel. Your presence and your smile are the best gifts you can possibly give me,” he says, which makes you smile and melt even harder. If you weren’t already deeply in love with him, you surely would be now, as he never fails to say the right thing. Then you move to open the present, making Tony smile widely as he patiently waits for you to take the wrapping off.

Inside is a necklace with a delicate chain and a small ‘T’ on it, and the color of it compliments your skin beautifully. Unable to know what to say to such a gift, you instead take it out of the small box it’s currently sitting in, holding it up to get an even better look at it.

“Can you put it on for me?” you then ask, and Tony obliges by taking the chain out of your hand and putting it on, his fingers sending sparks through your body, your skin feeling warm from where he touches you. He has picked the perfect length, and when you turn around he gasps softly, as you’re now proudly wearing his initial.

“You look even more beautiful than you already did, Angel. Sono l'uomo più fortunato ad essersi innamorato di qualcuno bello come te,” Tony whispers as he gazes into your eyes, and he has never felt luckier to be yours than he is now, just like he just said. Though you can’t understand the words he’s saying, you’re still enjoying them thoroughly, as Tony speaking Italian is something you will never stop encouraging.

“Ti amo, Tony,” you whisper before smiling and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him again, the words he was going to say now swallowed by your lips on his. His cheeks are on fire as his fingers dig gently into your hips, and the simmering flame that’s been slowly growing between you two is quickly turning to a large fire, passion growing with every passing second between you two.

“We- We should go to dinner,” Tony says with a smile after pulling away, a little out of breath as he gently puts his forehead against yours. You smile back at him as you close your eyes, your own chest rising and falling quickly as well. Once you’re both ready to go, he interlocks his fingers with yours before leading you out of your dorm and towards one of the most romantic restaurants New York has to offer.

The two of you were quickly seated at a table that offers a beautiful view of the New York skyline, as Tony has pulled out every last stop to make the night unforgettable. It doesn’t take long for a waiter to bring out two menus and water for you both, which Tony happily pours before taking a sip, the nerves in his stomach growing with every passing second. The last time he was this nervous was right before the kissing booth, when he was about to kiss you for the first time.

“Can I ask you something?” Tony asks after taking another sip of the water the waiter just brought over, his voice shaking slightly due to the growing tension in his body. His nerves are higher than he thought they would be, but he also knows that he needs to ask what he’s about to ask. You look up at him from the menu you’ve been given, brows furrowed and worry visible on your face.

“Of course, Handsome. You can ask me anything,” you say in a reassuring tone, his cheeks turning red at the nickname.

“I- I know this is a bit silly but- I was wondering if you’d like to be my date to the spring dance,” he asks as the burning on his cheeks intensifies, turning them to a deep red as the words come out of his mouth. Even though he’s not entirely sure why he’s asking you this - you’re his girlfriend, after all -, he’s still happy he managed to get the words out without making a fool out of himself.

“I don’t think it’s silly to ask a question, Tony. But to answer yours; I would love to be your date to the spring dance. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” you tell him, and he smiles brightly at your words. Sometimes, Tony needs some extra reassurance - especially after some of his past relationships that have caused a fear of rejection in him -, and you’re always happy to give him exactly that. Nothing is weird or out of bounds for you two, and you know you can always ask for anything you need.

“Thank you, Angel. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says before grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of it softly. Heat takes over your cheeks as you look at what he does, happiness settling in your stomach. Each day seems even more special than the last with him, and you’re grateful to be loved by a man like him, wanting nothing more than to experience this love for the rest of your life with him.

Then, as you’re about to say something the waiter comes back to take your orders, and when those are given, the conversation turns light, with Tony cracking jokes and talking about your shared interests before you’ll both enjoy some of the most delicious food you’ve ever had. When every last bite is gone, it’s time for your favorite dessert: a rich, creamy tiramisu that has your mouth watering at the sight.

“Wow,” you whisper as you take in its beauty, and Tony grabs a spoon so he’ll be able to give you the first bite. As he lifts the utensil to your lips, his gaze is trained on your mouth the entire time, his body reacting instantly as he hears your reaction to the sweetness of the tiramisu. 

A soft moan escapes your lips as the dessert practically melts in your mouth, Tony’s hand still in the air as he looks at the way your face turns into a look of pure pleasure. He never would have expected that feeding someone dessert could be this intimate, but he’s not minding it in the slightest. Simultaneously, he’s also grateful that his lap is covered by both the table and a napkin, so no one can see what your reaction to the softness of the desert is doing to him. The moan escaping your lips has him painfully hard, but he’s willing it to go away quickly, as there’s nothing he can do about it now, no matter how much his desire is telling him to do it.

“This is delicious, Tony. I would almost dare to say it’s better than having an orgasm,” you say in a slightly teasing tone, your own cheeks turning just as dark as your boyfriend’s at the mention of orgasms. Though you both have been open and honest about never having had sex before, you’re no stranger to helping yourself to take the edge off, and it’s something that’s been going through your mind a lot since getting together with Tony.

What you don’t know, however, is that Tony is planning to make your first time together extremely special, because not only will it be your first time together, it will also be your first time ever for you both, and you’re looking forward to that moment, as it’s going to be a night never to forget. However, the time to head back to your dorm arrives all too soon, as neither of you wants this night to end yet.

As the door of your dorm comes into sight, you squeeze Tony’s fingers in anticipation of what’s to come, but you’re caught by surprise when he pushes you against the wall, his lips immediately fighting over dominance with yours as his hands explore your curves, his warm body ensuring you’re not able to go anywhere. Your fingers are laced in his messy locks as you share the steamy kiss, and soft groans fill the hallway as you gently tug on his roots.

“Fuck-” he says as you pull his head back, allowing you to place kisses on the sensitive places on his neck. If it were up to you, you’d pull him into your dorm right now to share a night of passion, but that’s not what you’ve discussed, so for now, you’ll gladly stick to these steamy make-out sessions whenever you have the chance.

“Angel, please,” Tony says as his hand cups your neck, squeezing softly to get your attention. You pull back to reveal the marks you’ve been putting there, pride blooming in your chest at the sight of them. They’ll most likely disappear before the end of the night but you’re still happy with every last one of them.

“We should get some rest-” he says, only to be cut off by another kiss, as you’re unable to get enough of him. He smiles against your lips as he returns the sentiment of passion, but eventually he pulls back, the need for air becoming too much.

“I love you so much, Angel. I can’t get enough of you and your sweet, soft lips and this beautiful body of yours,” he says, his voice breathy as he’s trying to catch his breath.

“But, I also really need to get back to my dorm. I have an early class tomorrow that I can’t miss,” he says, his eyes softening from the lustful gaze he had not too long ago. His cheeks are bright red as he looks at you, and you nod in understanding before pecking his lips a few more times, making him smile shyly.

“I love you too,” you whisper before pulling him in for a hug, his body enveloping yours perfectly as you bury your nose in his jacket, his cologne filling your senses as you enjoy these last moments with your boyfriend. All too soon for your liking he pulls back before placing a kiss on your forehead and heading back to his dorm room, where he’s getting ready for his early class, and to visit his parents to get some advice, too.

The moment Tony walks into his parents’ house, it’s like a wave of Italy washes over him, his smile growing wider with every step. He loves the independence of living in the dorms on campus, but coming home to his Mom and Dad is a moment he always cherishes, as there’s not a single better feeling than being enveloped in the warmth of their house. Well, that is other than being around you and feeling your lips on his. 

“Ciao, tesoro mio. Mi sei mancata così tanto!”

Maria’s voice fills the hallway as her heels click on the tile flooring, her arms stretched wide to welcome her son home. She’s always the first to greet him when he’s back, and he happily melts into her arms as they embrace. one another. Tony loves her with all his heart and soul, and the bond the two of them share is indescribable - there’s nothing either one of them wouldn’t do for the other.

“Anche tu mi sei mancata, mamma,” he whispers as they move from side to side, her grip not loosening for a second.

“You should really be careful not to crush him, Maria,” Howard says as he walks into the hallway where his wife and son are still holding each other. It’s been much too long since he’s seen his parents, and he’s happy to be back.

“I’m not,” she huffs as she lets Tony go, her hands on her son’s cheeks as she inspects him. He’s practically glowing now that he’s together with you, and she can’t stop smiling up at him, their height difference making her crane her neck to look at him.

“Welcome home, son. It’s good to see you again,” Howard then says before pulling Tony into an embrace of his own, and Tony returns the sentiment, letting them both know it’s good to be back. He can’t wait to introduce you - his Angel, the love of his life and the woman he wants to grow old with - to them as well, as he’s positive they will love you from the moment they meet you. His cheeks start burning at the thought of you, as you are the reason he’s here in the first place, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Maria who pats his cheek lovingly.

“So, how is everything going between you and Y/N? We’ve been looking forward to meeting her,” Maria says as he ushers Tony into the dining room so he can sit down. It doesn’t take long before there’s a refreshing cup of iced tea in front of him, just like his Mom used to make when he was growing up. His smile widens at the mention of your name, and he couldn’t be more excited to tell them all about you.

“It’s going well,” he starts off, his mind flooding with memories he has made with you so far.

“Even though we’re both incredibly busy with assignments and tests, we’re spending as much time together as we can, and I can’t get enough of her presence. She’s so loving, funny and sweet. I think you’ll like her, mamma. She radiates the same warmth and love as you, and it makes her just as special as you,” he tells his mom, which makes her blush intensely this time.

It is clear where he got the blushing from, as he looks a lot like Maria in this moment, making Howard’s heart melt as he looks at his beautiful wife and amazing son.

“Vederti così felice mi rende orgogliosa di te, bambina mia. Mi rende una mamma felice,” Maria says. Whenever she’s expressing these words of love and pride, she often resorts to her native language of Italian, as she can show her love even more that way. Tony’s mouth curls into a smile as he listens to her say how proud she is of his happiness, and he couldn’t agree more.

“Grazie mamma. Sono molto fortunata ad avere una donna come il mio Angelo al mio fianco,” Tony responds softly, and he thinks about you as he says it. He’s very lucky to have met you in this lifetime, and he’s told you before that he hopes to have the honor of falling in love with you in every single universe and lifetime after this one. Maria leads Tony to the living room as Tony has told them before he wanted to discuss something, though embarrassment is slowly filling his being at the thought of asking for the kind of advice he’s about to receive.

“Well- uhm… There’s a- a reason I’m here,” Tony starts off as he’s comfortable on the couch with the tea Maria has made for him, his voice low and his entire body feeling like it’s on fire as he’s trying to find the courage to say what’s on his mind. He nervously plays with the hem of his shirt while his gaze pointed to his knees as the nerves are getting the best of him; and then Maria reaches out, gently laying her hand on her son’s fidgeting fingers.

“What’s on your mind, Mi Amore?” she asks, and Tony sighs before looking up and meeting her gaze, her brows furrowed in worry as she looks at Tony.

“I- I’m hoping to get some… advice, from you both. I know we’ve talked about the birds and the bees, but- but I would like some more advice than that,” he says, his mind going into overdrive as he thinks of every possible answer they could give. Thankfully, they have always reassured him that he can come to them with anything, and that’s exactly why he found the courage to ask for advice.

“I’ve been talking with Y/N, and we want to take the next step soon, but- uhm- I’m still a virgin. We both are, actually,” he tells them, and Howard hums in response, while Maria squeezes his hand in encouragement.

“I- I know how to use protection and stuff, but I’m wondering if there are other things I should think about? Or do things to make it more enjoyable for us? I don’t want our first time to be bad, so…” his voice trails off near the end, relief washing over him that he finally managed to say it out loud. He trusts his parents with everything, and he’s happy to have the type of relationship to come to them with these kinds of questions, too.

“Before you do anything, please ensure that you’re both 100% on board with it. If there’s even a sliver of doubt on either side, you shouldn’t push it. There’s nothing more important than consent, and with that comes a deep trust,” Howard says, now leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He’s at eye-level with Tony, who nods in agreement. The burning in his cheeks is slowly subsiding, though he’s still beet red as ever, making him look adorable.

“While everything we just discussed is very important, there’s one more thing I want to ensure you know. After you’ve had all your fun, and you’re both enjoying that post-sex haze,” Howard says very matter-of-factly, making Tony blush all over again, “it’s very important to do aftercare. Don’t just roll over and call it a night, but take care of yourself and her by cuddling, for example, or maybe take a shower together.”

“Or a romantic bath with champagne and some fruit,” Maria says as she looks at Howard with a shimmer of excitement in her eyes, her husband smiling back at her with nothing but pure love. Tony quickly pieces together that it is something that they tend to enjoy, and he’s unsure whether to be happy for them, or be weirded out by it, as he’d rather not think about his parents doing things like that.

“So, aftercare. That’s good to know,” Tony says, his cheeks a fiery shade of red as the conversation is finally nearing it’s end. While he loves that he can talk to his parents about anything, he’s still a little uneasy when it comes to sex, which is only intensified by the fact that his first time is going to happen soon, and he wants everything to be perfect for you both.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” Howard asks, but Tony shakes his head - he has had enough sex-talk for one day, though he’s very grateful for their advice. Now, he’s looking forward to using all of his knowledge during your first time, wanting it to be nothing short of perfect for you both.

The days leading up to the spring dance seemed to crawl by at a snail’s pace, the classes feeling like they’re never ending and the assignments feeling like they’re becoming longer and more difficult, too. It’s only a figment of your imagination, however, as excitement has settled with you about attending said dance with your boyfriend. Though you’re more excited about what might happen after, because the two of you have discussed your first time together, as well.

It’s been on your mind more and more lately, and now that you’re out shopping with your best friend and roommate, Natasha, you can’t help but bring up the topic of lingerie.

“Do you mind if we go in here for a moment?” you ask as you’re walking by a beautiful looking mannequin that displays delicate, black lace inside one of the storefronts. Natasha hums approvingly before taking a left and walking in the store ahead of you. Even though you’re no stranger to wearing lingerie, it is your first time visiting a store like this, as you’re looking for something special to wear during your first time.

Natasha smiles widely as she heads into the store ahead of you, and you’re soon surrounded with lingerie in all sorts of shapes, sizes and colors. However, your eye is immediately drawn to a white set on a mannequin, the lace soft and delicate as it’s wrapped around the curves of the doll. Natasha follows your line of sight as she stands beside you, and without saying a word she’s off to find you the exact set you’ve been eyeing.

Soon, you’re in a spacious dressing room as you slip on the bra, the matching panties feeling delicate against your skin. When it’s all in place you take a good look in the mirror, admiring yourself from every angle as you let thoughts of Tony wander through your mind. You think about his reaction, but also about how quickly he would take it off in favor of having you entirely bare, and that’s when you get an idea.

You picked a short silk robe in a cream color to try on as well, and you slip it on, the fabric gliding over your skin as if it’s made just for you. You tie it loosely before standing in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, ensuring you can still see bits of the lingerie and some skin before snapping a few photos - both for your personal collection, as well as to send Tony to tease him a little bit.

His response came quickly, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks flush as you see the words “most beautiful Angel” fill the screen. This cements it for you, and you decide to buy all three pieces before changing into your own clothes, ready to pay and grab some dinner with your best friend and roommate.

“And? What did he think of it?” Natasha asks with a raised brow, making you smile at her words. Somehow, she always seems to be able to read you without fault, knowing exactly what you were doing as you took the photos for your boyfriend.

“He loves it,” you say softly, and she nods with a smile before heading to the register and paying for the sets she herself picked out. It’s a mix of red and black, which have become her signature colors, and they both compliment her skin tone perfectly, so she’ll usually be seen wearing one of those two shades.

After grabbing some dinner and settling back in the dorm room, you and Natasha have decided on a movie night with face masks and popcorn, just like you two used to do in the early days of being roommates. It’s become a tradition for you two to do it at least once a month, and tonight is the perfect night as tomorrow is the spring dance. The face masks are one of the brightest shades of blue you’ve ever seen, and you’re both laughing until your stomach aches from the sight of the other looking like smurfs.

It’s been barely 5 minutes since you’ve applied the bright blue face mask to your face when you hear a knock on the door of your shared dorm room, making both you and Natasha curious as to who could be on the other side of the door. You rush over there as quickly as you can, but before you open the door, the person on the other side is already gone, only a golden box left in their place. On top is a small card with your nickname on it, giving away immediately who it’s from.

“Who is it?” Natasha asks after putting some popcorn in a large bowl for your movie night, but you don’t say anything as you pick up the box.

“It’s not who, but what,” you say as you kick the door shut with your foot, the box heavy in your arms as you carry it to your bed, ready to unpack it. Within seconds, she’s by your side to see what’s inside, and you quickly take off the bow that’s been tied around it, so you can finally read the note that’s attached to it.

I love you, il mio meraviglioso angelo.

Wear this tomorrow night, and you’ll be the most beautiful girl at the dance.

I’m looking forward to seeing how angelic you will look as it’ll hug your beautiful curves.

~ Tony ♥️

“Are you kidding me?! That’s the sweetest thing ever!” Natasha exclaims after reading the note, your smile almost splitting your face in half. Your cheeks are burning at the mention of your curves, as Tony has mentioned quite a few times how much he loves them, and that he’s looking forward to worshipping every single inch of your body, leaving your cheeks heated and your heart beating like it’s about to leap out of your chest.

“I know! I wonder what’s inside,” you say softly, and your suspicions are confirmed as you lift the lid. Inside is a deep red gown made of the most beautifully shimmery material you’ve ever seen, and it looks like it’s embellished with diamonds, too. He hasn’t spared a single expense when buying you this dress, making it look as if it could belong on a red carpet in Hollywood.

“Wow,” you both say in unison as you take it out of the box. It’s an off-shoulder dress that’s tighter on top, but flowing near the bottom, allowing you to walk and dance comfortably. The lights of your dorm make the diamond shimmer, and the color accentuates your skin tone perfectly, even now that you’re holding it. You can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like when you finally get to put it on.

“You’re definitely lucky with a man like Tony. I don’t know many men who would go out of their way to pick out a dress like this that matches your skin and personality perfectly,” she says, and you’re unable to stop smiling as you hang the dress up for now, not wanting it to get ruined.

“Oh god, I am lucky, aren’t I? I never thought I would find a love like this, but I’m forever grateful to have fallen in love with Tony,” you say as you pull Natasha into a side hug, her arm snaking around your waist to pull you against her side, too.

“And you deserve it, Detka. There’s no one who deserves it more if you ask me,” she says, making your cheeks heat in response. Not only are you lucky with a boyfriend like Tony, but you’ve also won the best friend jackpot with Natasha.

“I love you,” you say proudly, and she returns the sentiment before letting you go and grabbing the bowl of popcorn, ready to rewatch Grease for the thousandth time together.

The day of the dance is finally here, and you’re experiencing a mix of both nerves and excitement, as it’ll be the first school dance that you’ll attend with your boyfriend. The dress he gifted you yesterday is hanging on your closet door, ready to be worn tonight, and the lingerie you’ve bought is ready to be slipped into after your shower. Music is blasting throughout your dorm as Natasha is getting everything ready for the two of you to do your hair and make-up, making a fun girls day out of it.

As you’re working on shaving your legs, you suddenly hear your phone going off, and you can’t help but take a peek around the shower curtain, your heart rate spiking at the sight of Tony’s name.

Tony >> I’m looking forward to picking you up tonight, Angel. I wish I could see you sooner, though - being away from you for this long is killing me

You can’t help but smile at his words, as you’ve talked to him on FaceTime not too long ago. That doesn’t mean you’re not excited to see him, however, as it’s all you can think about. All you know is that he’ll wear a suit that will go perfectly with your dress, but he hasn’t let loose about what color it will be. Thankfully, you don’t have to wait that long anymore, as both Tony and Bruce will pick you and Natasha up in less than four hours.

“What do you think?” you ask Natasha when you’ve gotten fully dressed, and you’re showing off the finished ensemble.

“I think that he needs to pick up his jaw from the floor when he sees you. You’re beautiful, Detka, and Tony is very lucky to have such a hot piece of arm candy for the night,” she says as she puts the finishing touches on her own hair. You don’t get the chance to answer her, however, as you hear a knock on the door before you get the chance. You rush over to the door, and you’re met with a sight for sore eyes.

Tony is holding a bouquet of white tulips as he smiles widely, his gaze roaming over your figure as you’re standing in front of him. The necklace with the little ‘T’ on it is highlighting your neck perfectly, and the dress hugs your body in all the right places, making you feel like the angel Tony always tells you that you are.

“Hi,” is all you can say as you take the flowers from him, your mind having gone blank at the sight of Tony in a perfectly tailored black suit, though the tie is made of the exact same fabric of your dress. His hair is messy in his own perfect way, and he opted to wear a set of dark-rimmed glasses to finish off his look. While Tony always looks handsome in his casual looks, he looks downright stunning in his suit, and you can’t get enough of the sight.

You quickly put the tulips in a vase before heading out the door, followed by Bruce and Natasha who had their moment of greeting, too. The Uber Tony ordered is waiting for you downstairs, and like a true gentleman he opens the door for you, allowing you and Natasha to get seated first, followed by himself and Bruce, and the night is officially off to an amazing start as you’re looking around the car, admiring the friendships you’ve built with all of them over time.

While the night is started off with some drinks and laughter, it quickly changes to seeing who can do the weirdest dance moves, only for the music to turn from an upbeat dance number to a slower song, and Tony holds out his hand for you as an invite to join him on the dancefloor. You happily take it, allowing him to guide you towards the dancefloor and take the lead in your slow dance.

Your body is pressed against his as your hands are on his chest, and his long fingers gently dig into your hips as you’re swaying back and forth. He looks at you with love in his eyes and a small smile on his face, and pink cheeks from the warmth in the room.

“I love you,” you tell him, and his smile immediately widens. He’ll never get enough of hearing those words from you.

“I love you too, Angel. Thank you for showing me what true love is like, and for being my date tonight. I’m happy to be able to share these moments with you instead of with Bruce as we’re sitting down the entire time as he’s unable to stop talking about Natasha.”

Right on cue, you meet your best friend’s gaze as she dances with her boyfriend, and she winks at you before looking back at Bruce. Tony leans down when you’re facing him again, but instead of placing a kiss on your lips like you thought he would do, he presses one to the top of your nose, catching you off-guard in the best way possible.

“What did you do that for?!” You ask playfully, and he shrugs while blushing even harder, making you want to return the favor. And you do exactly that, making him smile widely as you place a kiss on the tip of his nose, too. And just like that, a tradition is born.

“What do you say about heading back to the dorm, huh?” Tony whispers in your ear while dancing, the night coming to an end as more and more people are heading back to their dorms or to continue the party in one of the many nearby bars. Your head was resting against his shoulder as you swayed back and forth, but his words immediately set your entire body on fire, knowing exactly what he’s asking of you.

“I think that’s exactly what we should do,” you tell him as your fingers glide into the hair on the nape of his neck, your lips meeting him in a passionate exchange. The night you’ve been looking forward to for a long time is finally here – after tonight you’re not going to be a virgin anymore, as you will give yourself fully to the man you love.

Looking back on it, there’s not a single moment you remember from the way back to the dorm, as you and Tony haven’t been able to let go of one another for a single moment, constantly touching, kissing, whispering sweet nothings. You were both everywhere at once, and your mind has gone blank soon after getting into the Uber, and all you remember is Tony pulling you onto his lap, where you could feel all of him.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, Tony pushes you against it as he cups your cheeks with both hands, ensuring he can meet your gaze properly. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you’re attempting to catch your breath, but it’s difficult when he keeps stealing the air from them every few moments by pressing his lips hungrily against yours. Your dress quickly finds its way to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your heels, the white lingerie and the necklace, making Tony groan at the possessiveness of you wearing his initials.

“Did you buy this for me, Angel?” he whispers, his voice rough as he takes a step back, admiring the lace against your skin. Your nipples pebble at the attention he’s giving you, and you nod in response as you turn around in your spot, showing him the rest of the lacey fabric as it hugs your curves.

“It’s too bad I won’t be able to enjoy it for much longer,” he says hungrily which sets your cheeks on fire, and his words are followed by him sinking onto his knees so his face is at the same level as your dripping, clenching pussy. You’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it’s finally here, you’re just as hungry for it as he is. He looks up at you with a questioning look, not moving another inch without your permission.

“I- I’m burning for you, Tony, I do-,” is all you can say before he lets his fingers glide over your thighs, the roughness of his fingertips making your head reel at the feeling of them against your thighs. He gently grabs your calf before lifting it and hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him the perfect view of your thoroughly ruined panties. He reaches up to let his thumb glide over the fabric covering you, making you moan loudly as he finds your sensitive clit.

He smirks as he looks up at you through his lashes, though your eyes are closed as your head has fallen against the door. Tony leans in before letting his tongue follow the same path his finger just did, a groan escaping his chest at the first taste of you, immediately making him want more. Before you know it, the fabric is slipped to the side and his tongue has found your clit, making you roll your hips to meet his pace.

“Oh god- I’m close-” you say as you lace your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you in the process. Tony keeps alternating between sucking and licking, and you’re surprised when he gently works one of his fingers into your clenching pussy, and that ultimately leads to you falling apart. Your first orgasm brought on by your boyfriend is nothing short of amazing as he takes his time to work you through it, his own cock straining painfully against the zipper of his pants.

“Kiss me.” It’s all you can say after screaming his name for the past few minutes, and he obliges by gently pulling your leg off his shoulder and rising to his full height, giving you goosebumps as you see the height difference between the two of you. His lips instantly find yours and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, and it adds to the hotness of the moment as you pull him closer against you, not a single inch of space between you two.

“Let’s lie down for a moment, Angel,” Tony says as he gently coaxed you towards your bed, and you let yourself fall on it with a thud before he rearranges your body in an effortless manner, making your heart beat faster as your entire body feels like it’s set on fire. Your boyfriend takes the time to undress himself before you, making a show of it as you drink in every inch of his beautiful body, every ridge, muscle and freckle being uncovered.

Then, it’s finally time for him to join you in bed, and you get comfortable against his side as you try to gather the courage to say what’s on your mind. He notices something’s going on, and he tucks a piece of hair behind your hair before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“A penny for your thoughts?” he asks, making you smile before looking up at him with a deep breath.

“I- I want to make you feel good, too,” you admit shyly as you let your fingers glide through his happy trail, a small smile on your lips as you look up at your boyfriend. His cheeks are still tinted pink from the effort he went through to bring you to your high, but his eyes are displaying a curious look.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to that, Angel,” he tells you, his lips finding yours effortlessly as he bends down to capture them. You can still taste yourself on his tongue as you get lost in the kiss, a soft groan audible as your fingers slip underneath the band of his boxers, ready to give him the same treatment as he has given you not too long ago. When you pull away, his lips are swollen and red, matching the color of his cheeks, and he gasps audibly when your fingers wrap around his cock.

“You’re so big,” you whisper as you pull your gaze down to the outline of his cock in his underwear, where your hand is holding him to get used to the feeling. The hardness of it, combined with the soft skin and the texture of the veins make for an odd experience, but you’re soon used to the feeling, even daring to work your hand up and down a few times. The friction of his boxers against his sensitive, soft tip have him clutching the sheets, his chest rising and falling quickly.

Without saying anything, you move to kneel between his legs, his boxers now showing the perfect outline of his length, a wet spot of pre-cum staining it on the top right. You can’t wait much longer and you gently pull down the fabric that’s keeping you from your main goal, and you’re not disappointed in the slightest. His cock is long and thick, and light blue veins run across the flesh towards his red, leaking tip. His skin is soft when you touch it again, your fingertips grazing over the sensitive veins.

“A-Angel,” his voice is teetering on the edge of begging, as he wants nothing more than the pleasure you’re about to give him. He’s a patient man, but when he’s this close to having your mouth wrapped around him, it’s impossible not to get impatient, though he wouldn’t push you past what you’re comfortable with. He’s told you before that he’s allowing you to set the pace of the evening, and he’s sticking to his word.

“You’re being such a good boy for me,” you say as you play with his balls, which earns you a loud moan of your name, his hands digging into the sheets even further. His back arches as you let your free hand wrap around his length, the feeling of your hands nearly being too much. He’s been waiting for this moment for a long time, and he’s not sure how long he’ll last if you keep going like this.

You move forward to lick a stripe all along the length of his cock, followed by you gently sucking on his soft tip while you keep playing with his balls, and it earns you exactly the reaction you’re hoping for. His hips roll in response to your moves, his cock nudging deeper into your mouth as he does. He knows he’s not going to last long, but you don’t mind as you double your efforts, earning yourself a loud moan of your name as his cock spills every last drop of cum into your mouth.

When you’ve worked him through his orgasm and he’s gone entirely soft - even like this he’s still very impressive when it comes to length - you climb over his sweat-adorned body to kiss him again, giving him a nice surprise when he learns you didn’t swallow, instead fulfilling one of his fantasies by allowing him to kiss you right after he came in your mouth. It’s been one of his dirtiest fantasies about you, but one you’re more than happy to oblige in.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks as he looks you over, his hands rubbing your skin lovingly.

“Good. Different, but not in a bad way,” you say with a satisfied smile, and Tony hums in response, his own mouth curling into a smile, too. The air between the two of you has shifted in a positive way, the trust between you and him even stronger now that you’ve seen each other in such vulnerable states.

“Good,” he whispers as you tuck your face into his neck, the closeness being something you crave after everything that just happened. His fingers draw abstract figures on your back as you get some rest, your mind still feeling very fuzzy after everything that’s happened so far.

When you wake up, Tony is more than happy to see your eyes again, as they’re one of his favorite things about you, and he smiles at you before flipping you over without warning. You shriek in excitement, and when he covers you entirely, his size kink is going wild for a moment, his cock pulsing in excitement at the sight of you like this underneath him.

“Are you ready for more, Angel?” he asks, and you nod quickly, lust coursing through every inch of you.

“Let me grab a condom-” Tony says as he leans over towards the nightstand, but before he can grab the handle, you wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He immediately looks over at you with worry in his eyes, your cheeks heating under his intense gaze. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire each time he looks at you, but now there’s a pang in your chest that makes you feel bad about stopping him in his tracks like this.

“You don’t- I mean, we don’t have to use one, Tony. I’m on birth control, and I want to feel you, all of you tonight. There’s no one else in this lifetime for me, and there’s no one I trust more than you. Unless you want to use one, of course,” you say to reassure him. It takes a moment for it to process in his mind, but his mouth curls into a smirk when he realizes what you’ve just asked from him. You want him to slide in bare for the first time, and he’s not saying no to an opportunity like that.

A hint of mischief is visible in his eyes as he repositions himself so that he’s above you, leaning on his elbows and his lips close to yours. All it would take is the closing of the few inches between you two to feel his lips on yours again, and it’s very tempting as your eyes flit to his lips and back to his dark brown eyes. 

“Non c'è niente che desidero di più che sentirti nudo, Angel. The warmth of sweet pussy welcoming me as I slide in gently, taking my time as I stretch you with my thick, long cock. I want to feel her soak my entire length as you’re taking inch after inch, after inch. And then, as my cock is so deep in your sweet pussy that there’s nowhere for my cum to go other than inside you, I can feel your walls clenching as she tries to pull me even deeper. That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? To have me fill you up with my cum until it’s leaking out around my cock, and making a mess between our bodies?”

You swallow around a lump in your throat as your pussy pulses from his words, excitement running through your entire body as your nipples pebble, too. His closeness is intoxicating in the best way possible, but you need him even closer. You need him deep inside you for as long as you can, and you’ll never let him go when he’s in. He will be yours, and you will be his. For the end of time, in this lifetime and all the ones after this one.

“Please,” you say softly, your voice low as lust is taking over once more. Your throat is also a little raw from how deep you took him mere moments ago, and your lips are still swollen from the countless stolen kisses. Tony lets out a deep breath before shifting on one arm so he can grab your jaw gently, his thumb running over the edge of it as he tilts your head back.

“Your wish is my command, Angel,” he whispers in a deep tone before leaning down and kissing your neck, a needy moan slipping from your lips as he does and he slips his thumb in your mouth as a response. Your fingers dig into his biceps as he takes his time marking your collarbone and chest, aware to not put them too high as you still need to be able to cover them. One day, you’ll proudly wear his marks without a second thought, but now you still have to be careful. Each mark Tony leaves has you clenching around nothing as his thick thighs are keeping your legs spread, his cock nudging at your entrance with every move he makes. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s nearly driving you insane.

When Tony is finally satisfied with the marks he has left - most of them placed neatly on your chest and breasts - he lets you go, his thumb slipping from your mouth with a loud pop. His cheeks are bright red when he’s done and his heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest as he looks at the marks he’s left, and you’ve rarely been more beautiful to him.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he says before kissing you again, his tongue easily winning the fight for dominance as you give yourself over to him. His hand slides between your bodies before wrapping around his length, a groan leaving his lips as he looks down to where he’s lining himself up.

“Take a deep breath for me, Angel. I promise I’ll go slow, but if it’s too much, you can always tell me, okay?” he asks, and you nod reassuringly, and you smile at him with a content look. After a few more seconds, Tony pushes in for the first time, your eyes going wide at the intrusion of his cock, as it’s very different from his fingers, no matter how much he took his time stretching you earlier.

“How’re you feeling?” he immediately asks, and you take a few deep breaths before answering. While your body is very stiff when he first slides in, you can feel yourself relax under him, and your breathing slows down as well.

“Good, Tony. I promise that I’m feeling good,” you reassure him, and he nods, his own heart rate and breathing slowing down, too. He takes his time to work every last inch of himself into you, constantly checking in and giving countless kisses, too, which helps you relax even further. The feeling of his cock inside you, the stimulation from his veins and the love he’s showing you has you on cloud nine, and you’re happy to have waited for the right man.

“Hmm, fuck- I do- I need you so badly, Angel. I need you so badly,” Tony groans as he bottoms out, his words slurring together as his brain is focused on one thing only: your pussy greedily pulling him in further and further. Your fingernails dig into his shoulder as he bottoms out, a loud moan escaping your lips as your eyes roll back in your head from the pleasure he’s giving you.

“That’s it, taking me so beautifully. You’re taking all of me so well,” he praises you, setting your cheeks on fire once more before you give him the go-ahead to start making you feel good.

“S so soft and warm, I never want to leave your pussy. ‘s pure heaven,” he whispers between slow rolls of his hips, your body working in tandem with his as he presses his forehead against yours, making the moment even more intimate than it already was.

“Un giorno ti sposerò e ti darò tutti i miei bambini, il mio amore,” Tony groans, the thought of you carrying his babies being one he can’t get out of his head as he slowly picks up the pace. It all feels very natural as you’re unsure where one person ends and the other begins, your bodies moving in sync as your highs are quickly building once again. While Tony keeps saying things in Italian – which only adds to your arousal – you can’t stop saying his name like a chant.

“Tony- Tony, please! ‘m close-”

“It’s okay, Angel. Let go for me, cum all over my cock and I’ll give you every last drop of my cum,” Tony pants as the bed creaks loudly, though neither one of you cares about who can hear. Right now, there’s nothing but you and Tony in your little bubble of happiness and pleasure. It only takes a few more thrusts and your nails raking down Tony’s back before you’re falling over the edge, immediately followed by Tony as he works you both through your orgasms.

“Ti amo,” you whisper as you look at him with pure love, and he whispers it right back at you before capturing your lips once more. The rest of the night is spent in each other’s arms as you’re enjoying the post-sex haze together. In the bath, where you’re feeding each other chocolate covered strawberries, or in bed where you’re more than happy to be cuddled to sleep by your boyfriend.

“Thank you for making tonight special, Tony. I’m glad to have you be my first,” you tell him, your fingers gliding over the coarse hair of his chest.

“And I’m glad to have you be my last, Angel. I’m never letting you go,” he tells you, and you agree before falling into a blissful sleep in Tony’s arms.

“How’re you feeling about meeting my parents today, Angel?” Tony asks as he stands behind you to zip up the dress you’ve chosen to wear as today will be your first meeting with Howard and Maria. It’s a blue dress that compliments your skin tone beautifully - courtesy of Tony who picked it out as a present for today - and Tony is wearing a shirt that matches in color, making you smile as you look in the mirror.

“Nervous, but overall excited. After everything you’ve told me about them, I think they’ll be nothing short of amazing. Especially seeing how well they raised you, as you’ve turned out like the perfect gentleman.” Thoughts of last night and how sweet he was with you during your shared first time are still swirling in your mind as you meet his gaze in the mirror, his cheeks flushed as you smile widely.

“I’m excited, too. I have a feeling they’ll love you almost as much as I do.” Without another word he grabs your hairbrush, letting it glide through your soft locks as he’s brushing your hair, getting it ready for you to turn it into a simple but beautiful hairstyle, as you prefer keeping your hair in a ponytail or a bun when possible.

When he’s done, he places the brush down before gently laying his hands on your waist to still be close to you, as he prefers not leaving your side right now. As soon as you’re done, you turn around to pull him into a kiss, your lips moving with his as if they;re made for one another, passion being poured into every passing second. Neither of you can get enough of one another, and if it were up to you, you’d spend another day in bed, but instead you have exciting plans to attend to.

“Let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late,” Tony whispers against your lips, and after a few more pecks you let him go, though you already miss him the second he steps back to head to his parents. The drive to their house is beautiful as the sun is shining and the music is blasting through the speakers, the roof of Tony’s convertible being down means you’re able to soak up even more of this beautiful day. His hand is gently squeezing your thigh as he looks at the road, a content smile on his face. If life is going to be like this from now on, he’s even happier to be spending it with you.

As soon as Tony’s family home comes into view, you let out a soft gasp at the beauty of it, as the rays of sun make it look almost iridescent as they shine on the white exterior. You’re not sure where to look as you’re getting closer, as the garden is also breathtaking, and you’re looking forward to seeing it all. And then, right when Tony parks his car, the two owners of it walk out to greet you both, huge smiles on their faces as they see you two.

“Welcome home, Angel,” Tony says before getting out of the car and rushing over to your side so he can open the door, a quick greeting being exchanged before he opens it. The next few moments go by in a blur, as you’re quickly being pulled into a hug by Maria, her arms tight around you as her floral perfume makes you think of home. Her warmth and happiness make you smile as you say hi to her, and she hums in response.

“Welcome to our home,” she says, her Italian accent shining through as she does. Tony has told you before how the two of them met while Howard was vacationing in Italy, and their summer romance turned into the rest of their lives as she moved to the United States to pursue their love. Now, they’re happily retired and enjoying life together, and you can’t wait to live a similar life with Tony when you’re older.

“È un onore incontrarti, Maria,” you say after she let you go, and her eyes go wide as she hears you speaking Italian. Even if it’s not perfect, she’s still extremely grateful for it, as it shows her that you’ve put some tremendous effort into it before coming here. She gives you a loving smile before grabbing your hands, squeezing them gently.

“The honor is all ours, Tesoro,” she whispers, and when you look at Tony you see he’s looking at you with wide eyes, as he didn’t know you’ve been studying to speak Italian, even if it’s only a few sentences. His heart is about to leap out of his chest from happiness, pride visible on his face as he kisses you on your cheek before whispering an ‘I love you so much,’ in your ear. He learns new things about you every day, and this was certainly one of the best things he has ever experienced with you.

Then, as Tony lets you go in order to get a big hug from his mom, Howard pulls you in for a hug as well, welcoming you to their home as well.

“Thank you for the invite, Mr. Stark-”

“Oh please, you can call me Howard! You’re part of the family, so there’s no need for those formalities!” he says as his hands are on your shoulders, his eyes bright with excitement as he says the word ‘family’. After everything Tony has been through in his past relationships, Howard couldn’t be happier with someone like you by his son’s side, as he wishes nothing but love for him.

“Well, thank you, Howard. I really appreciate the two of you opening up your home to me,” you say, and then it’s finally time to head inside. Their house is like a slice of Italy in New York, which combined with the countless photos of Tony from his baby years all the way to now, makes it feel like home. In the kitchen, Maria was working on preparing lots of little Italian snacks and dishes to enjoy, while Tony and Howard led you to the large garden.

You’re unsure where to look first, as you want to see it all, though that is quickly taken care of when Tony interlaces his fingers with yours in order to show you around. There are countless flowers blooming, making their garden look like paradise as you walk over the footpath. Tony recalls many memories, and when you’re both out of sight, he pulls you close to him.

Without saying another word, he cups your cheeks as his thumbs rub over your cheekbones, sending a shiver down your spine as he looks at you.

“How’re you feeling? Are you enjoying yourself?” His voice is soft and filled with love, and you nod as your cheeks heat under his touch. Last night, something inside you both changed for the better, as you’re even more in love now. Last night you shared one of many firsts together, and it’s only the beginning of the rest of your lives together.

“It’s so fun to be here! Seeing where you grew up and hearing all the stories fill me with so much happiness that it feels like I might burst soon! And your parents are a true delight, as well. You’re very lucky to have grown up with them. I actually see a lot of them in you as well, and it makes you adorable,” you tell him, which makes Tony’s cheeks heat up adorably.

“You are adorable, Angel,” he says before capturing your lips with his, the kiss soft and loving as you both take your time to enjoy the moment. The birds are chirping all around you, and the sun shines down on your both, adding to the warmth of the moment.

“I love you,” you whisper before giving him a last kiss on his cheek and grabbing his hand again, wanting to go back and hear all the stories that Howard and Maria could possibly share about Tony when he grew up. The rest of the day is spent with lots of laughter, many stories of Tony from his childhood and teenage years, and of course the amazing food Maria has made. But then, you get the one question you didn’t expect to hear today,

“So, how did you two enjoy yourselves last night?” The tone with which Maria says it lets you know she knows exactly what has happened between you two, and right on cue, both Tony and yourself turn redder than a tomato. x

That night, after saying goodbye to Howard and Maria, you and Tony drive back in silence as you’re thinking about the day you just had. And it’s official: this is the family you’re happy to marry into one day. They’ve shown you nothing but love today, and you’re even more excited to share your life with him. This day has changed everything, and you’ve never felt more welcome in your life, all thanks to your future father- and mother in law.

[menaiprowrestling]

Italy's 'King of the Short Kings' Alfonse Lombardi remains undefeated for the 8th year in a row, but only just this time. He defeated England's Gary Cotterill with 2 submissions to 1, but it was an extremely close fought fight, which was even declared 'Fight of the week' at that years Wrestlefest. A brutal technical masterclass, these two really beat the shit out of each other. There will definitely be a rematch next year. Will Alfonse's reign finally come to an end?

Irelands Connor Maguire (left) brutally squashed Scotland's Hamish O'Sullivan in a 1 hour pro beatdown of EPIC proportions. O'Sullivan was clearly unprepared for the onslaught that was bestowed on him. Maguire did not let up the entire time, absolutely demolishing his opponent. His cock rock hard throughout the match. This fight was voted 'Squash of the week' that year. Practically the entire audience were jerking off watching this one.

Spain's Guillermo Costa defeated Ireland's Eamon Kane with a camel sleeper KO, after 20 mins. Costa desperately wants a title shot against Alfonse or a Tag match with his lover Aldo (bottom left) against Alfonse and his Lover Matteo (bottom right).

Aldo and Matteo will face off later in the week in a boots only naked chain match.

Colorado Springs 1990 - 2010. Part 3

WRESTLE FEST - BEAR WEEK.

THE SHORT KINGS. Maybe these smaller men, all 5'5" or below have a complex about their height and feel they need to impress the bigger men, because the really tear each other apart in the ring, and are usually the best technical and most vicious wrestlers of every Wrestlefest.

Daddy Bears, Muscle Bears, Cubs, Otters who love to Pro Wrestle, come from around the world for one week every year to beat the shit out of each other. And FUCK.

Some of the wrestlers boast all year in community forums, challenging each other, talking trash how they're going to destroy their opponents, and what they will do to them once they've defeated them. Often the rivalries become so intense that anticipation for some of the matches is at fever pitch, and it's standing room only in the larger cabins where the rings have been set up for the wrestling.

The couples pro tag fights always draw a large crowd too, especially on the Friday night, where the losing tag teams, not only get fucked by the winners, but by anyone else in the audience who paid the additional $100 for a ringside seat. The stakes are high.

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

20 Rituals

Zhongli x Reader / SFW / Established Relationship / Cozy fluff / Mortal Reader

If you had to use one word to describe your lover, it would be meticulous. Zhongli was a man of detail. Whenever the two of you stroll through the shops of Liyue, you often find yourself admiring him as his attention is stolen by an intricate piece of jewelry or a handcrafted ornament.

His meticulous nature didn't just manifest in his spending habits. They extended to his appearance, his lifestyle, his work, and of course in his displays of affection for you.

Whether it was an anniversary, a birthday, or just a weekend date, you could always expect the most heartfelt of rituals from him. You were happy to indulge in his overbearing sweetness. He had always been good with words, but he was even better with actions. Every thoughtful gesture and intentional detail professed his overflowing love for you.

This man was incapable of settling for less, taking things lightly, and overlooking the minute things when it comes to you. It was second nature to him and you could always count on him to notice when something was missing. More times than you could count, he had turned casual dates into candlelit dinners and late night cravings into breakfast in bed.

Each day spent with you was too precious for him to go about without sparing adequate thought. Because your time together was in limited supply, he longed to fill it to the brim with memorable experiences. He makes a deliberate effort to venerate you at every opportunity, that way you would know just how much you mean to him.

You could not leave the house in the winter without him wrapping you up in a thick coat, buttoning it up, tidying your hair, planting a kiss to your forehead, and enveloping you in a warm hug. During the spring, he would make sure you had an umbrella on you in case it rains. In the summer, he would hand you your sunglasses and water bottle as you hurry out the door. In the fall, he would zip up your windbreaker and tie the laces of your boots while you gather your hair in a ponytail so the wind doesn't turn it into a bird's nest. These little rituals are like bite-sized morsels of love that keep you satiated throughout your day. He never leaves you hungry for attention, showering you with it like he has an endless supply.

When it comes time to get a little more elaborate, Zhongli never disappoints either. He always manages to find the most unexpected, overly intricate gifts to surprise you with on special occasions. He's perhaps a little too generous with splurging on you, but that delighted smile on your face easily justifies that chunk of his paycheck he spent.

Rituals were an irrefutable part of your relationship, comprising much of your day-to-day interactions. You couldn't imagine a day without kissing him good morning or cuddling up to him at night. His consistent gestures wove a nest for you, told you in no uncertain terms what you could expect from him for as long as the two of you were together. He adhered to them like unworded promises, contracts sealed with every kiss on your lips.

No matter how simple or complex the ritual, you were eager to participate. Sometimes, you were the one to invent new ones to invite him into and he accepted them without hesitation. To the two of you, it was a comforting dance, back and forth, never-ending.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Augh I loved writing this so much help- I think the new Damsel movie affected me too much 😭 Biggest thanks to @cashmoneyyysstuff for beta reading this she’s a QUEEN Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Light cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, Shinso is a year younger than reader, reader is 20 years old, f!reader, reader's mother is dead, medieval fantasy setting, reader's childhood friend is Kirishima, but you're also close friends with Deku and Ururaka, mentions of perverted actions (not done by a name character though, reader's nickname is Cactus, slight spoilers of the actual show/manga, reader is shorter than Kirishima and Shinso, some mentions of IzuOcha.

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x reader, Izuku Midoriya x Ochako Uraraka

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: A Pot of Stew

Ssssss.... 

The crackle of the fireplace is all you really hear as you flit around through your home, grabbing the big stew pot from the wooden cabinet. The house was quiet, which was surprising, considering you lived with three other people.  

Your father was out with his friend, hoping to catch some fish before the harsh winter would freeze over the lakes. You had sent your brother out earlier to fetch some tomatoes from the market, as the small garden you maintained only produced lettuce, potatoes, onions, and strawberries when they were in season. Hopefully the tomatoes your brother brought back could have seeds that you could save to plant in the spring.  

Your sister was most likely out at Chiyo’s home, the old woman ran the local apothecary was sweet enough to allow the small girl to aid her in crushing herbs and spices to create the medicines that lined her shelves.  

Walking outside, you grab the big bucket by the door, making your way to the home of the Kirishimas, who had a well they let you use to fetch water.  

You mentally groan, knowing that carrying a bucket of water would be a bitch to carry back home. Hopefully you could bug your red-haired friend to aid you in carrying it home if he was around.  

He wasn’t there unfortunately, hooking the bucket to the rope before sending it down to collect water. Once if was full, you pulled the rope that you were holding onto with all your strength, allowing the pulley system to bear most of the weight. 

Deadpanning, you know most of the water that spills out will end on you, sighing in defeat with the resignation that complaining will get you nowhere. You had a family to feed.  

Rolling up the sleeves of your white blouse, you grab the bucket’s handle with both hands, almost dropping it from the sheer weight of it, lamenting the cold sting of the water against your skin as it seeps through your leggings.  

It was almost comical, the way your face was scrunched in concentration as you made your way home, watching your step from the occasional loose pebble so you wouldn’t trip. Your muscles ached, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle, considering how much worse you’d been through when it came to other tasks that required similar feats. It was another perk of being the oldest child, though you were only a year older than your brother, yet you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your family meant the world to you, and you would do everything in your power to protect them. 

Reaching the steps leading up to the door of your home, you set the bucket down finally, your arms practically singing in relief, only for you to pick it up again after turning the doorknob and closing the door shut with your boot-clad foot.  

Making your way to the stew pot that was currently sitting over the fire, you fill it with the water you fetched, letting it boil while you prepared the vegetables you needed.  

Busying yourself with chopping the ingredients you already had, you took the sprigs of cilantro you saved from a few days ago and sliced them so they were thin enough. As you worked your way through the small pile, the door opened to reveal a familiar tuft of purple hair.  

“Hey Toshi!” you call out, waving from the kitchen to signal your presence.  

Your brother takes notice, entering the room and setting the sack of tomatoes on the counter before making his way over to you, ruffling your hair in affection before raising an eyebrow.  

“How much stew are you making?” he asks suspiciously “The four of us aren’t going to be able to eat all of that in time before it tastes bad.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. “You underestimate Eri’s appetite. Plus, Ejiro, Ochako and Izuku are coming over to join us. I’m making enough for each of our families.” 

Hitoshi chuckles in response, walking over to the makeshift pantry you made a few months ago, grabbing a loaf of bread. “Y/N, you would feed the entire village if you could. Actually, you could, but we wouldn’t let you.” he rolls his eyes playfully and you send him a halfhearted glare.  

“It’s called being nice, Mr. Hitoshi Aizawa, a concept foreign to your cold heart.” you say, placing the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically.  

He groans, taking the knife from you to slice the bread, while you move to take the tomatoes. “Ugh stop, you sound like Toshinori.” he gripes, punching your shoulder in annoyance. 

A giggle bursts out of your lips at that, abandoning the tomatoes you were washing in the basket to strike a pose, letting out an “I AM HERE!” in the best Toshinori Yagi impression you could.  

They used to call him All Might, a war hero who was known for bringing your home country countless victories, the wars he entered had casualty numbers so low that you wondered if he was blessed by the gods. Blessed in the past tense though, as after a critical injury in a recent war, he was deemed unable to fight and left the army with an honorable discharge, growing into the old man he was today, running a stand at the marketplace where he sold quality vegetables from his extensive garden. 

You must’ve looked ridiculous as you posed however, because your brother cackles, throwing his head back and smiling so wide his face must’ve hurt. You laugh too, happiness bubbling in your chest from seeing him so happy as well. You chuck an unwashed tomato at him, knowing he’d catch it, and reprimand him.  

“Okay now get back to work you rodent, we’re feeding a group of seven tonight.” you tease, sticking out your tongue and he tosses the tomato back to you, returning to slicing the bread.  

You both spent the next hour or so like that, trading banter and occasionally fighting, but managing to be productive as you finish cutting all your vegetables, throwing them into the stew pot, creating a lovely aroma that makes your stomach growl in hunger.  

You hear a knock at the door, Hitoshi opting to answer it. It was Chiyo, returning Eri home for the day, the girl in question had a bright smile on her face, and a few bottles of unknown liquids in her hands that were sure to join the others in the washroom’s medicine cabinet. 

“Toshi!!” she squeals, and you smile, hearing a small uff! escape the purplenette’s lips, knowing that Eri most likely hugged him around his legs, the only part of him she could really reach at the moment. Sometimes it was infuriating how much taller he was than you. 

Your brother thanks Chiyo, and the old lady leaves with the promise of fresh baked goods during her next visit. 

“Where’s Y/N??” Eri asks excitedly, and you want to snort at her random burst of hyperness.  

“M’over here banana.” you call from where you sat in front of the fireplace, and Eri trudges over with an annoyed look over her face.  

“I told you not to call me that!” she whines, huffing as she sits down next to you, trying to look into the pot to see what you were making.  

“Careful- it’s hot.” You warn, gently pushing her away. “Plus you love bananas!” 

Your little sister makes a face plopping down to lie on the floor with a grumpy expression. “I hate bananas.” she grumbles, stretching her limbs out to take up as much of the floor as she could. 

You quirk up an eyebrow “Are you sure? You sure look like one.” you say gathering her hair once she sits up and holding it high above her head to resemble the elongated shape of a banana fruit. 

She splutters, and you snort releasing her hair, so it falls straight into her face, and returning your attention to the stew, stirring it and taking the wooden spoon you had out, gathering some of the liquid before bringing it to your lips, tasting it briefly.  

“Toshi!” you call from where you sat. “Can you bring me some paprika?”  

You hear a Yeah whatever come from the hallway, and you return your attention back to your sulking sister.  

“Y’know for someone so nice, you’re really mean.” she pouts, and you smile in a half hearted apology, fixing her hair.  

“Eri, my job as your sister, as well as Toshi’s as your brother, is to be mean to you because we love you so much. If we were nice to you all the time, wouldn’t we be boring?” you ask. 

“Hmm... I guess. Is Izuku coming over today?” she asks, laying her head on your lap looking up at you with impossibly huge sparkling red puppy eyes.  

You laugh, flicking her nose lightly. Izuku was her favorite out of your friends, probably because he worked in the markets, for Toshinori no less, and he brought her apples every day. 

“Yes, Izuku’s coming over for dinner tonight, so go wash up and be on your best behavior.” you say warningly, and she nods, jumping up excitedly and rushing to your shared room.  

Hitoshi enters the living room at that moment, sprinkling the paprika into the stew until you told him to stop, stirring lightly before tasting and grinning in satisfaction.  

Handing him the spoon, Hitoshi has a taste of his own, his eyes lighting up as the flavors hit his tastebuds.  

“Damn.” is all he says, and you punch his leg, happy that he likes it, but scolding him for his language.  

“Eri’s in the other room idiot, go change and I’ll get dinner served before they get here.” you order, shooing him out and you grab a damp towel from the kitchen to carry the pot into the room, setting it on the countertop and placing aforementioned towel on top so it stays warm. Putting out the fire in the living room, you open a cabinet, grabbing a large plate and exactly seven bowls and spoons. Setting the dishes around the large wooden dining table, you spoon equal amounts of stew into each of the bowls, the aroma even stronger now, and you give Eri extra because you know she’ll ask you for more later. 

You brought out the wooden carved drinking cups that you had, a gift from your late mother, setting them around the table and filling them with some of the remaining water from the well. Putting the plate in the middle of the table, you set the bread Hitoshi cut from earlier along with some goat cheese gifted to you by Izuku the previous day.  

Wiping your hands on your apron, you sigh, about to call for your siblings before you hear a knock at the door, revealing a smiling Ejiro Kirishima.  

“Hey Eji!” you beam, wrapping your arms around your lifelong friend, who reciprocates the action and spins you around before setting you down, welcoming himself in- he'd been to your home so frequently certain mannerisms weren’t needed anymore.  

“Hey Cactus!” he smiles back, and you roll your eyes at the nickname.  

Ejiro insisted that your kindness was always a facade and that you were a fiery beast that even hell was afraid of in secret, and the redhead had given you the nickname once seeing you scold man around your age for trying to look up Ochako’s skirt. You insisted you weren’t usually like this, but the nickname stuck, a term of endearment used only by your closest friends.  

You smack his forearm, and roll your eyes, still smiling however, leading him to the dining room before calling out for your siblings.    

Eri bounds in, only to be swept up in Ejiro’s arms, giggling as he spins her around to simulate flight.  

He sets her down and she jumps up, “Again, again!” she chants.  

He groans, feigning pain. “But you’re so heavy!” He says, pretending to faint in your direction, and you roll your eyes and push him off, laughing. “I think you got bigger since the last time I saw you.” 

Eri giggles, putting her hands on her hips. “I saw you this morning silly! That was only...” she counts on her fingers. “47 hours ago!”  

You want to laugh, knowing that it was only about 13 hours since she last saw the red haired male, but Ejiro only groans even more.  

“Exactly! You grew so much from then! You might become even taller than your sister.” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.  

Eri giggles, and Hitoshi joins you three in the living room, stealing a piece of cheese from the table and popping it in his mouth.  

"I'm not short!" You grumble, crossing your arms. "You and Hitoshi are just stupidly tall."

You hear another knock on the door, leaving Ejiro and your siblings to their devices as you answer it. Opening the door, you’re met with Izuku, accompanied by Ochako, both giving you a hug as you let them in, exchanging their signature greetings.  

“Hey Cactus!” they both chirp in unison and you snort, ruffling Izuku’s hair and squeezing Ochako’s shoulder.  

“Hey you two!” you say, smiling knowingly. Ever since the two of them became a couple, they were practically joined at the hip.  

You make your way to the dining room, where Ejiro is seen with Eri on his shoulders, the latter playing with former’s hair while he talks to your brother.  

Eri’s eyes light up, practically launching herself off the poor red head- thankfully Izuku catches her, producing another apple from his satchel.  

You groan, knowing that if Eri ate too many she would grow to get sick of them, but you let her be, knowing that she was happy.  

You all sit down to eat, Shinso on one side of you and Eri on the other. Ejiro sat next to your brother and Izuku sat next to Eri with his girlfriend on his other side.  

Catching up with your friends, and eating the food you made, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the empty seat at the head of the table, where your father sat.  

He still hadn’t returned from his fishing trip.  

You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, yet you couldn’t help but worry. Your father, Shota Aizawa sustained a terrible injury in a war a few years ago, forcing him to amputate his own leg in order to prevent the toxins from a poison covered arrow from reaching his neural system. It was the same year your mother had died, leaving you, a grieving ten-year-old you to take care of your father as well as a nine-year-old Hitoshi and a newborn Eri. You were forced to grow up fast in those times, a dark patch for your family, yet it became a big part of who you were today.  

Which included your boundless paranoia, thinking the worst as the time ticked by, with no sight of your father.  

Hitoshi takes notice, sending you a worried glance, opening his mouth to say something before the door swings open. 

It was your father, relief flooding through you before you took in his haggard state. He looks tired, more tired than usual. Your father always looked tired, but never weary.  

His eyes scan the room, frantically looking around, before the settle on you.  

“I have bad news.” 

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