#Liveness and readiness Spring boot

[minkieater]

twin cowboys ⇄ yungi ʚɞ song mingi x f!reader x jeong yunho your sorority chose to spend spring break in nashville this year and you couldn’t wait to finally go out to bars with your sisters. it was your second night out on the broadway strip and the only thing on your mind was having a good time – who are mingi and yunho to stop you?

w. smut 18+ minors dni porn with a lil' plot, dom/sub dynamics wc. ~9k

spring break for you and your sorority was a big deal.

for the last three years you’d traveled with the group of girls to new orleans, new york, las vegas, all places with incredible nightlife and a vast amount of things to do whether you’re of age or not. the older sisters always went to bars and clubs, leaving the underage sisters to their own devices in a new city, but someone always knew someone, there was never a shortage of something to do. 

this is your first year of being able to go out to places you could legally drink at and you were overflowing with excitement at where was chosen in the famous yearly salad bowl draw. every year you and your sisters would sit in the living room, your cutest and comfiest pajamas on and the entire sorority would get a partner and make a powerpoint presentation of where they wanted to travel to for spring break, including everything you could do in that city. at the end of all the presentations, you’d put all the cities in a bowl, and the president of the sorority would choose where you’d go.

this year the name that was drawn was nashville, tennessee. 

the bowl draw was smart, every year you had a complete guide already made up, the only work to be done was figuring out where to stay and getting tickets on the same flight. the vice president always figured out the rest, an unspoken job that was passed down year to year. 

this year you were staying in an adorable airbnb, decorated in pink, little sayings and picturesque opportunities covering the walls. it was massive, it had rooms for each of you, including a living space and a kitchen. if you needed to you didn’t have to leave, the place was enough for an instagram post — perfect for the underage sisters. 

it was your second night going out on the broadway strip and you were still hungover from the night before. you get ready with a redbull in hand, chasing your shots with it, using it to power through the stomachache and energize you for another night of too much alcohol. your sisters felt the same, despite the loud music flowing through the space of the home there was an underlying trudge between the sixteen of you. 

you did your makeup before you could feel the buzz that was flowing through your veins form into a flat out drunk, leaving you to only choose your outfit. you had packed very specifically for the short four days you’d spend in nashville, a leather mini skirt, leather top and of course, leather cowboy boots was already laid out for you as your night two outfit. 

your sisters were dressed the same, tassels and cowboy boots were on everybody in the house, that’s how you dressed for nashville, it was on every woman in the city between the ages of twenty and fifty. you’d all gotten ready in the middle of the day, most of you just waking up from a drunken sleep to shower and do it all over again. 

before you left the house you shoved a couple of crackers down your throat, something to soak up the alcohol so you didn’t throw up high noons all over the pink airbnb when you got home tonight. you’d walked up and down the strip a few times already the night before, checking out every bar on the sloped street that way you had a better idea of where you’d spend your night tonight. 

as you left the airbnb your first stop was kid rock’s honkey tonk, a building consisting of five stories that had a different band playing on each one. you’d made it through all five stories, stopping for a drink at each of the six bars, spending more than enough time in the crowd before the band. 

it was getting later, the sun had far past gone down, you and your sisters decided to go to where you’d spend most of your night tonight. luke bryan’s bar, 32 bridge, was connected to jason aldean’s rooftop bar, two places that you could slip back and forth from by just going to the top floor. the night before you’d loved it there, with country music playing earlier in the night shifting to more typical techno and rap music as you got closer to the nightlife crowd entering the bar. 

you were standing on the stage, the lights glowing a dim, cool blue, a massive crowd beyond the stage. you and three of your sisters were dancing along to a random country song, kicking your feet and swaying your arms in the air as if you were holding a lasso. you paid no mind to the crowd beyond you who was watching, eyeing you up from below. you were having fun with your sisters, all three of you giggling onstage, eyes half lidded in a drunken haze. 

the song ended and you realized your drink was empty, you motioned to the bar to let your sisters know you were going for a refill, leaving you to fight the dense crowd on your own. you stuck to the outskirts, weaving through random people and groups of girls just like you jumping and dancing to the music, trying your best to head straight to the bar. 

you sighed when you noticed the three layered crowd surrounding the entirety of the bar, knowing you’d be waiting here for a while to get close enough to even be noticed by the bartender. this was everywhere, every bar, nothing you hadn’t already experienced in the 36 hours you’d been here. 

“what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” your neck snapped to the corny pick up line coming from a raspy, poor accented voice, having to crane your head upward to see the face the voice was connected to. he was smiling, humor laced in his tone, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the attempt. 

“never heard that one before,” you laughed it off as he tipped his cowboy hat in your direction, obviously putting on a southern front when there was no way this man had ever stepped foot in the south.

“was it convincing?” he kept up with the fake accent and instead of cringing you giggled again, covering your mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding your drink. 

“somewhat,” you shrugged your shoulders, a blush creeping on your cheeks when you really looked at him. dark, black hair if it wasn’t the deepest brown hair you’d ever seen curling around the edges of his cowboy hat, a lean but muscular build, you could see his forearms flex under the folds on his western themed button up as he drank from his beer. deep, inviting dark eyes, full lips and a sloped nose. he was sturdy, definitely your type, tall and husky and strong. 

“i’ll take that as a win, doll,” he smirked, dropping the accent as the corner of his mouth lifted into a lopsided smile, “who are you here with?” 

“my sorority,” you turned to point to the stage, the remaining two of your sisters dancing with one another for the crowd. that was one way to let you keep an eye on them. 

“no way, i’m here with my frat,” his eyes were wide in surprise, “did we all have the same idea for spring break?” 

“seems like it,” you used your hand to refer to the crowd surrounding you, it seemed like there was no one present that was above the age of twenty five. “have you ever been here before?” 

he shook his head, “nah, the president’s birthday was yesterday so we’re here to celebrate him and spring break.” 

you nodded then decided to introduce yourself, wanting so badly to learn the cowboy’s name, encouraging the conversation to keep flowing so he’d stick around for awhile. 

“mingi,” he tipped his hat again with that pitiful accent, “pleasure to meet you, doll.” 

the blush returned to your cheeks, a weak resolve when his pick up lines were not up to par. you finally got up to the bar, a space left open when the person in front of you had gotten their drink, and you waited with elbows on the gloss finished wood for the bartender to come around to you. 

“did you need another beer?” you asked mingi who stood behind you, grateful he hadn’t left. he shook the bottle of beer to feel how much of it was actually left, and gave you a nod. 

he reached into his pocket and passed you his card, “a drink for you and me.” 

“we just met, i can totally get my own drink, don’t worry about it,” you pushed his card back to his chest and his smile returned, showing his lopsided teeth that matched his endearing look. 

“let me show you a little southern hospitality, you can get the next one if you’d like,” he was giggling as he spoke, barely getting the words out because he knew he was keeping the act up for too long, it was too entertaining to stop, plus it seemed like it was actually working. 

the bartender came around quickly without giving you time to respond, you ordered drinks for the both of you while tapping the corner of his card on the bar. the bartender quickly returned with your drinks and you traded them for mingi’s card, waiting for their swift return so you could sign off on the transaction. 

“wanna dance?” he asked as you turned around, handing his beer to him. 

“only if you promise to cut the accent.” he laughed at that and nodded, walking towards the crowd of people. 

he guided you slowly, inching towards the center of people, wanting to get to the more dense area of the crowd. he seemed to have found his friends, waving to three people who were shorter than him, all wearing cowboy hats and western attire themselves. they were all hot, you needed to find out where he went to school.

he turned back to you and started dancing, a sway to his hips matching that of the cowboy boots on his feet, swinging back and forth in front of you, encouraging you to match his rhythm. you agreed, your body naturally reacting to the flow of the music and the movement of his body, bodies quickly getting closer. it was like his hips were magnetic, the way they pulled you closer to him, closing the space between you. 

your chest came up to just before his pecs, your head tilted up to get a view of his face, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. the songs switched, the next one a hit that everyone in the building knew, a famous song across the entire country. 

well i walk into the room, passing out hundred dollar bills…

you squealed in excitement, jumping a little bit because you know this one. you immediately started singing along, taking control of the dance this time, making mingi move to a flow of your own. 

cause i saddle up my horse, and i ride into the city…

his empty hand reached for your hips, keeping you flush to himself, singing along with you as he stared down at you, between you. you sipped your drink as your legs moved between his own, somehow getting even closer, welcoming every huge inch of him pressed to you. 

riding up and down broadway, on my old stud leroy…

an idea popped into your foggy head, a clever one, one you were sure would get the man to finally close the distance. you reached up to his cowboy hat and quickly took it off his head, placing it on your own as the words save a horse, ride a cowboy pumped through the speakers of the club and out of your mouth. 

his sweet smile turned devilish before he moved his lips closer to your ear, “doll, do you even know what you just did?” 

you laughed, your head falling backwards in a drunken haze, eyes fluttering shut as you held his hat tight on your head with your hand. 

you were oblivious to the old saying, the unspoken rule that if you take off a cowboy’s hat, it’s an invitation to take off other things, too.  

his hand tightened around your hip, snapping you out of your giggles and swiftly moved his hand up to your chin, fingers pinching the skin to connect his lips to yours. you allowed it, you welcomed it, your too hot body immediately leaned into his touch. 

your free hand moved up to cup his cheek, moving your lips with his, biting the skin of his bottom lip. he gasped and you used the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth, tangling with his own. your bodies kept swaying, moving, dancing as your tongues tangled, bodies involuntarily moving to the music and to each other. 

your back arched into him, pulling away so you could switch your angle, connecting your lips to his again. it was deepening, too hot to be in the middle of a crowded bar. you heard cheers from behind him that you could only assume were his friends, making you smile into the kiss, inevitably breaking the trance the two of you had subconsciously entered. 

you giggled as you peered around his shoulder at the shorter guys who were cheering and clapping, rooting for their friend in the middle of the dance floor. there was a blush to mingi’s cheeks as he told his friends to shut up, then turned back to bring his lips to your own again in a short peck. 

“ignore them!” he yelled as he pulled back, getting into the groove of dancing along to the next song. 

“it was cute,” you replied, taking his hat off of your head and standing up on your tippy toes to put it back on his head. 

“gotta pee! i’ll be back,” you told him, the seal you had broken an hour ago was on overdrive, now your bathroom breaks were getting closer together. he pulled you flush to him in another of slew of open mouthed kisses before he let you go, sending you off with a quick tap to your ass. 

you maneuvered through the crowd again, much more dense this time before you finally made it to the sparse areas, head turning left and right in search for the bathroom. you spotted it and made it there quickly, resetting your bladder to another countdown before you were off for the crowd again. 

as you left the bathroom in a rush, eager to get back to mingi, you slammed face first into something similar to a brick wall. 

you jumped back a step, apologies flooding out of your lips, craning your neck to look up to the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen looking back down at you. 

“you’re good, don’t worry,” he waved his hand with a tight lipped smile, bringing the same hand up to adjust the hat that was atop his rich, chestnut hair. 

“did i spill your beer? i can get you another one,” you offer, hands wiping at the damp spots in his button down, strong abdomen underneath. it was similar to the one mingi wore, identical to the one his friends’ shirts, your drunk mind was too foggy to notice the correlation. 

he shook his bottle and his lips tightened with his eyebrows raised and a tilt to his head, “i could use another beer, actually.” 

you smiled, grateful he was allowing you to pay back the inconvenience you caused him, quickly guiding him over to the bar again. you got yourself another drink and another beer for him, the crowd around the bar was two layers less compared to your last stop here. 

“thank ya, little lady,” he smiled again, patting your head with his long fingers. you were weak in the knees, he was huge, taller than mingi but more lanky. his arms were thinner, thighs less full yet he also looked so strong… where have all of these men been hiding? 

“we’re even now…?” you asked for his name without asking for it, your sentence trailing along, soliciting the information from him. 

“yunho,” he finished for you, those kind eyes smiling down at you once more. you introduce yourself back with a smile, and he shook your hand much to your surprise. such a mature gesture from a seemingly college boy…it was somehow expected from his character that bled through his features. 

“i wouldn’t say we’re even yet, little lady,” yunho interrupted your train of thought, picking your hand up that was glued to your side, “you owe me a dance and then we’ll be even, scout’s honor.” 

he held up three fingers and you laughed, nodding so he’d put down his damn hand that wasn’t holding onto yours and he led you to the crowd. 

he kept towards the outskirts, only inching you in maybe five layers deep, nowhere near the center. his arm immediately slipped around your waist, knees bending a bit as he did, pulling you flush to him to the flow of music in the air. you giggled, swaying your hips along with his, less build up than you had with the other cowboy yet the destination was just as clear. 

you turned yourself around, pressing your back to him instead and he kept that same arm curled around your waist. you tilted your head, hair falling to one shoulder, leaving the other one bare for him. mingi had started something you were unable to finish, you’d hoped that yunho would pick up right where he left off. 

yunho took a breath, moving his hand to travel along the skin of the slope of your neck to your shoulder, pressing his fingers to the flesh made bare for him. your body’s temperature rose even higher than before, trapping the noise of enjoyment in your lungs. your hips moved in tandem, bodies moving as one to the beat, yunho’s small touches only encouraged the pit that was forming in your stomach. you were getting worked up, beginning to inch toward needing a release, not caring which cowboy you got it from. 

like he could read your mind, yunho bent down and pressed his lips to your shoulder, evoking a sound you couldn’t keep inside this time. your head sank back into his shoulder, your hips stuttering slightly against his, you couldn’t hide what yunho knew you needed right off the mark. 

his lips trailed along the skin of your shoulder, spending time where it met your neck, licking over the sensitive skin there, only encouraging your body to sink further into his own. his hand trailed around your hips, playing with the hem of your skirt, fingertips slipping inside the leather to rub against the skin of your thigh. 

you whipped your body around, overstimulated by the small touches, you needed more. you pressed your lips to his and he moved his hand from your skirt to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. his knee split your legs, slipping a muscled thigh between your own, pressing up against your center. 

once again you were in the crowded mob, doing something not meant for the public eye yet enjoying every second of it — damn near begging for more, for it to go further. you moaned at the contact, finally getting some kind of stimulation where you needed it. your lips moved quickly, rushed, your hand flying to his chest to grip onto the fabric of his shirt. yunho chuckled into the kiss and bounced his leg once, twice before you had to pull your lips off of his, eyes screwed shut. 

“yun!” a voice called from behind you and you wanted to scream in frustration, tell the other person to fuck off so you could keep going, finally finish what had been started. but as you whipped around and your other cowboy stared at you in the face, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly ajar, you knew you were caught red handed. 

a blush crept onto your cheeks, mingi clearly didn't realize it was you that yunho had attached himself to when he yelled his president’s name. you didn’t realize they knew each other. 

“damn, i was gonna ask if you were ready to move to another bar,” his lips pulled into a line but you didn’t see any anger in his big, innocent eyes, “i see that you’re busy.” 

your eyes trailed up and down his figure, thighs thick and full and inviting. you peered up to his lips through your eyelashes, missing their taste, wanting more of him. an idea popped into your head, another one that you didn’t consider the consequences of, thinking with everything but your head. 

you curled your index finger, motioning him towards you as your back sunk into yunho’s chest once more. as mingi came closer, your chin lifted to give mingi your best innocent look, “don’t go, we’re just getting started.” 

you swung your arms around mingi’s shoulders, locking your fingers around your cocktail, hips starting to move along to the song again. the boys followed your lead, neither of them saying a word, only falling into rhythm with you. 

with yunho pressed to your backside and mingi flushed against your front, you felt like you could let go, let your inhibitions run rampant between the two sturdy men who could easily take care of you. you pulled mingi down towards your face with the arms wrapped around his neck, you were met with no resistance as your lips connected once more. 

yunho drank from his beer as he kept his other hand secured on your hip, watching the scene unfold in front of him with darkened eyes. it was hot, watching a girl he just met make out with his best friend while her ass pressed against his cock so deliciously, grinding against him to the beat of the song. he was salivating, his beer washing down the desire he felt from head to toe, fingers gripping harder the longer you kissed. 

yours and mingi’s tongues danced again, fighting for dominance, neither of you unaware of the man that stood right behind you. the slight ache of yunho’s grip on your hip made you whimper into mingi’s mouth, mingi’s own hand lifting up to your waist. his thumb circled at the small space between your top and your skirt, feeling the softness of your skin, the heat that transferred from you to himself. 

you broke away from mingi and glanced behind you, noticing yunho’s lustful stare, his eyes low and clouded. you glanced to his lips and he agreed without a word, leaning forward to catch your awaiting lips with his own. 

mingi huffed at the contact between you and yunho, thumb slipping inside the hem of your top, wanting to keep his hands on you as you kissed his best friend. he pressed himself closer, keeping the growing tent in his jeans away from watchful eyes, suddenly very aware of what the three of you were doing in a packed club. 

“we should go,” mingi’s voice is hoarse as he speaks, “i mean, if you guys want to take this elsewhere.” 

you break away from yunho and nod, scared that the wetness between your legs will start dripping down your thighs if you don’t do something about it. you bring the rest of your drink to your lips, chugging three quarters of it down, the twin cowboys doing the same. you placed your glasses on the bar on your way out, the three of you nearly racing out of the club and back onto the street of broadway. 

“i’m staying at an airbnb a block away,” you decide, leading them in the direction of your place, not giving them the option of going anywhere else. 

as you walked off the busy street the two of them grabbed both of your hands on either side of you, their long legs making you have to walk twice as fast to keep up with them. you arrived quickly, messing up the door code not once but twice in anticipation, giving the code to yunho who punched in the numbers with a cool, calculated head. 

the living room had a few underage sisters still lingering, all who watched you with the two men with eyes that bulged out of their heads, but yet no one said a word. you gave them a small wave and a meek smile before you dragged the boys up the staircase, finally arriving at your bedroom which was a wreck after two days of getting ready. 

mingi hopped on the bed quickly, manspreading with his feet planted on the floor, an invitation for you to sit on his lap. 

“we should talk about this first,” yunho interrupted and both you and mingi simultaneously whined, you stopped in your tracks before hopping on mingi’s lap. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” yunho raised his hands in defense, “but we’ve all been drinking and i want this to be a good experience for all three of us.” 

“i want this,” you interjected with a finger, “i started it.” 

“i also want this,” mingi nodded in agreement, hands readjusting his jeans, “was hoping the night would end this way when i first laid eyes on you, doll.” 

you giggled, your body immediately moving to crawl onto his lap, making yourself comfortable on the spot he just readjusted. 

“hold on, little lady,” yunho came up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “you sure? what do you want from this?” 

your head craned upward to look at yunho who stood over you, the crown of your head touching his chest as he towered over your figure that was spread across mingi’s lap. “i’m sure yunho, i wanna be taken care of, want you, want both of you.” 

you glanced down to mingi with the last part and that lopsided smirk returned to his lips as he leaned forward to finally kiss you. yunho interrupted with fingers wrapped around your throat before mingi got the pleasure, tilting your head upward to look at him once again. he leaned down to kiss you, upside down from his position behind you, and you involuntarily ground your hips into mingi. mingi groaned, his head tipping back, watching you kiss yunho. 

“don’t be afraid to tell us to stop if it gets to be too much, okay? you know the color system?” he says as soon as he breaks away from the kiss, moving his head so you were looking into his eyes that have gotten impossibly darker. you nodded and he let go, letting you stretch your neck side to side before you nearly pounced on mingi. 

you attached your lips to the first cowboy, all teeth and spit and tongue, no time to waste as your hands snuck up to the short tufts of hair that were peeking out of his hat, tugging at it. mingi groaned, his hips bucking into you from beneath you, his hands roaming across your thighs. you ground your hips into him, the bulge in his jeans dragging against your clothed clit just right, working your hips into a rhythm. 

you felt the bed dip beside you, remembering yunho was here too, you reached for him with a weak arm. he ignored your hand completely as he pulled your hair over to one shoulder again, leaving the whole side of your neck open, indulging himself in licking up the faint saltiness of sweat on your skin. you moaned into mingi’s mouth from the contact, the stimulation from his cock grinding up into you and yunho’s hot tongue running along your shoulder. 

you broke away from mingi’s mouth, continuing your assault on his lap while yunho licked up the base of your neck, making your head fall to the side so he could suck on your jaw, left hand coming up behind you to unzip your top. you and mingi filled the room with sweet sounds of pleasure, working yourselves on each other, his hands coming up to guide your hips against him. 

“fuck, mingi,” you cursed, your eyes fluttering shut as your top fell to the sheets, missing the widening of the twins eyes, how mingi’s tongue lolled out of his mouth at the sight. 

you felt the pit in your stomach start to build and fast, but it was ripped away from you even faster as yunho scooped you off of mingi’s lap and threw you on the bed behind him. you whined at the loss of contact, your skirt slipping up to your waist at the movement, nothing but your chest and your lacy black thong visible to the cowboys. 

“my turn,” yunho’s declaration was nasty as he attached his lips to yours again, body completely enveloping yours on top of the sheets that you left in disarray. you moaned into him as his hands fled to your chest, thumbs circling over the hardened peaks, making you arch into his touch, legs wrapping around his torso. 

mingi stripped himself of his hat, shirt and boots before he crawled next to the two of you on the bed, an arm sliding between yours and yunho’s bodies, slipping his fingers into your panties. 

you cried out a fuck into yunho’s mouth, the rest of the house be damned as mingi used his ring finger and began circling your clit. you broke the kiss as your head fell back into the mattress, digging into it, your chest arching up into yunho’s as mingi dipped his finger further down, dragging your slick up and down your folds. 

“so fucking wet,” mingi said under his breath, eyes focused on his own fingertip that was slipping in and out of you, barely breaking the line of his first knuckle. you couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, the only word forming in your head was the continuous chant of more. 

“please put it inside, please don’t tease,” you whined, head turning to plead with mingi, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. yunho kissed down your neck and throat, licking the column, covering the area in his spit and all you could do was moan. 

mingi’s smile turned devilish, not a singular ounce of sympathy in his beautiful face. a rush of something fled through you as the dynamic changed in the room, mingi’s sweet, playful energy turned taunting, “you like it when i play with your pretty pussy, doll? hm?” 

your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his words and his finger that was slowly inching deeper, each stroke of the thick digit went further yet still not giving you its entire length, leaving you unsatisfied and impatient but utterly fucked out. 

yunho chuckled as he leaned backward, unhooking your legs from around his waist. your legs stayed spread around his hips as he sat on his haunches, taking one hand to move your panties to the side, watching as mingi’s finger that was covered in your slick barely moved in and out of your center. yunho had changed too, that cool, clear headed energy he filled the room with had turned dominant and powerful, it sent a shiver up your spine. 

he bit his lip as his eyes lowered in focus, “you were right ming, such a pretty fucking pussy.” 

your back arched again, hips bucking into mingi’s finger that still wasn’t giving you enough stimulation. mingi smiled at you through lowered eyes as you thrashed on the bed, bucking your hips even though it was doing nothing. 

“so antsy, what a needy girl,” mingi tsked, shaking his head as he watched you, fingers still not letting up from their unsatisfactory attempt of pleasuring you. 

“here, little lady,” yunho said as if he’d help while he brought his other hand to your center, thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit, using very little to no pressure. you were gonna lose your fucking mind. 

tears welled up in your eyes as the twin cowboys watched with amusement, enjoying your frustration before you brought your hand down to yunho’s wrist, opting to force more pressure from his hand if he wasn’t going to give it to you willingly. it was the only option left, they were getting a kick out of your misery, out of your begging — it was the wrong move, and it turned you on even more. 

yunho gasped as he pulled his hand away right before you could wrap your little fingers around his wrist, mingi following suit, leaving you empty and without any stimulation at all. you cried out, eyes squeezing shut, hips chasing their hands. 

“what was that?” yunho asked in disbelief while you stayed silent, eyes opening to small crescents, tears spilling from your mascara coated lashes. 

his head turned to mingi who responded, “i think that was the doll trying to fuck herself. seems she doesn’t need us at all.” 

mingi’s tightened lips pulled to the side, a disappointed look on his face when yunho responded, “i think you might be right again, ming. you don’t need us, little lady? you wanna fuck yourself? thought you wanted us to take care of you.” 

his words were taunting, mocking, the inflection of his voice did nothing but make the tears flow faster. they had definitely done this before, there were already too many moments where they read each other, knowing what the other was going to do next for this to be their first threesome, you were the naïve one here. you nodded, bobbing your head with fervor, a silent plea for them to just give in, give you what you needed.

“beg for it,” his words were vile, venom as he spat them off his tongue. a wicked smile followed yunho’s order, his hands sliding to your thighs to your hips to take control of your lower half. 

“need you to take care of me, please,” you were immediate in your plea, looking between the two men who wore sardonic faces, their smiles twisted. “need both of you so bad, want you inside me.” 

mingi leaned forward and wiped your tears from your cheeks, the sympathetic glint in his eye did not match the evil smile planted on his lips, “what’s that you sang to me earlier? save a horse and what?” 

“i think it’s save a horse and ride a cowboy,” yunho finished for mingi, pretending he had to rack his brain for the answer, just stalling for more time to look at your naked body spread out in front of him. 

mingi nodded in remembrance, the scene of you grabbing his hat and placing it on your own head playing out in his mind. he flipped over on the bed to his back, knees bent up as he looked over to you, “well? what are you waiting for?” 

you jumped. you scrambled over to lap, kneeling over him as you unbuckled his belt and he laughed, “so eager, doll. can’t wait, can you? no patience at all?” 

you shook your head, eyes completely glazed over as you unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles. he kicked them off with ease as you took in the size of him, eyes widening and a gasp leaving your lips at the sheer length he’d somehow kept hidden in his jeans. 

mingi chuckled before he turned his attention to yunho, “wait til she sees you.” yunho immediately smiled with a short nod, zeroed in on you spitting onto mingi’s length, spreading it with a manicured hand. 

you couldn’t hear him, too focused on the voice in your head screaming how the hell you were gonna fit him inside of you? you ignored your worry and kept your focus on him, figuring that you could at least try and take him in your mouth before you fit him inside. 

“there you go,” mingi cooed as you bent down to pepper kitten licks across his leaking tip, spreading the saliva that was pooling in your mouth down his length. you finally took what you could in your mouth, tongue massaging against the underside, hands pumping what your mouth couldn’t fit. mingi immediately groaned, his hand flying to tangle in your hair, not pushing your head but leaving the weight of his palm as a reminder that he could. 

yunho undressed himself off to the side, sitting back to watch, hand wrapped around his length as he pumped himself at the scene playing out in front of him. he always lets mingi go first, get the initial stretch out of the way so he could have an easier time slipping inside you. they had a method, the twin cowboys, a routine they’d used every time they found themselves sharing the same bed with a partner. you might have started this, but they fell into pattern the moment they realized where tonight was headed. 

you took mingi down in your throat, gagging around him, eyes filled with tears once more as you took him impossibly further. mingi’s eyes were screwed shut, moans falling from his lips, hips involuntarily bucking up into your throat with his fingers tangled in your hair. 

“so fucking good, doll, keep going,” his words slurred, voice low and hoarse as he tried to open his eyes to steal a peek at you. he failed, the view made the feeling overwhelming, you’re too good, too pretty, he felt a pit in his stomach forming and he could not allow that to happen just yet. his fingers pulled at the roots of your hair and lifted you off of him with a pop, his own mouth hanging open at the sight of your fucked out face. 

he pulled you up to his lips by your hair, kissing you roughly, once again all teeth and tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, reaching for his cock again and he bucked his hips into your grip on him. 

“ride me, need you,” he said into your lips between kisses, that raspy voice sending another wave of heat through your body.

“color?” a voice called from the side of the bed and you called green to the air, not even bothering to look over to the taller cowboy who asked the question, too engrossed in mingi’s slick, angry cock laying across his pelvis.

you swung your leg over his lap, spit onto your palm and gave mingi one last pump of lubrication before you lined yourself up over his length. you caught the taller cowboy in the corner of your eye, his hand was still, squeezing the base of his cock and your mouth went dry from what you saw out of your peripherals. 

“fuck yunho,” your eyebrows furrowed together as you finally looked over at him, another worry slithering up your spine, making you pause in your ministrations, locking up your joints. he was leaned back, chiseled abdomen clenched as he edged himself, head tipped back and knuckles white from the pressure of the squeeze around the base of his cock. he looked so fucking sexy you almost moaned from the view, but the fear remained, mingi was big but yunho was bigger, massive even as his cock curved toward him past his belly button. 

mingi gave you a light slap to your pussy making you gasp before you turned to face him. “eyes on me doll, i’m the one fucking you, not him.”

you nodded and tried to refresh your focus, regain your train of thought, lining him up with your center but you couldn’t relax as you tried to split yourself open on him. muscles locked, joints stiff, even mingi’s delicious length had you a little nervous despite every nerve begging you to sit the fuck down. 

yunho picked up on it, sliding from his spot beside you to slip behind you, planting kisses along on your shoulder and both hands on your hips. you relaxed in his touch, head leaning back on his shoulder, your own shoulders slumping.

“you can do it, little lady,” he encouraged, guiding your hips down onto mingi, “there you go, baby, relax for me, hm?”

you moaned at the stretch and yunho’s words, trying to relax your core, letting your head get a little fuzzy so you didn’t tighten around him and just sank. mingi moaned, a strained, languid noise as he felt you wrap around him, a delicious squeeze as you took him further. 

his hands sat on top of yunho’s as his eyes screwed shut, moaning his words in pleasure as much as he was encouraging, “yes, doll, take this dick.” 

the two men pulled you down further, guiding you, encouraging you to let go. a guttural moan broke out of you as you bottomed out, sitting flush against mingi. he let out a sigh of relief. 

“really thought you panicked after seeing yun,” mingi said with a laugh as you sat for a moment, enduring the stretch, embracing it. 

“i did,” you admitted and you heard a breath of amusement leave yunho's lips behind you. “you guys should’ve warned me!” 

“how were we supposed to warn you? hey i know you want to fuck us but just so you know we have massive cocks? that’s insane, we’d never get laid,” mingi replied and you laughed at that, almost as if he weren’t buried inside of you.

“valid,” you replied and you could feel yunho’s grip on your hips pulling your body upward, telling you to move without actually saying anything. you and mingi both moaned at the friction, you could feel every inch of him inside of you, every vein rubbing against your walls. 

“color?” yunho asked from behind you, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips as he guided you downwards again, keeping a slowed pace.

“green,” your voice was breathless and your eyes screwed shut, brain going fuzzy again knowing that yunho was fucking you onto his best friend’s cock. it made you feel like a doll, a plaything, and it was so fucking hot. 

“yes,” mingi whispered as you picked up speed, bouncing on him now, gaining enough strength of your own instead of relying on yunho’s. you lurched forward and your hands pressed against mingi’s sculpted abdomen, using it as leverage to bounce your hips, to gain a rhythm. 

yunho leaned back, hand wrapping around himself again as he watched you fuck mingi, a beautiful view of the back of you bouncing along his length. 

“so fucking sexy,” yunho’s voice was low and sultry, music to your ears and you moaned in response, eyebrows furrowing, that pit in your stomach growing again. yunho noticed your thighs twitch and your rhythm stagger, he was quick to sit on his knees again, wrapping an arm around your hips to attach his fingers to your clit. 

“yes! yes keep going,” you chanted, using the strength of your thighs instead of learning forward against mingi’s abdomen, giving yunho easier access to rub quick circles on your clit. 

“so fucking good doll, taking me so well,” mingi’s hands ran up your thighs as you bounced, his eyebrows fixed together, jaw dropped in pleasure. 

he was hitting every spot so deep, close to touching your cervix from how far he was inside of you. his hands leaned up and kneaded your tits, massaging your nipples between his fingers, pushing your boobs together, slack jawed from the sight in front of him.

“yes, cum on this cock,” the rasp to his voice was so hot, he felt his own orgasm approaching quickly, he needed you to cum first.

yunho circled your clit impossibly quicker and brought his lips to your neck again and you lost it, creaming around mingi, your bounces becoming erratic as you finished on him with a loud cry. mingi quickly brought his hands back to your hips, fucking you onto him through your orgasm, keeping you at a pace to get him past the finish line. 

“inside,” you mumbled through heavy breaths, “cum inside me baby, please mingi, wanna feel it, wanna be full of you.” 

mingi lost it at that, hips bucking up into you until he lost it, too. he finished inside you with a loud groan, his hips slowing, overstimulating himself until he came to a stop. 

like they had a routine, mingi gave himself a moment to catch his breath as yunho lifted you off his length, mingi pulling his body up the bed until his back was against the headboard. you gasped at their quick movements, you were hoping for at least a minute to recover.

“my turn,” he repeated the same words from earlier as he flipped you, laying you down against mingi’s broad chest, kissing you sweetly as his hands raked over your body. 

“say red if you need to stop, okay?” he looked up to you, eyes staring deep into your own so you knew he was being serious. you nodded and he smiled, kissing you again, taking a minute to get lost in your mouth as his hand traveled to your center that had just been pumped full moments prior. 

he let his fingers slip up and down your folds and you gasped, hips immediately bucking at the contact. 

“too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing mingi’s hands that were laid at your sides. 

“gonna take care of you little lady, don’t worry,” yunho didn’t even look up as he spoke, eyes glazed over as he watched his fingers slip through the flood, the mixture of yours and mingi’s release coating his long digits. 

yunho laid down on the mattress, face centimeters from your center and you panicked. is he doing… what you think he’s about to do? he planted a quick kiss to your clit and your head shot back against mingi’s shoulder, a whine leaving your lips from the quick contact, only getting louder as yunho’s tongue dragged from your overstimulated clit to your full hole. 

he spit on it, getting his own liquids in the mix, a concoction of the three of you that was messily spread onto your pussy. it was hot as much as it was embarrassing, you couldn’t live in the discomfort for any longer than a second as the pleasure overtook it.

“shit,” your moan was dragged out as yunho ate mingi’s cum out of you, you watched him lick, you watched him swallow, you watched as he dug his face farther into you when your hips involuntarily bucked into him. 

he took one of his hands that was pressing your thighs to the side and brought it to your center, circling his middle finger around your entrance, slipping the tip of it inside. 

“not this again,” you whined and yunho chuckled against you, sending vibrations through your entire body before he slipped the entire finger inside. 

you cried out, back arching, nails digging into mingi’s hands as you chanted thankyouthankyouthankyou into the air. he added another finger, scissoring them inside of you, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. 

the pit grew again, that tight band that threatened to snap dangerously quick. yunho kept the pace of his tongue against your clit, a brutal rhythm, one begging you to cum all over his face. 

“go ahead doll, cum,” mingi said in your ear, voice still low and hoarse and strung, it was music to your ears. you let the band snap, hips jerking against yunho’s face but he let you ride it out, let you come down before he came up for air. 

“no one’s ever done that before,” you admitted the second yunho was in earshot, still shocked and slightly embarrassed by what he had just done you began babbling. “well, i’ve never had a threesome before so no one’s really had the opportunity to.” 

both yunho and mingi’s heads snapped to look at one another before they looked back at you. yunho’s eyes were wide as he spoke, “this- we are your first threesome? why didn’t you say that?!” 

“why would i tell you that?” you asked in the same shocked tone, chest still heaving from your orgasm. 

“it’s the same reason we didn’t tell you we were packing,” mingi replied from behind you, chest vibrating into your back, “you were scared we’d say no.” 

“we wouldn’t of said no,” yunho interjected as he sat back up on his haunches, throwing your legs around his hips again as he lined himself up, “we just would’ve been nicer, more gentle.” 

“too late for that, put it in,” you were quick in your response, eyes flying to yunho’s cock, making mingi chuckle beneath you. 

yunho lined himself up before he paused again, making you whine and answer him before he had the chance to speak, “i’m green and impatient, i’ll tell you if it hurts. put it in.” 

he smiled before he pushed himself in, face contorting as he was greeted with resistance, but not enough to make him concerned. your eyebrows twisted, eyes closing at the stretch, still a discomfort after coming twice so far.

mingi let go of your hands and brought one finger to your clit, the other hand tweaking at your nipple, trying to make the pleasure outweigh the discomfort. you moaned, a strangled but sweet noise, the stretch was intoxicating. 

yunho sheathed himself inside of you and groaned, his head falling forward, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“still so fucking tight little lady, gotta open up for me or i’m gonna cum,” his voice was low, his breath labored as you tried your best to relax again. 

“yeah, just like that, there we go,” he noticed the release of your core and began rocking himself into you, small grunts turning into louder moans the faster his thrusts became. 

mingi kept up the pace of his fingers with yunho’s thrusts making the pleasure almost blinding, so overstimulating you felt your head go fuzzy again, tongue lolling out of your mouth, your senses leaving you. 

“perfect little pussy taking me so good,” yunho praised, only sending you further into whatever headspace you’d entered. you didn’t even know what sounds were leaving you as yunho’s thrusts became relentless, fucking into you at a speed that had you seeing stars again, your head falling lifelessly onto mingi’s shoulder. the pit in your stomach returned and you wondered how it was possible for the two of them to make you cum nearly three times in one night. 

“yunho, so fucking big,” you tried to muster but your babbles had become incoherent as you grabbed onto mingi’s forearms, nails clawing at the soft skin, stuck between wanting him to stop and wanting him to rub your clit faster, your orgasm right on the brink of crashing over you again. 

your hips started fucking back onto him and your prayers were answered, your cries ascending to almost screams as your stomach snapped again, so loud the twin cowboys were hoping those girls in the living room had left. 

“fuck yes, cum on this cock. give me another,” yunho ordered, hands wrapping around your hips again, pulling you into him harshly. his brain seemed to have gone elsewhere also, the dominance returning, the powerful energy he’d surrounded the space with earlier. 

“again?” you cried, hands coming up to claw at yunho’s forearms instead, “i can’t!” 

“yes you can, baby, cum again. give me another, wanna feel you cum around me,” he was as mindless as you are, eyes empty as he fucked into you at a dangerous pace. 

mingi’s hand slid up your torso and his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly but just enough, the loss of air causing that pit of pleasure to grow again. yunho smiled, a devilish one while his hand came to circle your clit, tipping you over the edge. 

“yes baby, fuck yes, so good for me,” yunho praised as you came around him, the clench of your pussy only aiding his own release. 

“such a good girl,” mingi cooed, grabbing your hands again, kissing your cheek to soothe your now twitching body. yunho only got out three, four, five more pumps inside you before he was emptying himself, coming down to stilling his movements. 

you caught your breath for a second, pussy still pulsing around him, feeling so utterly spent. yunho pulled out and collapsed beside you, his chest heaving, hands dangling atop his chest. 

“color?” yunho asked, that kind smile on his face as he turned to you. 

“green,” you responded, your voice raspy, “but you can’t fuck me again. i won’t be able to handle cumming again for another, like, three days.” 

the twins both laughed at that, mingi pecking small kisses to your cheek before he asked, “should we shower?” 

the three of you showered, all of you resembling something like zombies as you all shared the same vanilla coconut body wash. you went back downstairs after that for food and water, all dressed in white robes the airbnb provided, and the girls that were in the living room earlier were all still there, faces bright red. 

“wanna watch a movie?” you asked the room, the twin cowboys still behind you, and the girls reluctantly agreed, only receiving shy nods of their heads.  the three of you sat on the massive sectional surrounded by your sisters in their pinkest pajamas, with cozy robes and towels twisted around your heads. you ate popcorn, watched once upon a time in the west, and fell asleep with your limbs entangled, cozied up in the fluffiest blankets with two cowboys that’d go down in history in your sorority’s legendary spring break stories.

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨

pairing: dark!rafe x fem!kook!reader

summary: ❝you’re so art deco, out on the floor. shining like gun metal, cold and unsure.❞ — your attempt to cut things off with rafe only fuels him to come back with a vengeance.

warnings: friends w benefits, rafe is terrible, jealousy, manipulation, arguing at a party, topper kisses you, fighting, rafe ‘breaking’ in your house

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i’m trying to focus on writing less smut but my next few works will be nsfw for sureeee, i hope you enjoy <3 series masterlist

“i have to get going.” you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when rafe started pulling his clothes back on. even though this wasn’t anything new, it didn’t make you feel any better. you watched him, sitting up with the sheets covering your chest. “see you tonight?” he was looping his belt when he sighed. “we’ll see.” he shrugged, not sparing you another glance before leaving you altogether.

your friends would be so disappointed in you right now if you told them that you allowed yourself to go through this again. “you’re so stupid.” you muttered to yourself, quickly making your way to a shower, wanting nothing more than to wash the feeling of him off. you knew rafe would never take you serious, but you liked him so much that if having a no strings attached arrangement was the only way you could have him, you were willing to do just that. you wouldn’t let yourself cry over him, but you did go through the motions each time.

you’d swear you would tell him you didn’t want to do this anymore, but the second he was in your ear, whispering to you all the ways he wanted to take you, you never failed to bend at his will, quite literally. tomorrow would be the first day of spring break, so in your best friend’s fashion, it was only right to throw a complete rager with open invitation. you spent the remainder of your evening getting ready before chloe texted you that she was outside.

“you look insane?! are you serious?” chloe’s jaw hung open as you walked to her car. “this isn’t the y/n i know. what did you do with her?” you laughed, giving your friend a spin. you were wearing a lacey black see through dress, and a matching black set underneath. “good girl is staying in tonight.” you posed as chloe snapped a picture of you. “you look so hot, i love it.” she ushered you into the passenger seat, both of you riding back to her place. “fuck, it’s this packed already?” you got off, the heel of your boots clicking against the cement of her driveway. “just wait till you see inside.” she warned.

sure enough, you were greeted with the sight of at least a hundred people in the living room alone. chloe took your arm with hers, weaving through the crowd of people. you met with some more friends, everyone ogling your outfit since it was a drastic change from what you’d usually wear. “don’t let rafe see you in this.” at the mention of his name, you felt your stomach drop as you looked around towards the kitchen. “has anyone seen him? he’s the last person i want to run into right now.” you accepted the drink one of your friends came back with.

“oh, you don’t have to worry about that, he’s been pretty occupied out on the balcony.” hannah raised her eyebrows, the girls looking at you for your reaction. “occupied?” you took a sip from the red solo cup in your hand. even though you didn’t want to see him, you didn’t want him with anyone else either. “topper and kelce are betting a whole bunch of money on a card game, apparently rafe is too.. just with a random sitting on his lap while he does it.” you licked your lips, nodding your head slowly as chloe watched you carefully.

“that’s cute.” without wasting another second, you started walking upstairs, your friends trailing behind you. chloe’s balcony was connected to the master bedroom, the double doors wide open for anyone to come in and out of. your eyes fell on rafe, the blonde draped across his lap was no one you’ve ever seen before. she was most defintely a touron. you walked outside, the guys so into their game that no one looked up from their cards. “hey.” you smiled sweetly at the girl across from you as you did the last thing you thought you’d do tonight, and sat on topper’s lap.

“well you look really good.” you hit his shoulder playfully, meeting rafe’s heated gaze when he did a double take. “aw, thank you ‘top. you wouldn’t mind if i sat here, would you?” you trailed your fingertips across his chest, a teasing smile gracing your lips as you watched how nervous you made him. “o-of course not, maybe you could be my lucky charm.” he showed you his cards, the giant stack of cash in the middle of the table catching your eye. “who’s winning right now?” even though you asked topper directly, rafe answered. “i am.” your head shot in his direction, his hand running up and down the girls thigh. okay..

“i’m sorry, i’ve never seen you around here, like ever,” you laughed, “do you have a name?” the girl looked embarrassed as you gave her a once over, her body visibly tensing the longer you stared at her. “i’m just going to go get another drink.” she got up, leaving rafe by himself as he shot daggers at you. diverting your gaze back to topper’s cards, you whispered in his ear to put down the ace. “that’s the winning card.” you reassured him, moving your hips slightly as you put the card down yourself, rafe following suit. “whoever has the highest gets the green, baby,” kelce leaned forward as you and rafe flipped your cards over. “fuck yeah!” topper shot up from the couch, holding you against him as you cheered.

“five thousand dollars, all yours ‘top.” kelce’s smile dropped as he glanced over at rafe. “let’s go!” before you could pull away, completing your mission to piss rafe off, topper grabbed a handful of your ass before kissing you roughly. “oh, fuck no,” rafe grabbed topper by his shirt, pushing you out of the way as he landed a punch square in his mouth. you sat there dumbfounded as kelce rushed to break them apart. “i don’t give a fuck about a few thousand dollars, keep your hands to yourself or i’ll fucking kill you!” before you could get up, rafe dragged you away by your arm. “leave her alone!” chloe shoved rafe, who didn’t even budge before taking you outside to the front.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he backed you up against one of the cars, his arms caging you in. “you trying to fuck my friends now? that’s what you want, huh?” you turned your head away from where he was grabbing your chin. “don’t touch me.” you swatted his hand away. “sitting on topper’s lap? what’s your fucking problem?” his knees dug into your thighs, your last band of resistance snapping. “you’re my fucking problem!” you pushed his chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

“you tell me that you don’t want a relationship, but then freak out like this? meanwhile you’re still going around doing whoever you want? i hate this rafe! you don’t even look at me afterwards, how do you think that makes me feel?” he stared at you, his jaw ticking as you kept the tears from falling down your face. “this isn’t about you not being able to commit to someone, this is about you keeping me to yourself and having me around only when it benefits you. i’m done.” you didn’t allow him to respond, chloe jogging up to you just in time.

“you okay?” she pushed your hair out of your face. “can you just take me home please?” your best friend didn’t hesitate, walking you down the driveway before yelling; “get the fuck off of my property, asshole!” making you laugh softly. “fuck him. don’t let him have access to you anymore until he proves to you that he can take you serious. you deserve a million times better than that.” once the car door shut, you let the water works loose. after reassuring chloe that you’ll be okay by yourself, she finally let you off the car, not driving off until she watched you go inside.

your phone started chiming with new messages, all of them from rafe.

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: can we please talk about this?

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: that touron came onto me first, alright? you could ask topper.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: actually, don’t talk to topper at all.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: y/n i know i fucked up alright, please call me. or at least let me go over, let me make this up to you, let me make you feel good..

you scoffed at the last message. that’s all you were to him, a good fuck. nothing more, nothing less. you blocked his number, deciding to call it a night. you would have to be joining your parents tomorrow for the country club’s annual luncheon, which you were sure rafe would be at as well. you spent the rest of the night regretting your decision to get rafe riled up, topper kissed you for crying out loud. you made a vow to yourself, swearing you’d never do anything outlandish to get anyone’s attention, especially rafe’s.

-

“you ignoring me now?” you sucked in a breath, not daring to turn around and face the one man you couldn’t handle to see at the moment. “leave me alone, rafe. seriously.” you walked faster, hoping to reach the main dining room before he yanked you back. “blocking my number and my instagram? i didn’t think you had it in you.” you scoffed, looking up at him as he smiled, shaking his head. “didn’t think i had it in me?” you arched a brow, prying his grip off of your arm.

“come on, y/n,” he looked around, placing a hand on your hip, “we both know no contact isn’t going to work. i’ll show up at your house if i have to.” you didn’t doubt his words for one second, but the fact that he felt this comfortable dismissing your feelings was enough for you to realize what you had to do; tear down his ego. “and why wouldn’t it work? because you wouldn’t have anyone to run to when your daddy makes you cry?” rafe visibly recoiled, his hand moving as if touching you burned him.

“what the fuck did you just say?” his eyes narrowing down at you. “you heard me. it seems like you forgot we were best friends before we started having sex,” you laughed bitterly, “what happened? lost respect for me or something?” not being able to be in his presence for one more second, you left and met your parents at their table. for the rest of the luncheon, you could feel rafe’s gaze piercing through your skin. you knew you struck a chord, but it was all true.

“me and your father will be going to the mainland for the next few days for business, will you be joining us?” your mother’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. “chloe’s only here for a week before she goes back to uni so i’m gonna stay.” she nodded. “alright, i’ll have the driver take you home then, and sweetie,” she leaned in close, “you might want to see what that cameron boy wants, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you sat down.” you glanced up, your stomach dropping at the sight of him. “it’s complicated.” you whispered, you and your mother getting up to leave.

the ride back was quick, your parents letting you know they’ll call you when they get off the ferry. you were about to walk inside before you noticed the door cracked open. what the hell? you turned around to see if your parents were still there, but the car was already gone. you tried to brush it off, going in cautiously. it was still early in the day, the sun still shining brightly overhead. you made your way to the security system, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you saw it had already been reset. “that’s impossible..” you whispered, jumping when you heard a clash come from upstairs.

you stood frozen, debating if you should run out or go check for yourself. the last thing you wanted to do was call the cops and it wasn’t anything to worry about. you cursed to yourself, slowly making your way upstairs. “is someone here?” you called out, opening the room doors and looking them over. obviously you expected no one to answer, but you still felt relieved when you saw that nothing was out of place. that was until you got to your room, where one side of your bed looked like someone had been laying in it.

you ran your hand over the sheets, the soft material still warm. “i told you i was gonna show up to your house if i had to.” your head shot up to your bathroom, rafe leaning against the doorframe. “what are you doing?” your heart was beating in your ears, his gaze making you feel powerless in this situation. “i’ve been a dick to you, i’ll admit that. i’ll apologize for that. i’m sorry, y/n, i really am,” he started moving towards you, “and you know what? you’re right. it is about me wanting to keep you to myself.” rafe a took a seat in front of you. “i want to work on this. i want us to work together, we could really make this a good thing.” you didn’t know you were crying until rafe wiped the tear from your eye.

“you’re lying to me.” you shook your head, pushing his hand away. a flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face. “i wouldn’t lie to you about this. i’m not as cold and unsure as you think i am.” his hands rested on your thighs. “i can’t even put into words how bad i wanted to hurt topper last night when i saw you sitting on him, and when he grabbed you and kissed you? i wouldn’t have stopped punching him if kelce didn’t get in the middle.” you listened, eventually relaxing under his touch. “i will do everything i have to do to prove to you i’m serious about this. about us.” he started moving closer, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“what do you say, baby?” you swallowed, sitting in thought for a moment. this was all you ever wanted from rafe. the sincerity, the reciprocation. “you promise?” your voice was shaky, his eyes softening as he pulled you against his chest. “you have my fucking word.” he whispered against your skin, his hand running up and down your back. you smiled, pressing a kiss to his adam’s apple. slowly, he brought his hands up to your shoulders, his fingers running through your hair before you felt him gripping your neck. “as much as i want to take you slow, i have to punish you for saying what you did at the countryclub.” your eyes fluttered shut as rafe laid you down, his knee wedging itself between your thighs.

“say it again.” his hand was still wrapped around your neck as you looked up at him with tear clad eyes. “rafe..” he smiled, the action that usually has your heart melting, now had a shiver running down your spine. “say it.” rafe said through gritted teeth. you shuddered, ultimately giving in. “i told you, you wouldn’t have anyone to run to if your dad made you cry again,” saying it to him after you resolved things just felt cruel now. “and that was very insensitive of me, i’m sorry.” rafe shushed you. “it’s alright.. i’m gonna make you regret opening your mouth at all.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

seasons of you (year 1 - spring)

Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance

word count: 5.4k

a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.

For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.

“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”

At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.

He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.

“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.

After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.

It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.

Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.

Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.

One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.

From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.

But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.

“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.

Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.

“You alright?!”

The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.

Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.

You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.

“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.

“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.

“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.

He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.

“What happened!?” He barks confused.

Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.

“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.

Joel sighs angrily.

“Come on.”

Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.

“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.

“I’m fine.” You snap back.

“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.

Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.

It’s larger than your grandpa's.

Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.

So you let your eyes wander.

Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.

Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.

After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.

“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.

You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.

“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”

You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.

“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.

“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.

“Not all the time.” He replies.

You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.

He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.

“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”

Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.

“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.

“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.

You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.

Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.

“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.

A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.

“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”

“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.

“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.

“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.

You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.

“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”

There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.

“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.

“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”

You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.

“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”

Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.

“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.

This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.

“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.

Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”

You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.

“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.

Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.

“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.

“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”

You snort at that.

“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.

Joel chuckles.

It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.

“Alright, all fixed up.”

The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.

“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.

“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.

“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.

This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.

Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.

“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.

“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”

He hums a noise of acknowledgment.

Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.

“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.

He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.

Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.

“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.

Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.

“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.

It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.

“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.

“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.

Joel nods and with that you head out.

You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.

But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.

You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.

When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.

- ☼ -

Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.

His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.

You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.

Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.

Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.

Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.

Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?

Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.

You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.

By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.

Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.

The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.

You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.

The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.

A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.

Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.

You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.

“Where y’heading?”

You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.

When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.

Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.

“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.

“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.

Alone with Joel Miller once again.

The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.

Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.

“No new crops coming in?”

“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”

“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.

“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.

“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.

You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.

“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”

You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.

A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.

You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.

“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.

“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”

“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.

Kid.

“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.

Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.

“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”

A daughter. He’s a dad.

It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.

“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.

“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”

So he’s an empty nester.

Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.

Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.

“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.

“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.

Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.

“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”

“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.

“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.

You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.

“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”

The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.

You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”

“Takes after me.” Joel nods.

“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.

“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”

A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.

“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.

Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.

“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.

There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.

Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.

“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.

You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.

Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.

“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.

Maria yells out Joel’s name again.

“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.

The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.

But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.

Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.

Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.

“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.

“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.

Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.

“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”

You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.

“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.

Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.

Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.

Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.

Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.

So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.

Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.

- ☼ -

The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.

The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.

“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.

He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.

Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.

With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.

“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.

Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.

“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.

“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.

He’s Joel’s brother.

“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.

You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.

“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”

Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.

You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”

A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.

“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.

Yet his eyes remained glued on you.

You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.

“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.

Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.

Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.

“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”

Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.

Shit.

You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.

Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.

Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.

At least this will be over soon.

The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.

His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.

“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.

Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.

“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”

Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.

Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.

He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.

For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.

“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.

“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.

Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.

Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.

“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.

“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.

“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.

He continues walking alongside you.

Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.

“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.

“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.

“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.

You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.

“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.

Joel however rolls his eyes.

“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.

It sounds like a promise.

You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.

“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”

He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.

Joel is walking you home.

And he called you sprout.

You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.

Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he’s trying to keep you focused.

To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.

Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.

Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.

He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.

“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.

Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.

It feels different seeing him here.

Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.

Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.

“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”

Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.

“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.

“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.

When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.

However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.

So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.

“Wait how will I know you made it back?”

Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.

A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.

“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.

You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.

A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.

Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.

You wish so badly to wave back.

Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.

Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.

Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.

Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.

Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.

Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.

[hugshughes]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

𝐎𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟, 𝐘/𝐧 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐮𝐦, 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞!

𝐰𝐜 - 1.4𝐤 (𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐡𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟!)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 - 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝! 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 (𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲!), 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - 𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐝𝐝 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @alwaysclassyeagle (𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!)

-

real life! december 10th, 2023. 8:23pm EST.

"I'm gonna fucking throw up. I can't do it."

You earned a slap on the back of the head after the loud proclamation. You turned to your best friend with wide eyes, rubbing the spot she made contact with.

"No you're not. And yes you can! Everyone's gonna go ballistic, they miss you babe!"

You stared down at your phone, gazing at the text messages between you and your manager, she'd just given you the go ahead to post the announcement for your new album.

In reality, you knew they did miss you, but you were so nervous. Your new album was so special to you, and you wanted it to be recieved well. Every song was so complex and unique to you. It was the first album you would release since the worst breakup of your life. After you'd finally broken up with Mat, all you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and not talk to anyone for a year. Honestly, that's kind of what you did.

"I know. I just want everyone to love it like I do."

"They will, I promise. Everyone's gonna freak! Now, I have an idea."

"What?"

"After you post, we leave our phones down here and while we go get ready, and go to that bar you love!"

You smiled, that sounded fun. You opened Instagram, sliding to create a post. After choosing the photo of the new album cover, you typed out a caption.

"Okay, we can do that! That'll take my mind off of this. Now I just need to post, shit, I'm nervous."

You looked over and your best friend just smiled and nodding towards your phone. You sighed, biting your lip before hitting the post button. You refreshed your profile to make sure it posted before shutting your phone off, dropping it next to you on the couch.

Your best friend jumped up, grabbing your hands and pulling you to stand.

"Let's go, sweetheart. We're gonna go get you happy and tipsy."

You followed her upstairs and into your bedroom, standing at the door of your closet while she grabbed outfits to offer you. You let her dress you up like a little doll. She put you in a little black dress with a white bow under the bust. She added black boots and your outfit was complete. You both fixed up your hair and makeup before putting together your going out bags.

Once you were downstairs all you did was throw your phone into your little purse, not caring to check any of the notifications you were receiving. You climbed into her Black SUV before she pulled out of your driveway, starting to the city. You lived in a few different places, having two homes and an apartment in three different cities. Currently, you were staying in your house in New York, in a more suburban and residential area farther from the city.

You also had a house in Palm Springs and an apartment in Seattle, since that's where lots of your family currently was. The drive to the bar was about 40 minutes, all spent singing and dancing with your phone connected to CarPlay. You guys parked in a large parking garage before heading down the street into the bar. You walked quickly to get away from the cold, shivering beneath your large leather jacket.

The bar was always less crowded than most, since it was higher end, and you knew some of the staff. Your face lit up as you saw your favorite bartender wiping down glasses as you sat at the bar.

"Hi lady!"

Her head snapped up, a smile gracing her face while she greeted you.

"Aw hi! Oh my gosh, girl. I saw your announcement! You don't know how excited I am!"

Your heart warmed. This being the first reaction you heard to your announcement was definitely sweet.

"Stop, thank you so much! I've definitely been really nervous about it. I haven't even checked my phone since I posted it."

"Well you are going crazy viral, everyone is freaking out!"

You best friend gave you a knowing look, she had told you so. You blushed, thinking about your fans loving the new album. You got your drinks and went to sit at an empty booth in the back of the bar, a Cosmopolitan and a lemonade, since your best friend was designated driver. There were only a couple other groups here, around 10 other people.

After a bit, you two took a trip to the restroom. You took your jacket off while you best friend took photos of you in the mirror to post later.

After around two hours, you exited the bar, the time nearing midnight. You were astounded when you saw flashes of light blinding you as you began the walk to the garage. Paparazzi. Thankfully, you were in New York, and knew the guys.

"Oh, hi guys! What's up?"

"Hey Y/n! What's up with us? What's up with you?! Everyone saw the announcement earlier tonight! Personally, I can't wait!"

You smile brightly, New York paparazzi weren't like Los Angeles paparazzi. These were the guys you knew through Taylor, they were respectful and not pushy.

"Thank you so much! I'm so excited! I literally have not looked at my notifications since posting it, I was too nervous!"

"Can you tell us what the album's gonna be about? Maybe a little insight?"

"Well, the songs are all pretty different from each other, honestly. Some are more personal than others. But the genre of music isn't too steady through on this album, I jumped around a bit!“

They nodded, laughing along with you. You answered a few more questions and took a few more pictures before they let you go. You felt happiness settle into your stomach when you got comfortable in the car.

It wasn't until after you got home, and got ready for bed that you started looking through your new notifications. Many texts from friends congratulating you, news that you were trending on Twitter, and that you post had 6 million likes in five hours.

Your manager had also texted you that sometime soon you should post the back cover, especially since the first post was so well received.

First you posted the photo from the bar to your story before going to post the back cover, some how more nervous than before. The back cover had the track list on it, it would reveal the whole album. Scary.

"Just post it! I'm not going through this with you again."

Your best friend gave you a look, one that heavily reminded you of her mother, with a hand on her hip before she climbed into your bed next to you. You nodded, sighing as you hit the post button.

The two of you laid close and talked quietly, giggling and shushing each other like little girls scared their moms were going to come in and tell them to go to sleep.

Eventually you did fall asleep, the do not disturb setting stopping your phone from buzzing off the table.

-

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25 minutes ago

[sunsetchicane]

cowboy like me [LN4]

lando x fem!reader

word count: 8.2k

summary: The one where you work on a ranch and it’s everything you know. There’s nothing that can come between you and your love for your home. Not even a handsome stranger who seems to pull the best out of you.

warnings: slight angst, some fluff, horses!, brief sexual innuendo, a singular swear word, and one [sad] kiss.

author’s note: hey! hi! hello! this is my first fic on here (omgggg 🤭) so please, please, please let me know your thoughts/comments/questions! might write a second part to this…thoughts??[xoxo elle]

~~~

Buxton Ranch has been in the Buxton family before Montana even became an official Union state in 1889. Land wasn’t simply a commodity or property back then; it was life or death. William T. Buxton and his wife, Mary Anne, put their boots down on this land along with their four children and they’ve never left. They fought their way over the mountains, survived the unbearable, and have reaped the benefits of their resilience for over a century and a half.

Willamina T. Buxton I, my boss, is the great-something granddaughter of William T. Buxton I. Her father, William T. Buxton VII handed over the ranch to her on her 30th birthday a few years back. The controversy caused ripples through the entire community because even though Willamina is Mr. Buxton’s first born, the ranch has always been handed down to the eldest son. Willa is the first woman to ever have ownership of the ranch.

My family hasn’t been in Montana nearly as long as the Buxtons. My mom and I moved out here in the spring the year I was born. My father skipped out before my mom could even hold herself upright in her hospital bed after laboring with me. She tells me that we came here to Montana for a fresh start, and what better place to go than where the sky is bigger and the air is pure. The mountains became our safe haven, our buffer from the rest of the world and, more importantly, our history. It’s easy to forget up here, to allow your mind to rest. I’ve never been at a loss for why the Buxtons came and never left. Sometimes, in the dark of my room, I pretend that I really am a Buxton, that I truly belong.

However, when the sun breaks across the mountain peaks and the world comes alive once again, I’m forced to realize that I don’t belong to the Buxton dynasty. I simply work for them.

My alarm blares to my right, causing me to shoot upright. With fumbling fingers, I seek for the power button of my alarm clock. When I finally find it and shut off the hellish noise, I fling my legs over the side of my bed. With the heels of my hands, I rub the sleep from my eyes. The world around me is painted in a deep blue, still fast asleep and undisturbed by my alarm. I envy it as I rise from my bed and get ready for the day.

Silently, I pull on my bootcut Wranglers and a light green long sleeved button down. My belt and beat up old boots complete the ensemble for the moment being. My next stop is the bathroom where I brush my teeth and comb my hair. Tying my hair off into a low braid so it’ll sit right under my hat takes only a couple minutes. I’ve been wearing my hair the same way to work every day for the past seven years.

Once I’m done in the bathroom, I make my way to the kitchen where a pot of coffee is automatically brewing on schedule. I toss a few eggs into a pan as well as two pieces of bread into the toaster. The breakfast of champions and me every single day. After crushing a cup of coffee and my plain breakfast, it’s time to head out. Instead of living on-site with the rest of the ranch hands, I still live with my mom. I’ve been wanting to move out to the ranch for over a year now since I finished college, but the possibility of breaking my mom’s heart stops me from even mentioning it to her.

Glancing at the clock, I know I have plenty of time to spare, but I start to pack up and head out the door anyway. I enjoy being early to the ranch. It’s peaceful and serene before it wakes and rises. Grabbing my work jacket because the winter’s just turning over to spring, my chaps, and my lunch sack, I head out the door. My mom and I share an old, sunburnt orange Chevy truck that just barely runs. I toss my things into the bed of the pickup before sliding into the worn out driver’s seat. As I slide the key into the ignition, I send up a quick prayer that she turns over. When I press the key forward, the engine roars to life. Prayers have been answered this morning and I hope it’s a good omen for the rest of the day.

The drive to Buxton Ranch is short and sweet, all dirt roads and drifting grassy fields. The radio sounds quietly and the engine hums loudly, but everything else is completely still. A distant light orange is just starting to brush the very edges of the horizon in the east. Nature is starting to reach out and stretch its sleepy limbs.

As I pull up to the place where I always park near a stretch of fence, I see a figure dressed in shadows leaning over the wood a few yards away. Once I’ve tossed the pickup into park and yanked out the keys, I jump down from my seat so I can walk over to her. She’s always out here before everyone. Sometimes I see her, most times I don’t. When I do, it feels like fate, like there’s something about today that’s meant to happen this way. Or maybe it’s just Willamina Buxton.

“Good morning, y/n,” she rasps without glancing over at me. Crossing my arms, I lean over the log fence and take in the view. I don’t think there’s a better view in all of Montana than that from Buxton Ranch.

“Good morning, Willa,” I answer quietly. Her brother, Wyatt, was my best friend growing up. She’s only 12 years older than the two of us, but somehow she seems infinitely older and wiser. She’s been a role model for me. We grew closer after Wyatt left for college a few years back. Of course he came back in the summers to visit, but he never stayed long. He wasn’t born for this life. Instead of horses, he dealt with horse power. He always wanted to become an engineer for Formula One. When the opportunity came to go overseas to study in England and intern at McLaren, he hadn’t even thought twice. One day he was here, and the next he was gone.

I struggled with feeling abandoned for a while, but I came to terms with it quickly. I realized that dreams were meant to be chased and he was incredibly fortunate to get this opportunity. I was also chasing my dream, I just had to go down the street instead of across an ocean. We keep in touch, calling frequently and texting nearly every day, but it’s not the same. I miss him.

“Heard from Wyatt recently?” Willa says quietly then takes a sip from her mug of iron black coffee.

“Not in a couple of days. Seems busy,” I mumble. Wyatt’s leaving is a bit of a sore spot for Willa. She wanted him to stay on the ranch and in the family business. Her asking about him is a bit of an anomaly.

She hums, then pauses, then sighs. “Lots to do today. We better get going.”

And just like that the work day starts.

I tend to the horses right away, leading them out into the corral so I can wash out their stalls from over the weekend. I give each of them fresh hay and fill up large troughs of water for the more temperamental ones. Then I lead them one at a time back into their stalls and give them a thorough once over to check how they’re doing.

The last one I have to put away is the youngest of the group. He came to us only last year, unbroke and wild as the river. He’s a black Morgan stallion, sleek and athletic. He’s larger than your typical Morgan, with rippling muscle, and a proud face. He’s beautiful. We call him Jupe.

“Jupe,” I coo kindly to the untamed stallion. “Come on, Jupe.”

He casts a look over his back at me telling me everything I need to know. Sighing, I toss myself over the fence and into the corral. With my palms raised up and in front of me, I show him the leather lead in my hand as I walk over to him slowly.

“Come on, Jupe, we gotta go back inside. I cleaned up real nice for you, boy. Fresh hay, new water, you’re living the five star life, buddy,” I say while creeping up on him. He doesn’t move, but simply tracks my movements with his black eyes. Nerves claw at my stomach as I approach him. Reaching out slowly, I praise him and repeat his name over and over. Finally, I slide the clip of the lead around a loop in his bridle. But there’s no relief yet. I still have to get him into the stables without incident.

“Good boy, Jupe,” I say, reaching out gently to stroke his nose. He pushes at my hand playfully. A surge of pride washes over me. Maybe the two of us are finally making progress. Jupe lets me lead him out of the corral and back to his stall with ease. Today really is my day.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the stallion as I slide the lock shut on his door. Jupe’s head hangs over the short door, his head coming down to level with mine. Patting him gently, I pull a couple sugar cubes from my pack. I hold them up to him on my flat palm and he slurps them up gratefully. A smile that I can do nothing to stop breaks across my face. I’m gonna saddle him up one day. And maybe that day is sooner than I’d anticipated.

“Only you would give that stubborn Morgan a treat,” I hear a familiar voice say. I whip around in disbelief as the tone and inflexion registers in my mind.

“Then again, maybe the two of you have bonded over your mutual stubbornness.” Wyatt hardly gets the words out before I’m taking his arm in mine and wrapping him up in a hug with the other. We laugh as we sway side to side. My hat careens to the side of my head as I hug him and I know I must be getting him all sweaty and dirty, but I can’t find it in myself to care about vanity at the moment. Wyatt’s back.

“Surprise!” He says when I finally let go of him. He’s wearing a bright smile as I pull back. Wyatt reaches up and straightens out my hat for me.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming!” I say while smacking the back of my hand against his shoulder. “I would’ve gotten off work and…”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” he laughs as I slide past him to finish up sweeping this side of the stables.

“You’re right,” I laugh along with him while I sweep. He knows that I love my job too much to step away from it. I hate missing a day and he knows that.

Wyatt takes a seat on a stack of unused hay bales that I’ll have to load back up. He chats with me about school and England and McLaren. I don’t know much about Formula One, just what I picked up on from Wyatt constantly chatting my ear off about it. Most of the stuff that Wyatt has told me, however, goes way over my head. What I do know is that this boy is an engineering genius and McLaren is lucky to have him now as a full-time employee. They offered him a job straight out of university. He’ll be living full time in the UK. My stomach twists at the thought.

“So, what do you have going on for the rest of the day?” Wyatt asks after I’ve finished sweeping. I place my hands on top of the broom and lean my chin over my fingers.

“Riley and I were going to take down that rickety south fence and…” I start to say while mentally checking my to-do list.

“Sandy’s helping Riley with that,” Wyatt says matter-of-factly. I cast him a questioning look to which he simply blinks at.

“Alright. Then I have to go to the cattle and check on all of the pregnant…”

“Louise has that covered,” Wyatt informs me while picking at his nails. What is he getting at?

“Why…well, then I have to…” I begin, trying to move away from things that he could possibly know of.

“Go riding with me and my friends!” Wyatt exclaims while hopping off the hay bales and clapping his hands together. “Wonderful idea.”

My jaw drops. There’s no way that he’s trying to make me skip the rest of the day to go riding. Not after we just had a conversation over the fact that I would never do that. That I could never do that. I have an obligation to be here, to get things done.

“Wy, you know I’d love to, but I’ve got work to do,” I say firmly while walking over to hang up my broom. Jupe huffs and brays at Wyatt as he walks briskly over to me.

“No you don’t. I made sure of it,” Wyatt says while grabbing my hands so I have no choice but to stand in front of him. “Willa’s told me to inform you that if you’re found working this afternoon, there’ll be severe consequences.”

At that, I know I have to oblige with Wyatt’s request. If Willa gave the all clear, there’s no reason for me to try and argue. One thing about the Buxtons is they’re nearly as strong-willed as the horses they hold. Not to mention it would be incredibly rude of me to not accept Willa’s generosity. This doesn’t stop me from letting Wyatt know exactly how I feel about him pulling me away from my work. I do so in colorful language the entire walk over to the house.

“You don’t even want to go riding with me, you just want me to be your guide,” I feign an accusation as we approach a small crowd of people on the large front deck of the Buxtons glorious ranch home. I see a few ranch hands and two other men that I don’t know, who must be Wyatt’s friends.

“You are the best guide out here.” His backhanded compliment earns him an eye roll. As we approach the house, he tells me to wait for a second while he calls over his friends. Their heads turn quickly to the two of us when Wyatt calls to them. They say hasty goodbyes to the staff they were chatting with before walking over to Wyatt and I. One is tall and pale, with pale eyes, and pale hair. His cheeks are flushed a slight pink from the chill that still hangs in the spring air. He looks lively and excited, his eyes bouncing around from one thing to another at lightning speed.

The other man is shorter with cropped, dark, curly hair. His hazel eyes are sharp and brilliant against his tanned skin. As he draws nearer, I can tell that he’s very physically fit. He’s wearing a tight long sleeve shirt that hugs his arms, brand new boot cut jeans, and a shiny pair of boots that have obviously never been worn. His eyes, unlike his friend, don’t wander while he walks over to us; they stay trained on me. A small smile falls across his pretty pink lips as he finds me watching him swagger his way over. He’s attractive.

“Never seen a British boy in cowboy boots before,” I say when they stop in front of us, glancing down at the brunette's footwear. When my eyes flick up to his, he still hasn’t stopped looking at me. Clearing my throat, I extend a hand to the blonde.

“Hi, y/n,” I introduce myself while shaking his hand.

“Mitchel,” he says, his accent is sharp and acutely German, which takes me by surprise. I nod, casting him a warm smile. I watch as Mitchel’s eyes flick to Wyatt over my shoulder. Following suit, I catch Wy smiling like a fool and a slight blush that I don’t think has anything to do with the weather coating his cheeks. When he sees me looking at him, he quickly crosses his arms and looks away. My smile widens. Mitchel drops my hand and then stuffs his back into his pockets.

“Y/n,” I say to Wyatt’s other friend who has a bit of a staring problem. He takes my hand in his slowly.

“Lando Norris,” He says crisply, his accent confirming my previous assessment. “Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

His name catches in my mind, as if I’ve heard it before but I can’t place it. Wyatt must have mentioned him at some point, but for the life of me I can’t remember what about. A moment passes and our hands stay held together in the space between us as I try to place him. My eyes scan over his face and catalog his freckles and scars and the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles. When it dawns on me that I’m now the one with a staring problem, I swiftly pull my hand from his. Briefly, his jaw clenches.

“Finally, huh?” I take his previous statement and run with it. Turning my back to Lando, I glance over at Wyatt. “Just what have you been saying about me?”

“All good things, all good things,” Wy assures me while coming up to clasp me on the shoulder. He leans into me with a big smile that makes my stomach churn at the thought of what he’s actually told his friends. What does Lando think of me? Why does it matter what Lando thinks of me?

“Well,” I say quickly, trying to shake the thought of Lando from my head. “I suppose we should get going if we want to be back by sundown.”

The three boys nod their heads in agreement. The four of us walk over to the stables. Wyatt and Mitchel walk slowly behind me as they chit chat and laugh. Casting a glance over my shoulder at them, I watch as their shoulders bump together and their fingers brush intentionally. I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling. Wyatt’s alway had a hard time with romance and partnership just because of where we grew up and the hate he received for simply being himself. Seeing him this way, happy and smitten, makes me feel proud. It affirms that his leaving was necessary in so many ways.

“How long have you been working here?” Lando’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. My attention slides over to him. He’s come up to my left, his hands folded behind his back. His eyes are wide and curious as he looks at me. I can’t help but feel like I’m being analyzed.

“Seven years. But I’ve been on the ranch all my life. I took riding lessons from Willa and then became fast friends with Wyatt,” I tell him while pulling my eyes from his. Returning his gaze seems difficult, so I keep my eyes trained on the stable. He hums in acknowledgement of my response. I can feel his eyes on me still.

“Do you work at McLaren with Wyatt?” I ask my new acquaintance. He chuckles to himself a little, his pretty eyes squinting from his large smile.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he says, making me feel like I’m missing something. I scoff at his vague response, but don’t press the issue. If he wanted to explain himself, he would. His aura is interesting. He seems so sure of himself, completely at ease with who he is. It’s captivating.

We make it to the entrance of the stable and I instruct Lando and Mitchel to take a seat while Wyatt and I saddle up the horses. It takes us a while to get everyone ready for the trail ride, but with every passing minute, the more excited I get. Wyatt and I used to go out on the trails all the time. During the summer as teenagers, we would stuff our packs full of camping supplies and go for days at a time. Those memories are my most cherished possessions, things that I will never forget. Now whenever I take others up there, I feel as though I’m bearing a part of my soul to them.

Once we’re done getting everything ready, Wyatt leads his and Mitchel’s horses, Rudy and Molly, outside with Mitchel in tow. This leaves me alone with Lando. My stomach twists nervously when I feel his presence looming to my right.

“Ever ridden before?” I ask while petting Luna, a beautiful sorrel tovero paint. She’s older, but strong and steady, a good horse for a beginner.

“Yeah, loads,” Lando says while joining me in stroking Luna. I cast him a critical glance. If he sees it, he ignores me. Rolling my eyes, I really can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. It’s important to know what you’re doing while working with large animals. I make the mental note to keep him in my line of sight at all times while riding.

“Oh, good. Then you’ll be good to lead Ms. Luna out? She’s yours for the day,” I tell him while handing over the reins. I watch his adam's apple bob and his eyebrows lift slightly before nodding and accepting the reins from my hand. When his fingers brush over mine, goosebumps run across my arm. Quickly, I pull my hand away and turn towards Beau, my stallion for today. Fiddling aimlessly with his bridle, I wait until the steps of Luna and Lando have disappeared before releasing a breath. Leaning my forehead against Beau’s neck, I sigh at my stupid behavior. Am I really so touch starved that I get goosebumps at my finger brushing against his? That’s sad.

I take Beau’s reins in my hand and start leading him out to the waiting pack of boys. Just as I’m about to exit the stables, I look over at Jupe. He’s looking at me like he knows exactly what’s going on in my mind.

“Don’t give me attitude,” I tell him.

He just blinks at me.

Beau and I join everyone. Wyatt’s running Mitchel through the basics while Lando watches on. He’s pretending to not be listening by petting Luna and quietly talking to her, but I still catch the way he glances over when Wy demonstrates something. I walk around and do a quick double check on everyone’s gear before returning to Beau’s side. With the ease of muscle memory that I don’t think I’ll ever lose, I toss myself up and onto the saddle. Wyatt assists Mitchel into his saddle before climbing into his own. Lando glances over at me before sliding his foot into the stirrup and attempting to pull himself up. He looks out of his depth and slightly awkward as he hauls himself onto the saddle seat. Biting back a laugh, I click my tongue and squeeze my legs a little to get Beau to move for me. The two of us saunter up next to Lando. His easy continence is long gone, replaced by nerves and uncertainty. His hands shake as he grabs onto the reins incorrectly.

“Here, like this,” I correct while reaching out to his hands. My fingers pry his anxious fists open and fix where he’s holding the leather cord. I’m surprised to find calluses littering his palms, a mirror of my own. I maneuver his palm to rest in the right way so he doesn’t agitate Luna. I can feel Lando watching me as I touch and hold his hands. I’ve done this a hundred times when teaching lessons, but this is the first time that I feel an uncomfortable blush creeping onto my cheeks. Lando’s presence has me off axis, spinning out of my routine. I’ve known him for maybe an hour and he’s already getting under my skin.

“Just trust Luna, she knows the way,” I say quietly as I pull away from him. He bites at his lip but nods along with my words. Smiling as warmly as I can, I leave his side to ride up to Wyatt. However, I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder at him. He’s not looking at me, thankfully. Instead, his eyes are trained on his hands as he flexes them on the reins the way I showed him. His focus is endearing, almost cute.

But when his eyes rise to find mine, I snap my head forward in hopes that he didn’t catch me staring at him. The last thing I need is to develop some sort of childish crush on a stranger that I’ll never see again after a few days. I just have to keep my head down and my thoughts off of him.

“Time’s wasting!” Wyatt calls to me, letting me know that everyone is ready to go. Nodding, I take the lead while Wyatt falls to the back. We keep Mitchel and Lando between us so they don’t get caught straying off the path.

Going out for a ride is one of my favorite things. I love going into the mountains, walking along the thin paths, and enjoying the earth. As we go, I hear Mitchel and Wyatt quietly chatting at the back of the pack. However, once we get to the treeline, their voices fall away from my earshot. My senses are overcome by our surroundings. The budding trees are gorgeous as they filter the sunlight into sultry beams that fall onto the new grass along the sides of the gravel path.

“Beautiful,” I hear Lando speak for the first time since we left. I’ve been distracted thankfully, leaving me free from his effect on me. Now, though, I find myself turning to the side to look at him as he comes up next to me. I’m surprised to find him staring at me instead of the lively forest that hems us in. A thought that he might be making a comment about me instead of the scenery flashes through my mind. Quickly, I shove the absurd thought away and chalk it up to wishful thinking.

“It is,” I agree, giving him a small smile. He chuckles a little before turning to look around him. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of him. Somehow he adds to the already perfect scene around me. His hair is being ruffled by the slight, cool breeze, which also lends his skin a gorgeous pink flush. Bright hazel eyes track the swishing branches and fluttering wildlife. His muscles are on display as he engages them to ride Luna. He looks less stiff than he did earlier, as if he’s finding himself at ease here. The idea makes me giddy. I find myself agreeing with Lando’s previous assessment. Beautiful.

“See something you like, cowgirl?” Lando laughs when he catches me staring at him yet again. My eyes go wide and my mouth parts as I scramble for a proper response, a defense, anything. There’s just something about him that makes it nearly impossible to look away. I think I’d like to be able to see him a lot more.

“Cowgirl?” Is all I can come up with. It’s not an inaccurate title, but the way he said it made it sound different. It was tacked onto his question almost like an endearment, or a tease. I laugh a little at his choice of words and the way it sounds in his accent.

“I see a lot of things I like, cowboy. You’ll have to be more specific,” I challenge. This successfully pulls a proper laugh from him. It’s the type of laugh that sends birds flying frantically from their perches and the creatures hidden in the grass scurrying away. It’s impossible to not laugh along with him. My heart flutters and I have to hold on tighter to my reins so I don’t fall off the saddle.

“I may be a lot of things, but I am no cowboy,” he corrects. I nod while continuing to laugh.

“I could have told you that,” I confirm while adjusting my hat.

“Oh really?” Lando says, urging me to explain myself. He tilts his head to the side while his mouth pulls into a closed lipped smile.

“If the brand new jeans and boots didn’t give you away, then you’re riding definitely does. You ride stiff as a board,” I inform him while glancing down at his boots and jeans. His denim clad thighs are tight around Luna’s middle, tense muscles visible through the fabric.

“Alright, teach me then,” he says, his free hand coming to rest on his hip. “Cowgirl.”

I roll my eyes at his words once again, but am resolved to help him nonetheless. There’s nothing like going out and being able to ride properly. I want to ask him why he lied to me about his experience with riding, but I don’t want to bruise his ego any further. Trying something new is challenging enough, and if he’s willing to learn, then I don’t want to jeopardize that.

“Keep sitting up straight, but relax your body. Your hips should shift back and forth in the seat a little. Don’t fight what feels natural. Just watch me,” I tell him. His eyes slide slowly from my face down to my hips. I watch as his eyes track my hips back and forth just slightly with Beau’s steps. Lando’s breathing goes uneven and his bottom lip disappears between his teeth. He’s staring at me like there’s nothing else he’d ever want to look at. It makes my heart race and nerves flutter in my stomach. I hadn’t really thought about the more sensual implications of having him watch my hips, but it seems rather obvious now. However, I don’t really mind the way he’s looking at me, or the way his focus is completely attuned to me. Selfishly, I really wish he wouldn’t look at anything else ever again. But that can’t happen.

“Eyes up, cowboy,” I tell him after a few more seconds of letting him watch. “Go ahead.”

Clearing his throat, he shifts a little in the saddle before settling in to do what I asked. I don’t miss the way he avoids looking me in the eye, as if he’s embarrassed. Have I flustered him? The thought makes me just a tiny bit proud. He doesn’t seem like the type to be flustered easily. He sits up straight and attempts to relax his body. His lower half starts to shift the right way, looking more natural and less jerky than before. Indulging myself, I watch for a few more seconds. I bite the inside of my cheek as he rocks back and forth in the saddle. My mind goes wandering to places that I shouldn’t be thinking about with a man I’ve only known for a day. Less than a day. And yet, I can’t stop myself.

“Maybe we’ll make a real cowboy out of you yet, Lando Norris,” I tell him after I’ve noticed improvements. His focus fractures and he looks over to me.

“I think I’d like that,” He shoots back, a sly smile accompanying his words. The look twists my stomach into nervous knots. There’s something about him, something intangible, that draws you in. Maybe it’s charm or charisma, or maybe it’s just the way he was made. Whatever the circumstances or reasons are, it’s not fair. I feel as though I have hardly a fighting chance to ward off any sort of desire that’s bubbling to the surface. I want to keep getting to know him; I want to teach him anything he asks; I want to never let go of the way he makes me feel.

The walk back to the ranch grounds is much faster than I would have liked. Lando chats with me the entire way back about this and that. He’s smart and funny and my chances of not having a crush on him grow slimmer with every passing minute I spend with him. When we get back to the stables, I find myself taking much longer than I normally would to put everything away. Mitchel and Wyatt decided that a fire would be the best way to end the night, so they ran out to get it started while Lando and I finished up with the horses. He tried his best to help, but kept getting distracted by visiting all of the stalls.

“Who’s this?” Lando says as I finish putting away the last saddle. I say a quick goodbye to Beau before heading down to the last stall near the open barn doors. Lando is standing in front of Jupe’s stall, his arms crossed over his chest. I stop next to him, leaving an appropriate amount of space between us, even though I want to come up right next to him and press my shoulder to his.

“This is Jupe. He’s our newest. Bit ornery, but a good boy,” I say while reaching my hand out to pat Jupe’s head. He brays at my touch, but doesn’t pull away. I give him a quick kiss on the nose and coddle him a little. Positive reinforcement does wonders.

“My turn,” Lando says from behind me. Astounded, I turn my face toward him. He’s insinuating that he wants me to kiss him. My brain short circuits at the thought. He’s just standing there with his arms still crossed over his chest and a stupid smile playing across his handsome face. I scoff at his joke, trying not to let on how much it affected me.

“Careful what you wish for, you might end up with a stall of your own,” I jab back. However, keeping him here doesn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“Being praised, kissed, and ridden by you? Sounds like these guys are living the dream,” Lando says. My jaw hangs loose as his words hit me like a freight train. Shock courses through me, leaving me beyond speechless. Is he being serious? Who says things like that? I blink at him, unsure of how to continue. I can’t lie and say that the images that popped into my head when he spoke were entirely unpleasant. If he’s being serious, there’s a lot to consider here. I could deny my feelings and spare myself the heartache. Or the alternative, which is letting my emotions get the better of me. This would mean that in a few days after spending time together, I would have to deal with heartbreak and come to terms with the fact that I’ll maybe never see him again. Or maybe I could, if there’s something really here. Maybe I have to give into hope for once. There’s never really been anyone who I’ve put ahead of my goals or dreams. I’ve never been tempted to stray from my path by anyone. Sure, I’ve gone out with guys, had a boyfriend for a while. But if something didn’t line up, I made cuts so my life would fit together how I needed it to. Suddenly now, as I stand here in this stable with a man I met only hours ago, I’m finding myself bending my rules for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my whole life.

“Alright, cowboy,” I say while taking a tentative step toward him, I’m ready to play this little game of his. His hands have fallen to his side, so I gently slide my fingers into his. Shining eyes lock onto mine. His tan skin is set aglow by the dying sunrise, highlighting the ridges and curves of his face. I want to memorize every freckle, every line, every corner of him. I’m lost in the way his hand feels around mine and in the way he’s looking at me, and I don’t ever want to find my way out. One of his fingers comes to the front of my hat and pushes the brim up. He draws closer now, his face mere inches from mine. His jaw flexes and his large neck muscles twitch with tension as he dips his head down just enough for his lips to hover over mine.

“We have a fire to get to,” I finish my earlier thought in a whisper. With hooded eyes, I look into his wide ones. Smiling smally, I step away from him. Adjusting my hat back to its original place, I begin walking out the door. Lando is hauled after me with my hand still grasped in his. Giddiness takes me over as I walk hand in hand with him towards the fire pit near the house. My small smile breaks into a much larger one as I pick up my pace, breaking into a jog. Lando’s hand clasps around mine tighter as he adjusts to the new pace. A laugh bubbles from my chest as I bring my free hand to hold onto my hat as I run harder. A sense of carefreeness has corrupted my usual serious disposition. Rarely do I feel as free as I do now. Lando’s lightness has infected me, and I can’t help but fall in love with how it’s buoyed my spirits. It feels like the first hit of a drug; it’s the type of high I’ll be chasing for the rest of my life.

As we approach the house, I can hear Wyatt’s laugh ring out from around the corner to the back. Just as we’re about to turn that last corner, Lando’s arms reach around my waist, stopping me from moving another inch. His chest hits my back with no small amount of force, tossing my hat from my head. I’m bent over in his arms as both of our laughs pull the last threads of air from our tired lungs. He hauls us both upright and my head falls back against his shoulder. I suck in a deep breath of the cool, dusk air. It cools me from the inside out. A feeling stirs deep in my stomach as I stare up into the sky while basking in the feeling of Lando’s arms wrapped around me.

Belonging.

It’s something I’ve been chasing my whole life; a sense of knowing where I belong and who I am. And now I feel as though I’ve finally found it: a home; a place to belong; a knowledge of exactly who I am.

Once we’ve regulated our breathing, I break out of his arms. Leaving them isn’t what I want, and as I pull away, I immediately feel much colder. However, we have to accompany Wyatt and Mitchel before they grow suspicious. Carefully, I pick up my hat, but don’t place it back on my head.

“Are you coming?” I ask quickly, tossing a glance to Lando over my shoulder. He shakes his head with a smile, but follows me around the corner without a word. Wyatt’s eyes find us over the roaring fire he’s built. Mitchel is seated right next to him on a log, a thick blanket spread over their laps. Between the warmth of the fire, the blanket, and the present company, I know that the nighttime chill won’t be able to touch me. As I approach Wyatt, he reaches to the side to pick up another blanket with a couple beers and s’mores supplies stacked on top. I accept it with a quick thank you before plopping down on the log next to them. Lando saunters after me, slowly taking a seat to my right.

“Hold this?” I ask while placing the blanket onto his lap. Gently, I set my hat down behind me, then reach over my shoulder to grab the end of my braid. I pull the elastic from the end and go about undoing the braid.

“So, Lando, how was the ride for you?” Wy asks as he brings his beer to his lips. My eyes are on the fire as he speaks, my mind slipping out of focus for a brief moment while I concentrate on my hair. But I’m aware of the fact that Lando doesn’t answer. When I turn to look at him, I find his eyes already on me, following my fingers as they finish pulling out my braid. I run my fingers through my roots to shake out the nasty hat hair that I undoubtedly have.

“Lando?” Wyatt laughs.

“What?” Lando says as he snaps out of his dazed state. His eyes go wide as they shift over to Wyatt who’s chuckling to himself. A goofy smile breaks across Lando’s face as Wyatt restates his question.

“I think I might have to switch professions,” Lando says, his eyes flicking down to me. The fire is lighting his skin with a warm glow. The flames flash lazily in his glossy eyes.

“I think it would be best for you to stick with McLaren,” I joke while cracking both of our cold beers. With a small smile, I hand over one of the bottles to a slightly offended Lando. Laughing to myself, I nudge his shoulder and click the neck of my beer to his. The liquid is cold and fresh against my lips, sending the perfect chill cascading down into my neck and chest.

“Yeah, mate, I think it’s best if you stay in the cockpit rather than the saddle,” Mitchel adds. “Play to your strengths and all that.”

The cockpit? As in the cockpit of a Formula One car? The realization hits me with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Lando Norris; I recognized his name earlier because Wyatt works as an engineer for a driver named Lando Norris. A Formula One driver named Lando Norris. With wide eyes, I stare forward into the fire. Every possibility that I’ve just dreamt up has suddenly become nothing but a fantasy. My body tenses as it physically revolts against my idiocy and naivety. Reality settles into my bones and I have to chide myself for being so stupid to ignore it for as long as I have. Not only did I ignore it, but I created a work of fiction where maybe we could end up together.

“Shit,” I hear Lando breathe next to me. His face is one I don’t recognize, one of seriousness. For the few hours that I’ve known him, which feel more like years, I haven’t seen him lose that little spark that makes him so him. Now it’s nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want me to know that he was a professional driver, one of the most elite in the whole world. It stings because I don’t understand exactly what his intentions were and it allowed me the space to concoct some seriously messed up notions. There’s no way that anything could happen between us now. It’s hard enough to maintain a friendship of years over an ocean with an engineer; imagine trying to hold together a relationship with a driver across continents and seas that constantly change. However, I can’t justify being angry with him. It is his life to be in the public eye constantly. If he came out here to not be recognized for a while and to be treated like just a normal guy, then who am I to deny him that. I just wish he would have given me the opportunity to do that with knowing who he really is. Now I’m stuck with feelings that I know won’t go away in a hurry and thorough embarrassment.

The rest of the night passes monotonously. Wyatt and Mitchel are wrapped up into their own little world, so they hardly notice the ever eroding gap that suddenly formed between Lando and I. We chat a little, but it’s not the same anymore. Roasting marshmallows has suddenly become my new favorite thing because it gives me an excuse to not look at him. I know that if I do, I’ll start to adore his curly hair and the scar over the bridge of his nose and the way that he looks right into your soul with his pretty eyes. I know that if I dare to look at him, I’ll start to believe in fiction once again. That’s not something I can allow; I won’t be the person who falls in love with the idea of something they can never have.

I won’t be the person that falls for someone they can never have.

Wyatt and Mitchel bid us goodnight before walking hand in hand into the house. Envy flares in my chest, jealousy turning my heart an ugly shade of green. The crackling of the dying fire and the rustling of wind through the grass and trees are the only things that greet my ears. Usually, I would be incredibly fond of this quietness. But now, it simply feels like a life sentence of silence. And once again, as the world turns to night, I feel the loneliness creep in at the edges. The night chill has crept into my fingers and toes, slowly creeping inward.

“I’m sorry,” Lando’s voice is gravelly from lack of use. “I should have…”

“You should have,” I agree. My voice isn’t harsh or condescending, it’s soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I understand, though. I just wish I had known before…”

My voice trails off and gets blown away with the smoke that floats lazily into the atmosphere. Clouds have collected across the sky, cutting the stars from our view. With a melancholy heart, I can’t help but admit how fitting that is. I suppose we really weren’t written in the stars. We are the opposite of destined.

Lando’s hand wraps around my cold fingers, but instead of warming me, it burns. The kiss he leaves on my knuckles feels as though my hand was dipped into the embers of a fire. Blinking back the prick in my eyes from impending tears, I watch his face fall into a frown. I hate the way his eyebrows are creased in the middle and the concern that’s painfully evident in his stubborn eyes. It’s not the look I wanted from him tonight. It’s not the face that’s become my brand new favorite. It’s not Lando.

“How long are you staying for?” I find myself asking. I have to know how long I’ll have to endure his presence. But what’s worse: having him here and knowing I can’t have him, or watching him leave and knowing that I’ll never have him?

“We leave on Monday,” he says. Just for the weekend then. I’ll only have to see him on Monday and then I’ll be free of him. I know he’ll torment me in my sleep, when I see someone walking down the street who looks a little like him, when I look at Luna. I’ll never truly escape him.

“Alright,” I mumble. A beat passes without any more conversation. Then Lando’s hand is slipping under my hair and around the side of my neck. My head turns toward him, his touch unprompted and sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.

“I’m sorry, but I have to know. Just once and then we can put it away forever. Alright?” He’s closing that gap between us, both physically and emotionally. His face slows as it hovers in front of mine. My breathing has ceased and fear has seized my heart. Is this the right thing to do? Or will it make it worse?

“Alright,” I find myself agreeing without thinking. Maybe I have to know, too, if this is everything I think it is; if this really is everything that I’m losing.

His kiss is light at first, lips just barely brushing mine. It’s soft and gentle as he uses his hand to bring my face closer to his. When his lips are fully on mine, my mind bursts into stars and streams of color. He kisses me with quiet passion, slow and strong. That belonging that I felt when he had his arms around me flares back to life in my chest. His fingers flex under my jaw, holding onto me tighter like he’s scared I’ll slip out of his grip. Which I am. When we break away from our first and last kiss, I feel as we filter through each other’s fingertips. We’re lost now, never to be found.

A crack in my chest sends me to my feet. Tears suddenly blur my vision.

“Goodbye, Lando,” I find myself saying, my words taking every bit of strength I have left. As I turn away from him for the last time, I find myself wishing I'd have said no to his kiss. As I walk away from him for the last time, I know now that I’m losing the one real thing I’ve ever known.

The truth is he isn’t a cowboy like me.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎBodies Are Not the Only Things Buried౨ৎ꣑ৎ

꣑ৎ"Even if it is full of love, all a ghost can do is haunt."꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: mentions of death/dying, angst pairing: ghost!billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: tagging @kellielovesmovies <3 and @these-travels <3 because we talked about doing more ghost billy!! Enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

"Have you ever seen the ocean?"

Billy turned his head to look at you, and his breath would have hitched if he had any left. The sunlight reflecting off your skin gave you a glow that was nearly angelic, and for a moment he was sure the higher powers had come for him after all. You blinked, nuzzling your head into the crook of your elbow where it lay, and he wished it was his arm there instead. Holding his girl. The way it should be.

He shook his head, shifting on his side. "When my family crossed to get here I did. But I don't remember much. Was a long time ago."

Your lips puckered just slightly, and he longed to touch his own to them. "I've always wanted to see it but I've never been."

Imagining you in the backdrop of ocean spray, sand sticking to your soaked feet, Billy smiled. "You'd fit right in."

With a giggle like bells, you looked back at the sky, your ever-present smile soft as spring's first rain. The grass framed you perfectly, making a soft bed that Billy didn't deem near good enough. Once again he tried to will his body solid. There was no need for a beating heart or blood siphoning through his veins. He only wanted to hold you.

Death made life feel like a distant memory. The more time Billy spent with you, the more painfully clear the difference between existing and living became. Consciousness was a curse, carried out by the remnants of him left like a half-eaten dinner. Maybe somebody had forgotten to take the final step and bring him wherever those he had known in life were. Or maybe they were lingering too, in different pockets of time's fabric. He had certainly never come across anyone like this.

Maybe you had been the only one who bothered to see. Or care. Either way, he had been revealed to you, the veil separating life and death lifting for a quick second so he could escape. And you were there to see it.

You spent a great deal of time at the cemetery, keeping him company. Often you would lie on the grass with a book and read to him, the passages you picked from between hundreds of pages only enhancing the complexity of your beauty.

It was natural he would fall in love with you. In the beginning he had felt it coming, a universal fact already set in motion. It was almost cruel, and he wondered if perhaps his forced haunting hadn't been a mistake at all. He could be atoning for every sin committed in life in some new method of torture where he was made to think himself joyful.

It was delicate, his dormant love a cobweb formed over decades of starvation. An emotional ache he had resigned to live with for the rest of time. If he had known death was this impermanent, he never would have wished for it.

You rotated on your side to face him, eyes reminding him of daisies. Young and fresh and lovely, innocence shining through your new bloom. Billy's attention was immediately piqued, ready to absorb whatever you had to say, even if it was a single word.

"Have you ever left this place?" He smiled when you asked, wholly enraptured.

Sitting up, Billy leaned against his headstone. Unmarked, unnamed, only the year he died carved crudely into the rounded shape. It made a good resting spot for you some days, though, and he was happy some facet of him was able to do so. "Not for a long time."

"Why not?" you asked, propping yourself up next to him, chin on the heels of your palms. The image of you was so painfully adorable that he had to pause before speaking.

"I dunno," he shrugged, looking at his boots. "It seems odd, but I've never thought of it."

"Never?" You tilted your head.

"I've never had a reason." He half-smiled. "You're the first person I've talked to in a century, sweetheart."

Something softened in your eyes at the term of endearment, and he was now making plans to call you it over and over just to see that look. "You never had wanderlust?"

Billy moved his hand so it was flat on the ground next to yours, pinkies nearly touching. "I wandered so much when I was alive, it must've just burnt out."

Somehow, he couldn't read the look on your face, as though your thoughts at the moment were in another language. He wished more than ever right now that he could draw you into his arms, maybe rest a hand at the crown of your head. There were so many things he desired, and you were at the center of each one as he orbited hopelessly.

He'd never had a sweetheart before. Through every misdeed and trial thrown under his feet and scratching his arms like thorns, he'd never found anybody. Further, he never expressed the desire, not out loud.

Love was always considered a luxury. He'd observed it plainly with his mother and father, witnessed the lengths it traveled and the way it grew to fit the space of new circumstances. But his parents had been good people, trying to make an honest living. He never thought love was meant for men like him.

But without survival on the line, what else was there to think of? There wasn't anything else to exist for, especially when the woman in question was you.

Without physical feelings, Billy ran on pure emotion. It was an energy of its own that replaced what his blood must have done. For so long it had been justified sorrow, but now it was something else. Something he didn't even want to think of because it was so out of the question.

He was a ghost. You were alive. Nothing more needed to be said.

Stretching your arms with a little hum, you shut your eyes and let your hair fall to the side, over your shoulder. He watched it cascade like a waterfall, wishing for the millionth time he could brush it from your eyes. "You know, you could travel if you wanted to. See everything you want to." Opening your eyes, you smiled at him with a little glimmer that lifted his spirits. "You could see the ocean and remember it better this time."

Billy wouldn't tell you what he was thinking. That the only way that desire would enter him is if he could do it with you. See that adorable look of astonishment when you tasted salt water for the first time.

He didn't let his thoughts go any further than that. Instead of saying it, he smiled. "You'll have to see it for me, darlin'."

You looked up at him, resting your cheek on the cool stone of his headstone. If he imagined it right, your ear was on his heart instead of a monument to his death. His girl. In his dreams you were his girl.

Months since you'd first seen him, when he'd expected you to be frightened but instead you were kind. Ghost or outlaw, it seemed any time he was given was to be spent unconventionally. Based on your reaction, it was easy to imagine you in the context of his time. Maybe you never would have judged him the way everyone else did.

A shock of warmth coursed through his spectral being when you simply said, "Your time didn't end when you died."

It echoed, bouncing off the cemetery gates long after you left for the night.

Everything except Billy's existence was glaringly temporary.

He had long accepted the fact that his fate was to stand still, frozen as an unseen relic of time while the world hurtled forward into a future he couldn't have imagined. Regretting his legacy, coming to terms with the fact that he was existing in a space where he couldn't change anything.

Long had he wondered of this purpose. Whether it be by punishment or pity, he was immoveable. And now more than ever it was becoming glaringly obvious that you weren't.

"Long day," you sighed one evening, flopping down next to him. He reached for your hand, wincing as his hand passed through like you were water. But when he made a move to pull it back, you shook your head, half smiling briefly. "Keep it there. It feels nice."

Billy smiled, turning to the side to look at you as you began to chatter, playing with a rogue strand of hair. "I got some news today."

"Good news?" he asked, and you smiled tightly, still anxiously fidgeting.

"An opportunity to travel. And go to school," you went on softly. "In London."

London. There was a pang in his chest. "That's incredible, sweetheart." Billy lowered his head to meet your eyes, where you were staring at the ground. "You've worked hard."

There was that half-smile again. "Thank you." He could see something brewing in you like a storm on the horizon, but didn't press. If you wanted to tell him you would.

After a beat of silence, you whispered, "I was excited about it. It would get me away from home." Billy's thoughts conjured the one time you had told him about your parents. About your mother's passing, and how your father had married a woman who hardly regarded you. He couldn't help but sympathize, thinking of his own mother and the cruel man she'd been forced to wed. The idea of you in that kind of situation kicked his protective instincts in, and it hurt that there wasn't a thing for him to do about it.

Billy nodded, searching your gaze. "You should be."

"And they have an amazing arts program."

"Of course."

"And it's beautiful- I've always wanted to go there." You were staring at him now. "The ocean is close. Closer than it is here."

He smiled. "It is."

Your eyes stayed on him, and he looked right back. It felt like you were trying to tell him something, but he refused to pry at it. Slowly, the corners of your lips turned down as something was defeated within. Without another word you breathed out, leaning down and resting your head in his lap. To his dismay, your head went right through his thighs, landing on the soft earth below.

Neither of you commented. He hovered a hand over the outline of your head, pretending to stroke your hair.

In the next weeks, you didn't broach the topic of school again, instead returning to your regular graveyard activities. Talking to him and smiling as if he was something extraordinary. Picking flowers that grew nearby and braiding them together, leaving them in little bouquets sagging at the base of his tombstone. He memorized every bit of you and tried to piece it together in the hours you weren't there, an endless puzzle.

The beginning of the end was impending, kicking up dust. He could feel it in his being, filling the space where his bones used to be. It wove marrow and tendons out of feelings, creating a whole other entity for him to inhabit. There was no end to Billy's endings.

You were lying side by side with him now, hair spread out like a halo over your head. When you opened your mouth, he heard it before you spoke.

"I'm going to school in London."

Billy let it stretch and consume him, show him what would never be. This was a routine. This was not new. "I'm happy you are. You're gonna do great, sweetheart."

Somberly, you whispered, "I leave in two weeks. To get adjusted to the new country."

He was quiet, just watching your expression. You were holding yourself together and he didn't know why.

Then in a quiet burst, a tear slipped from your eye, leaving a path on your cheek as it trickled down like rain on a windowpane. "Billy I don't want to leave you."

It hit him like something earthshattering. The shot that had ended his life hadn't collided the same way this did, with a force that came from somewhere in the folds of existence, somewhere Billy didn't understand. He sat up, reaching a hand out. "Sweetheart-"

"Tell me not to leave," you whispered, and he froze, watching another tear cross your cheek. "I won't leave if you want me to stay."

"You have to go," he said, shaking his head and getting to his knees, searching your eyes. "This is your dream. You have to do it."

"But I don't wanna go," you sniffled, reaching for a strand of hair and twisting it between your fingers. "Billy..."

"Hey," he breathed, hands over your elbows. "Sweetie, I'm always gonna be right here. And the time we've spent together's enough for me. I want you to live."

"I love you," you managed through your tears, lower lip trembling.

Billy shut his eyes, chin dipping. The fingers of melancholy were seizing him in a way that kicked everything that had ever mattered to the side. Your tears were multiplying, and they were of such a quality that he swore they were what dotted the sky every night. Stardust...that was what you were. Unreal. For him, untouchable.

He risked a look back up at you. You, whom he'd imagined as his for so long. But you weren't because he couldn't have anything anymore. The only thing Billy possessed was a sliver of humanity enclosed as an idea. He didn't even have a heart to give to you.

But there was nothing in him for the truth to hide behind. It was transparent as he was. "I love you too."

You took in a shaky breath. Billy knew right then that for the rest of time he would be committed wholeheartedly to you. You were the only thing in this wretched world worth anything. Tension heightening like a string pulled taut, you surged forward in a single motion, arms encircling his shoulders, pressing your mouth to his.

Warm. It had been so long since he'd been warm. But you were. Between his arms, encasing whatever was left of him in the gift of your body. He hardly registered the sensation of being kissed until you pulled back, breaths leaving your prettily parted lips in quick bursts.

Kissed. He had been kissed. He had kissed you.

"I didn't think that would work," you confessed quietly, and in a natural move, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from your eyes, something jolting in him when his fingers didn't pass through.

Billy shook his head, drawing you in by the waist and touching his lips to yours gently, relishing the sensation of you melting under his touch. He wouldn't dare try anything else, this new allowance precarious. Who knew if it would be taken away from him? Your hand found the collar of his shirt, just holding it as his nose bumped your soft cheek. Soft...he could feel that you were soft. Just as he'd imagined.

Conscious of your need to breathe, he separated himself from you, just a little. The last of your tears escaped, and he thumbed them away, not wanting to let go now that he had the option. You whispered, "I can't leave. I love you."

The chasm within him began to open again, and he could see the way it could have gone. Past and present and future. Every version of you and him spun until they disappeared into nothingness, leaving reality standing still, a tower of his own making. A structure he couldn't tear down if he tried.

He breathed, "I love you and that's why you have to leave."

The curtains of the summer were drawn shut, and sometimes Billy wondered if any of it had ever been real. He loved you too much to make you stay, to leave you hanging off the whim of a dead man with nothing to give forever.

He wished you hated him. It would be easier for you to leave.

Any writing on the wall was faint, and he'd been unsure if you'd go through with it. But after the day you were set to leave marched by without so much as a glimpse of you, he bowed his head and thanked whoever was above. Guilt would have tainted everything if you had stayed. He would rather love you miserably than be responsible for the end of another life, especially yours.

Time went back to how it was before. Boundless and brutal. Billy existed in the plane of memories, staring at the sky and letting it consume him.

He hoped for many things. That you would love it when you got there and forget all about him. That you would fall in love because everyone should fall in love with you.

Most of all, he hoped you would never return. He hoped whatever had tethered you to this place would unravel and blow away, off to some far away corner of the earth where you couldn't reach.

Regret tainted him oftentimes, and he wondered if he could leave like you had said. Go find you wherever you were and remind you that even the dead were enchanted by you.

Billy imagined sometimes what would have happened if you stayed. If maybe when you loved him so closely he would have eventually become whole again, not quite alive but not a ghost any longer. Physical. Worthy. Maybe it would have been proof to whoever had damned him this way. He was alive so long as he was loved. It could have been his second chance. The one leniency he'd snuck in the margins of his death's contract.

He let that dream rot with his body, buried in the earth below.

[latenightdaydreams]

I know you write a lot of Konig smut... But how do you feel about fluff? Like baking with Konig, or having a family with him or something like that. Your writing is so fantastic and I love reading it so much! You should write for yourself at some point too! You are an amazing awesome human! Have some snacks and water and get plenty of sleep! Have a wonderful day/night!

I do write fluff but then delete it because I think its corny 💀 I appreciate you so much! I am beyond thankful for all of your support and kindness! I hope you also take care of yourself and have an amazing day/night! I hope you enjoy this story!🥰

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Homecoming (fem)

Fluff!

Master List💗

>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, glossing over pass lost but nothing deep

1.1k word count

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König has been deployed the last 4 months but today is his homecoming, and the day you get to share your big news with him. Your belly has been growing for the last few months since you found out you were pregnant right after he left, exactly 8 weeks at that time.

The oven’s timer goes off as you stand slowly from the couch and waddle over to the kitchen to the the cookies you made for him out of the oven. It has become a tradition to bake for him once he comes home. Grabbing the sifter, you dust the cookies with vanilla sugar, the kitchen smelling heavenly.

Your hair still in your pink bonnet and wearing one of König’s shirts that is covered in flour from baking, you decide to go upstairs to begin getting ready. The bathroom filling with steam and the smell of your lavender body wash as you gently wash over your stomach.

“Daddy is going to be so surprised when he sees you,” your voice so tender while talking to your unborn child. The sex of the baby is still unknown since you wanted to be surprised with König.

Once out of the shower you dry yourself off while deciding what to wear. You always like to dress up for when König comes home, it is a special occasion after all. After a while being indecisive, you put on a yellow summer dress. Styling your hair in the way you know he likes; you walk out of the bed room and make your way back down stairs.

It’s a bright and sunny spring day so you decide to open the window to let the breeze in. You look over at the clock near you, 11:23am, you still have three hours until he is supposed to arrive. Feeling exhausted you decide to take a nap on the couch. You set an alarm on your phone so you can be awake before he gets home, and you lie down.

One hour later König unlocks the front door, eager to see you again after months apart. As soon as he opens the door he is hit with the sweet aroma of vanilla. A smile comes across his face as he steps inside and begins to take his boots off by the door, dropping all of his gear. It felt good to finally be home.

“Liebling? I’m home.” He calls out to with, but gets no response.

He begins to walk into the house and makes his way to the kitchen where he sees the homemade Vanillekipferl you’ve left cooling. He pulls his mask down and places it on the counter as he reaches for a cookie and eats one. His eyes looking around for you.

“Liebling?” He begins to walk towards the steps, assuming that you’re in the craft room.

That’s when he sees you asleep on the couch in the living room. König stops in his tracks as he smiles looking at your face squished against the blue throw pillow, snoring lightly. His eyes trailing down to your breast in your dress and then… wait. He thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him for a split second as he begins to approach you.

Kneeling down in front of you his hand slowly reaches out to feel your stomach, swollen with his child. “Hallo mein Kleiner…” His voice so soft. His hand rest on the harden curve of your pregnant belly. His eyes drink you in and how your body was changed. A million thoughts running through his mind but all he can focus on his how he has never seen anything as beautiful as you pregnant with his child. He is the luckiest man in the world.

His eyes shift to your face as he reaches out with his other hand, “Liebling, I’m home.”

Slowly you stir in your sleep, feeling his hands on your body. You slowly open one eye and see Königs blue eyes. Instantly you feel energized and sit up.

“König!” You sit up on the couch and he leans in to wraps and arm around your body as the other lingers on your stomach, his lips eagerly finding yours.

He tastes your lips and he breaths your scent in. He can’t explain the ways in which he has missed you. He slowly pulls away and looks into your eyes and down to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

“Schatz,” his hand gently moves over your stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“At first I wanted to make sure the pregnancy would stick,” you two have been through some losses together already, “then when it did, I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, I am surprised.” He chuckles, “You make such a beautiful pregnant woman…” His eyes trail over your changed body. He has seen your weight fluctuate over the years and he has never seen you as anything less than perfect. With his baby growing in your womb, you look like a goddess to him.

“Do you know what we are having?”

“No, I had the doctor write it down, put it in an envelope, and I haven’t opened it yet. I’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

König’s eyes lit up at the knowledge he gets to share this moment with you, “Wo ist es?”

“Its in my bed side table-” Before you could finish König jumped up to his feet and ran up stairs to grab the letter.

You stand and go towards the steps but König comes rushing back down before you go up. He scoops you in his arms bridal style and kisses your head before sitting down on the couch with you on his lap. In his hands he has the letter with your baby’s sex in it.

“Do you have a preference?” You ask as you caress the back of his head and play with his blonde hair.

“I don’t, do you?”

“No, I’m happy either way.” Your voice is giddy with excitement that the time has come.

“You ready Schatz?”

“I am.”

König opens the letter and pulls out first a sonogram. His eyes twinkle as he sees the 3D imagine of his baby’s face, blown away how he can see they already have his lip shape and your nose. You can see the emotions building that he tries to suppress. You both look through the sonograms until you get to the gender reveal.

“I- I have no idea what I’m looking at.” König says as he begins to laugh. You laugh along as you nod in agreement.

“He said he wrote it down,” You opened up the envelope again to see if we missed something. You found the slip of paper with the sex and You held up the folded piece of paper. “Ready?”

“Ready Liebling,” he kisses your cheek.

You unfold the piece of paper and his arms wrap around you tightly as you both begin to cry from excitement. The excited shouts can be heard from outside as you both celebrate the news.

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Burn [Joel Miller]

this is my entry to Em's On Repeat Drabble Challenge by @dancingtotuyo. thank you so much for letting me be part of this and I am sorry for this took so long—life kinda got in the way—anyway, thanks for introducing me to Zach Bryan and for doing this amazing challenge.

Inspired by Burn, Burn, Burn by Zach Bryan

pairing: joel miller x reader

wordcount: 1K

warnings: none really

Joel Miller hasn’t let himself feel anything for a long while—not like this. 

For years he’s been a fortress of solitude—feelings locked away, emotions a luxury he couldn’t afford. Yet, in the midst of the chaos and the infected, moments slipped through—fragments that caught him off guard. Moments that reminded him he was still human, with a heart capable of beating.

Moments that often revolved around you.

When he met you, Joel wasn’t on a quest for companionship nor was he seeking an ally. Yet, there you were, bathed in the early spring mist—your presence painted with a brush of quiet desperation he knew all too well. Bruised and with a limp, you had asked him for help. And for some goddamn reason he couldn’t—wouldn’t—send you away.

Thus, you stayed, just long enough to recover, or so the plan went.

But plans, in times like these, are as fickle as a sudden summer breeze rustling the treetops.

Joel quickly learned that you were resourceful, observant, unassuming, and quiet on your feet, yet spectacularly precise with a rifle—a skill he discovered only days later when you came to his aid.

Since then, the two of you had faced near-death scrapes, saving each other’s lives more times than he cared to count in the short span you’ve traversed the landscapes together. This proximity, this forced closeness—it’s only natural that he finds himself curious.

It’s normal that most evenings, Joel finds himself watching you. The way the campfire light dances across your focused face, the methodical way you clean your gear. It’s calming, he finds, and scarily comforting. He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t wanted it—perhaps that’s what makes it all the more dangerous.

Still, Joel can’t help it.

So, he observes and he wonders—if circumstances were different, if life had been kinder—would he have noticed someone like you? His old ideals of types and attraction have dissolved, and he hadn’t been in the company of someone for a long time, but Christ, you were beautiful.

And, Joel likes to imagine that yes, he would have noticed someone like you, would’ve asked you out, drawn you close, spun his favourite vinyls in his living room just to lure you into a dance, see if jazz sounded as good as he remembers it.

But not here. Not now.

So, Joel fights it, fights you, fights himself. Fights fights that leave him breathless—not from extortion but from the unspoken words that fill his lungs like smoke.

You don’t talk a lot, but he thinks that if he wasn’t the way he was—if he appeared less guarded, if his smiles came easier—you might share the slice of thoughts he often sees flickering behind your eyes ever so often. He knows this because he had watched you almost speak, lips parting, only to catch yourself with a fleeting glance his way a subdued smile before your eyes drop to your scuffed boots.

And he knows he isn’t an easy man to keep as a company. He had always been a man of few words, and with or without you, his silence somehow often stretches into days, creating a chasm that’s hard to bridge. He’s haunted by memories, shadows of the past that linger just out of reach but always present. Nightmares plague his sleep, and when he wakes, he’s more withdrawn, the walls around him fortified. His anger, though controlled, simmers beneath the surface, ready to flare at the slightest provocation.

Yet, despite all this, you still stay.

But there comes a night, one unlike the others, when the stars hang heavy in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the world. The campfire crackles softly, and the usual weight of silence feels different, charged with something unsaid. 

Joel sits across from you, eyes flickering between the flames and your profile, bathed in the soft light.

You look up, meeting his gaze, and for once, you don’t look away. The moment stretches, and something inside him softens, a wall beginning to crumble.

“Can you do something for me?” he asks, the words tasting foreign on his tongue.

You nod slowly, curiosity and something else—hope?—lighting your eyes.

“Talk to me,” he says, voice a low murmur, almost lost in the night’s quiet. “Tell me what you’re thinkin’.”

You hesitate, glancing at the fire, before meeting his gaze again. “I think... I think I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

Joel’s breath hitches. The openness in your voice, the raw vulnerability, seeps into him, warming the cold recesses of his heart. He moves closer, the distance between you shrinking, the fire casting dancing shadows on his face.

“I’m not good at this,” he confesses, his voice rough. “But I want to try.”

You reach out, your fingers brushing against his. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. He takes your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, as if afraid you might disappear.

For a while, neither of you speaks. The silence is no longer a barrier but a shared space, filled with the unspoken understanding that something has shifted. Joel’s thumb traces circles on the back of your hand, a soothing, grounding motion.

“I’ve been scared,” he admits finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of feelin’... of losin’...”

You squeeze his hand, offering silent reassurance. “You don’t have to be scared alone,” you reply softly. “We can face it together.”

He looks at you then, and something within him clicks into place. The fortress he’s built around his heart begins to dissolve, brick by brick. He pulls you closer, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t realised you’d shed.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “Please.”

Your answer is a soft whisper against his lips as you close the distance, and he allows himself to feel—fully and completely. 

And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure he minded.

[byeuijoo]

spring things 𐀔 boynextdoor

genre : mostly fluff ⋆ warnings : none ⋆ word count : 0,5k

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park sungho ⭒ a bike ride down the lane

on a beautiful spring afternoon, under a sunny sky, with birds singing in the wind, there's nothing better than a romantic bike ride around the lake not far from your home. sungho was ready to follow you everywhere, so he didn't hesitate for a second before following your lead. after a few minutes of preparation, you're off into the wind under a bright sun, rolling side by side, beautiful and radiant smiles on your lips, the scent of budding flowers tickling your nostrils in this new spring season.

lee riwoo ⭒ making flower crowns

the advantage of living in the countryside is having a big garden full of little flowers of all colors. a sunny afternoon of boredom, sanghyeok and you set up outside, filling a basket with a bunch of different little flowers to make flower crowns together later. after settling down on the outdoor table, you busied yourselves making your wreaths while chatting about anything and everything in the spring sunshine. just as you had finished yours, you felt something on your head — and when you looked up, you saw the crown your boyfriend had made in your hair.

myung jaehyun ⭒ picnic dates

even if the wind was against him, and prevented him for a good 3 minutes from putting the picnic tablecloth on the park's fresh grass, jaehyun finally succeeded in getting the latter into the right position to carefully deposit the many dishes you had prepared together beforehand. the return of spring and sunny weather means the return of romantic picnics during your free afternoons — listening to music with one headphones in one of your ear, eating, chatting and laughing out loud, you often end up dozing off against each other, his warm hand playing with your hair, while you can't take your eyes off his angelic face.

han taesan ⭒ walk through the woods

there's nothing better than the first walk in the woods in early spring, when the trees regain their color and flowers begin to bloom here and there. your hand clinging to dongmin's, fallen branches crackle under your feet with every step, but this doesn't disturb the birds returning from their migration. their new song mingles with the scent of greenery, nature and the renewal of this sweet season. and the soft, fragile wind settles on your skin in a pleasant veil that simply makes you want to enjoy this walk with the boy who gives you butterflies in the stomach. he seems interested in every new flower specimen that crosses his gaze.

kim leehan ⭒ lying under the sunny sky & watch the clouds

lying on a blanket in your garden, donghyun was at your side, his arm tucked behind your neck. the sun shone high in the sky, flowers showed their buds on the trees, colorful daisies grass, and in the blue sky, pretty white clouds forming all sorts of patterns that let your imagination run free. occasionally pointing a finger at the sky, outlining your drawings and arguing your ideas, the atmosphere of springtime renewal and the gentle breeze caressing your skin could be felt. especially when you felt donghyun's hand lightly caress your hair.

kim woonhak ⭒ jumping in puddles after a rainstorm

every teenager has a childlike side to him — and you and woonhak are no exception to the rule. after watching the rain fall violently for hours, slightly spoiling the afternoon you had free, the spring sun was finally showing its face, despite everything still being wet outside. putting on your rain boots, the boy pulled you by the hand outside, great bursts of laughter leaving your lips every time you jumped in a puddle. you were bound to end up soaked and your clothes full of mud, but no matter — the euphoria of the moment was far more important.

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reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated !

taglist ౨ৎ @leehanist @wtfhyuck @florainnie @dazzlingligth @yuma-is-mine

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 93

Part 1 Part 92

Eddie feels the hands around Will’s throat like it’s his own. Steve’s hands. Around Will’s throat. He gasps on the ground for a second as Barb and Mama Byers scrabble at him, trying to pry Steve’s hands free.

Will’s tugging at him, pulling at them both hard enough that Eddie swears he can feel his ass sliding on the tile toward him. Like he wants both of them to save him, even now, with Steve’s hands squeezing the life out of him. Steve’s pulling back, like they’re a fucked up little triangle ready to go out together.

Always, always together. If not in life, Eddie’s ready to stay by their sides in death.

“Will!” Mama Byers cries, bending one of Steve’s fingers back far enough that Eddie hears something within it popping free.

It doesn’t matter – once she lets go of the digit, it springs back, to hold on, crunching like the little bones beneath his skin are rubbing with every movement.

The sound, that terrible, horrible sound is what breaks Eddie free from his shocked huddle in the water. He sloshes upright, boots filling with heat as he lunges toward Steve, bogged down by the weight of his now-soaked clothes.

He joins the fray, yanking Steve’s hand for all he’s worth. Will’s still pulling on them both, he can feel it tugging at his sternum, pulling the strings of his heart like only the two of them can. But it’s getting weaker already. Steve’s is growing weaker right alongside it.

Like, Steve’s hands are choking the life out of Will and taking him along with it. Like, even hidden where he is, he knows he can’t live in a world where his hands have done such a terrible thing.

Eddie can’t breathe.

“Move!”

Barb jumps back without hesitation at the sound of Perkins voice booming around the small space. No one else does.

Eddie shifts his eyes toward her, wild and frenzied and they stick. She’s got fucking oven mitts on, a cute turquoise pair with lace cuffs, and she’s holding a steel pot between her palms, Like she’s making mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving and not watching her best friend choke a kid’s life right out of his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t see her move, doesn’t even comprehend what’s happened as something scalding drips onto his hands, so shockingly hot that he jumps back. He looks down at his hands, watches them turn bright red and blister.

Mama Byers is clutching her own face as Will drops, coughing into the water. She snaps out of it, reaching out with desperate, grasping hands to pull him away from where Steve stands, water sloshing as its violently displaced.

Only Barb remains unscathed.

And Steve, he writhes, wet and seizing, black bleeding into his veins.

Behind him, Perkins stands, oven-mitted hands still clutched around her now-empty pot.

Steve drops.

Water splashes around him, soaking everyone further as the water begins to creep out of the bathroom entirely, soaking into the Harrington’s pristine white carpet.

Eddie doesn’t care. He’s frozen where he stands.

Steve’s back arches macabrely, throwing his neck back far enough that his mouth is briefly submerged, bubbles coming out of his mouth in a voiceless scream.

It’s the swimming pool all over again. Steve was always going to drown, and Eddie was always going to follow right after him.

But then he seizes again, and his head’s above water.

Perkins drops the pot with a clatter, dropping to her knees to cup Steve’s face absurdly between her oven-mitted hands.

She’s muttering too quietly for Eddie to hear until he drops down beside her, holding the back of Steve’s head to stop him from going back under.

“Be okay, be okay, be okay,” Perkins mutters, less a plea and more a demand, like she can reach into Steve and rearrange his insides if need be. She’s snarling, feral and wide-eyed.

The blacks traveling up the veins in his arms, peeking out from his clothes as it moves, inexorably to coalesce in his chest. For a wretched moment, Eddie thinks this is it – the smoke will choke out his heart, and there will be no more Steve.

There’s a cry building in his throat, kept down only by the sheer force of it.

But then it continues, bubbling through his heart, and up, up, up into his throat, bulging the veins there enough that Eddie’s afraid they’ll burst.

 Smoke pours out, black and choking. Eddie and Perkins stumble back, instinct taking over as Steve falls unimpeded into the bathwater with clattering splash as his head hits the running faucet on the way down.

The smoke dashes around the room looking for new bodies or an escape. Eddie doesn’t care. Because Steve’s face is submerged and he’s not getting up.

Eddie lunges, meeting Perkins and Barb halfway as they all scramble to get Steve out of the tub.

It’s an uncoordinated slide drag pull, limbs bouncing off porcelain and tile. None of it matters, though. Because Steve coughs, dispelling normal, clear water from his lungs, no black in sight.

Steve Harrington opens his beautiful, beautiful eyes. They flit around, dazed, brow wrinkled until they land on Eddie. He smiles, just a little, like a reflux to seeing Eddie’s face.

“Hi, angel,” Eddie calls, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

“Ow,” Steve whispers, voice cracking from his ruined throat, but it’s all him.

Eddie laughs, just as Steve slumps into a dead faint, splashing back into the water for the umpteenth time.

Will sighs. “That’s definitely him.”

They’re all soaked and beat to hell, but this is the happiest Eddie’s ever been. He pulls Steve into his arms, pressing his face into Eddie’s neck so he can feel his puffing breaths.

Proof of life.

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary

Eddie Munson cries.

Part 94

[thestoryofella]

rainy day

summary: you are terribly unprepared for the weather, luckily your neighbor is dressed for a flood.

warnings: fluff, swearing

steve harrington x reader ✿ 976 words

There was nothing more soothing to you than the gentle patter of rain, splashing onto your bedroom window, a stream of light filling your room with the sunrise. So, when you woke up to a mist of rain spraying through your opened bedroom window, you knew it was a good day.

You got ready in a hurry, quickly throwing on clothes suitable for the weather, brushing through your hair, and practically running to the front door to slip on your shoes and grab an umbrella. It wasn’t until you tried to open your only umbrella on the front porch that you realized maybe today wasn’t going to be a good day.

“Well, fuck,” you muttered, the umbrella springs weakly flopping back down after you attempted to shove it open. You love observing the rain, being around it, not being drenched with it. From the looks of the outdoors, you were going to get drenched without an umbrella.

Looking from under the roof of your porch revealed an absolute downpour of rain. The rain came down torrentially, sliding off your roof visually similar to a waterfall rather than singular droplets. Given that your raincoat from last season didn’t fit anymore, and your umbrella decided to shrivel back up on itself, you were screwed.

Bracing yourself, you stepped out from the protection of the roof, immediately being hit by heavy water droplets. Living only half a mile from Hawkins High School was usually great until it meant you lived too close to be a part of the bus system. Today, you despised your proximity to the school.

Walking as quickly as you could manage, you marched through puddles of water that were practically ponds due to the uneven road, quickly feeling the weight of water as it soaked through your normally warm sweater.

You only managed to make it one block before hearing the voice of your only other classmate who had to walk to Hawkins too: Steve Harrington. He jogged up to you in an outfit that sent deep waves of jealousy through your soul. He looked uncharacteristically nerdy as he was readily equipped with rain boots, a rain jacket, and an umbrella. I wonder if he’s even found waterproof hairspray for the weather, you accidentally let out a small snort at that last thought.

Steve was nice, nicer than you expected him to be given his popularity and seemingly exclusive friend group. Despite the fact that you two never talked outside of school, you’d developed a relationship as friendly acquaintances due to your close living proximity and shared understanding of just how shitty walking to school every morning was.

When he meets you, Steve gapes. His eyebrows raise so incredulously that they almost meet his scalp. “Y/N! Did you forget your umbrella?” His breath fills the air with small, quick puffs of clouds, coming out in quick pants after running to catch up with you.

Continuing your pace, not wishing to be out in the rain for any longer than necessary, you and Steve fall step in step making your way toward school. Recalling the events of your morning, you gain a new twinge of frustration in your heart but nod nonetheless. A small frown sets in on your face, “something similar to that. It just wouldn’t open this morning no matter how hard I pushed upwards.”

“Gosh, I hate it when that happens,” he huffs out. “You know the last time we had rain like this, the same thing happened to me,” he gestures to his outfit, with his hand on his hip, “hence why I’m wearing this.”

You let out a small laugh, tossing your head back a little, after observing the ridiculousness of his outfit for the second time this morning. His rain boots look extra silly as you walk on the evenly paved main road, barely even submerging into any water as it readily went down the storm drains. “You know, I was wondering why you had so much rain gear on,” you laugh.

He looks up at you, and a look of embarrassment spreads across his face, a slight pink dusting his cheeks. He has to fight the urge to facepalm himself when he notices your rain-soaked hair. Here he was in every item of rain gear he could ever need while the rain pelted your clothes, gradually lengthening your sweater as the weight of the rain pushed it down your torso.

Without a word, he moved his umbrella to cover both of your bodies and the immediate coverage from the rain was relieving. However, you couldn’t tell if the warmth came from the end of the torrential rain pelting your clothes, Steve’s warm shoulder brushing up against yours, or the heat that crept up your face because of his thoughtful actions.

“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, slightly embarrassed accepting a thoughtful gesture. You’d always struggled with that.

“I figured I should put you out of your misery,” Steve laughed, his brown eyes and cheeks crinkling as a smile overtook his face. You two walked shoulder to shoulder as Steve made an effort to stay close enough to cover the two of you, although his raincoat would probably have him covered.

Walking shoulder to shoulder, you two gradually made it to Hawkins High School, mostly in comfortable silence as you enjoyed the sound of the rain, the tweets of morning birds, and the rustling leaves on overhanging green trees.

When you reached the school, you were filled with a comfortable warmth that you weren’t sure was from the relief of the umbrella or your thoughtful savior who was comically overdressed for a rain storm.

“See you around neighbor,” Steve waved in his oversized raincoat, a few droplets shaking off from the action, with a newfound twinkle in his eye you hadn’t noticed early this morning.

“Have a good one, Steve.”

[popjunkie42]

Chains

Read on AO3

Chapter One: Of Lovely Monsters

Summary:

"And yet I found myself deciding that if you took his hand, I would find a way to live with it. It would be your choice."

I sipped from my wine. "And if he had grabbed me?"

There was nothing but uncompromising will in his eyes. "Then I would have torn apart the world to get you back."

-A Court of Mist and Fury

Lucien steals Feyre away from the safety of the Night Court as she and Rhys train in the Illyrian Steppes. Winnowing her to the Spring Court and Tamlin, Feyre must contend with the consequences of leaving while held against her will.

An ACOMAF Chapter 47 divergence.

Thanks to @witch-and-her-witcher and @foundress0fnothing for beta reading and giving me amazing advice!

It’s my birthday and…

This is a lil dramatic divergence I’ve been working on for far, far too long. So now it’s your problem!

Chapter under the cut or Read on AO3.

Lucien moved us, again and again through the fabric of the world, his face straining and sweat dripping from his forehead. I screamed and wrenched against him as we winnowed further and further south, barely glimpsing the changing seasons as he pulled us through the courts. I could only tell the distance by the air against my face: a brush of heat, the blast of an icy wind. The misty mountains of Illyria trailing further behind us as he dragged me south.

I knew where he was taking me. My body screamed as I clawed and fought, useless now against his iron grip, and the further we got the more I felt that something inside me had turned brittle and was ready to break.

Rhys. Rhys. Rhys.

Where are you?

My skull was a prison, my mind trapped within. Just moments earlier it had been free - scanning the little blur of impressions from birds and rabbits in the woods, reaching out to listen, shivering from the brush of the other mind that nuzzled against me, and asked me and played with me.

I felt for that bridge, for that gentle pulse around my chest, once so tangible I thought I could feel it as strong as my own heart.

But there was nothing. I was empty - hollow. All my magic had poured out, and Rhys along with it. No cunning amusement, no smiles or violet eyes teasing at the edges of my mind.

No Illyrian warrior to draw me back from this hell.

As we whipped through the courts, I knew with growing horror what awaited me at the end of this journey. A scream was building within me and I didn’t know if it would come out through my mouth or simply keep building inside me until I burst.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Ten Minutes Earlier…

I didn’t hear the dripping of melting snow, the rush of the creek, or the howling of the wind. Not against the rush of blood in my ears.

Lucien. He found me. But –

“Feyre,” Lucien whispered, his red hair like a beacon in this black and white forest of ice.

In a blink, we weren’t alone. Spring Court sentries dressed in black and covered in weapons banked him on each side.

“Lucien. You shouldn’t be here.” The rushing river inched closer to me as I risked a single step, my stomach churning as he followed me forward, his boot crunching through the frozen top layer of snow.

His hand extended to me. No weapon in his palm, but he didn’t need one - now that I had trained my own powers, I could feel his own thrumming under his skin. The flesh of my arm prickled in warning. I wondered if the icy winter of this place would dim him, or if he could still set the forest ablaze, as I had with Autumn Court fire just yesterday.

“Put down the bow, Feyre. I’m here to take you home.” His voice was soft, strangely gentle.

“Don’t touch me,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt.

My mind was churning like the river, my thoughts a frantic blur against the blood rushing in my ears. Lucien. How had he found me? And Tamlin - gods, was he here? I haven’t used my powers in battle yet - what if someone gets hurt? What if I’m not ready? Rhys - he had to be close - would the High Lords rip this forest apart?

As if in answer, my shield dropped that small space we opened for each other, a tendril of my dark power spearing into the air.

Rhys! -I shouted into the void, just as the red paint stroke of Lucien folded into nothing. So quick I didn’t even take another breath of the cold Illyrian Steppes before his warm hand was on mine, and he had snatched me away into the space between worlds.

When we appeared again, we were still in the Steppes but somewhere higher - the air colder, the fog thick in the air.

I was going to scream, I was going to tear at him, but before I could even think, my power was coiling and twisting under my skin.

Lucien - my friend, whose life was in my debt three times over, had taken me. Was dragging me back - to him. The full length of Prythian wasn’t enough to escape it - this rot in the Spring Court, that gave them over to this haughty entitlement, this feeling of possession over me…

I swallowed the cold air into my lungs, letting the ice and panic hone my senses. With an exhale I threw my mind out to the forest like a swift wave, my body seeking his.

Where are you?

The grip of Lucien’s hands on my wrist was crushing. But my bones and joints shifted under his grasp as my fingers elongated and claws began to form, dark like black onyx. Fangs sprang to my mouth and I wasn’t even sure what I was turning into, just that I was in danger, I was angry and I was going to explode. Lucien wasn’t paying attention, was scanning the forest desperately, panting with exertion as I raised a clawed hand in the air.

“Fuck!”

But he was more prepared than I - using his grip on me to pull my body forward and off balance as he dipped to the ground and rolled out of my stumbling reach.

My jaw was widening, bones were popping and transforming in odd ways that probably should have been painful, but I wasn’t aware of such things. Anger burned through me and I felt my canines scrape against my lip as I roared, roared.

On the ground, Lucien turned pale as he scrambled backwards in the snow.

“Holy Mother,” he whispered, and threw something into my face.

Blue powder exploded against my cheek as the small satchel burst. Blue powder down my lungs like sharp metal dust, scratching and burning deep into my chest.

Whatever bones and sharp edges I was growing winked away in an instant, like a candle snuffed out. I didn’t feel the snow as I pitched forward, coughing and choking on the powder and the sudden breathless snap of my power disappearing within me.

In between the rasping coughs, I felt a silence, a cold and empty room within my mind - not a shielded space of mine, but a void of nothing.

Lucien gripped my wrist firmly as I coughed and sputtered, reaching over and over again inside of me for the power that was now gone.

“What did you do?” I screamed, the powder burning in my lungs.

“You’re not yourself, Feyre,” he said, breathless and shaking. He held my arm like a vise but kept me at the edge of his arm’s reach. “This is to protect you as much as me.” Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced. He was as tense as I had ever seen him - scanning the white and black landscape around us, a subtle glow coming from him, trying to pierce through the fog.

“We’ll get you free of him, Feyre,” Lucien whispered now, like we were being watched. I desperately hoped we were - imagined deathly black wings and piercing violet eyes descending on us through the haze –

The air around me whipped away into darkness as Lucien winnowed us from the Steppes.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

When we landed in Spring, on the cobblestones in front of the manor, Lucien and I collapsed.

He was on his back beside me, chest heaving, gasping for air.

It couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes.

Birds were singing in the forest beyond, the sounds becoming clearer as my breathing slowed. A warm, gentle breeze blew over us. A peaceful spring day, a mockery of the fear and anger burning inside me like a forest fire.

My muscles shook and I heard my quiver of arrows clatter against my back.

She didn’t want me to rely on my powers alone, that gentle voice echoed back at me.

I had been human, when I first walked these paths and up these stairs. No powers or even decent senses to speak of. Ridiculous, how much I’d come to rely on them.

Now I had two Illyrian knives strapped to my thighs.

In an instant they were in my hands, and I leapt onto Lucien with a snarl.

He barely caught my arm in time and my shaking limbs fought against him, pressing forward, the knife in my hand shaking above his head.

“How dare you!” I screamed, spittle flying into his face.

“Tam!” he bellowed. Even without my powers he struggled against me, my knee on his ribcage, my sweat dripping onto his pale strained face. “Ow, Feyre, Cauldron, stop –”

Bruising hands wrenched my arms and legs into the air, restraining me. Someone loosened my fingers one by one until the knives clattered to the ground as I thrashed.

I scented him before I saw him. Grass and rain and roses.

My body froze, my heart stuttering. A wave of something cold and prickling traveled down my skin as the sentries set me on my feet in front of him, my arms still in their wrenching grip.

Tamlin stood, rooted to the ground at the foot of the manor. His face had gone white, his eyes wide and blazing as he looked at me. An outfit of green and gold, a blur of muscles and power.

“Feyre,” he said gently. As if he had run into me unexpectedly, as if I was a ghost haunting the woods. As if he hadn’t sent Lucien and his sentries to take me.

The sight of him after so many months - his face so familiar yet so estranged, made anger and terror mix together into something sickly and thick in my body, dripping down my stomach like acid.

The last time I was here, I had been a prisoner. Locked inside until the walls choked the breath from me.

“No,” I whispered, my limbs beginning to shake. Moments ago my body was buzzing, humming like a panicked animal. Now I was frozen. My mind went black except for the steady chant inside of no no no no…

“Let her go,” Tamlin growled, that High Lord power of his command compelling even me to tremble. I was set down gently on the stones, my knees giving way, every part of me shaking.

Tamlin stalked towards me, the beast within him cautious, his eyes wide. An apex predator, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Feyre,” he said again, striding closer. “You’re back. You’re free.”

You’re free, Mor’s voice whispered in my mind.

Something in me jolted and I scrambled back from him on the cobblestones. I didn’t get far until my back was up against the legs of one of the sentries. I hated this trembling fear in me. I was a wolf, I was the Cursebreaker, I was made from all seven courts. But here I was nothing more than a trapped rabbit.

The High Lord kneeled in front of me, extending a hand, palm down, so similar to Lucien in the woods. Tentative, calming.

Like I was a feral creature to be tamed.

“What have you done,” I said, swallowing down a sob in my throat.

Finally, his eyes left me and flickered to Lucien, now standing behind him, his hand wary on the jeweled hilt of his sword.

“We found her in the northern woods,” Lucien replied to his silent question. “I winnowed, but her powers…I had to use the faebane.”

A muscled jaw clenched tightly, as Tamlin looked back at me. He was thinner than I remembered him - the lines of his muscles under his tunic stark, his cheekbones sharp against his sallow skin.

“Was he there?” he asked Lucien, still staring into my face.

“I didn't see him, but he was close. We got out before he could interfere.”

I needed my powers - my strength, my weapons. But not even my body would obey me now.

Come find me, come get me

“You’re home, Feyre. We’re going to help you,” Tamlin’s voice waivered, and he swallowed thickly. “He’s in your mind, but we’re going to get him out.”

Something cracked inside my chest. The birds were singing and a sweet scent was in the air and I was terrified and alone. Hot tears were running down my cheeks.

“No, he’s not,” my voice was saying, but I was far away. “He’s gone.”

Tamlin furrowed his brows at me. I could see the pain on his face, in his forest green eyes. As if I was hurting him.

He stared at me for a long moment, as I willed my tears to stop, as I willed them to turn to waves of the ocean or daggers of ice. But no power echoed in my blood, my bones. I was an animal, caught fully in their trap.

The High Lord of Spring reached for me and I felt the scrape of phantom claws on my skin, the bruise from Lucien’s grip still burning onto my wrist –

“Don’t touch me!”

Tamlin’s face was white with shock, and something like devastation. He froze before me with what seemed like an eternity.

“Bring her inside,” he finally said.

And I was hauled up by my arms and carried back into the manor, prison bound once more.

Read on AO3

[weirdosinthestereo]

The Cowboy and the Rocker (Tyler Owens x F!Reader)

Author's note: This is just a slightly self-indulgent story I've come up with after obsessing over Twisters. The reader has a name, but I don't think any physical characteristics are mentioned besides music taste and story age. Unedited! Enjoy! No warnings really for now.

Tyler sighed irritably as he stood beside his truck, he checked his phone for the fifth time in a span of six minutes. 

“Where is this kid?!” Tyler spits as he turned to Boone who was checking some mechanics in the big red Dodge. Tyler was ecstatic to help a student from the University of Alabama get data for their Masters project, but they were slightly behind making it to the meeting spot.

“C'mon man! They are only like three minutes late. You're just impatient.” Boone laughed as he lifted his head from the middle console. Tyler rolled his eyes and his lips pulled into a fine line as he looked out at the early morning sky. The spring weather was nice, but dark clouds already threatened them with storms to come. Tyler noticed a blacked out lifted truck heading down the highway towards the gas station. He could hear the heavy bass and screaming metal from here. 

“Oh please don't be our kid.” He mumbled as he watched the truck speed in to the lot and park in front of his Dodge. The Tacoma was sharp and already decked out with gear to protect it's driver from a storm. The University told Tyler on the phone that the student was already preparing to start chasing on her own, but he didn't expect to already see a very expensive truck on her first time chasing. 

“DRAG ME DOWN SOME MORE. GET ME LOW… LIKE A BASEMENT. I HOPE THAT YOU WROTE, ALL YOUR SONGS FOR ME.”

Tyler stared in shock as the driver of the truck smiled happily over her loud music. Letting it play with her windows down as if to make a big entrance. The driver pulled off her black sunglasses and revealed bright happy eyes. 

“Hi! Sorry I'm late! Had to get gas a while back.” Tyler noticed the heavy southern accent immediately when she spoke. She shut off the truck and jumped out. Tyler arched a brow as he saw she was wearing some more durable boots and jeans paired with a heavy metal band t-shirt, this is not who he expected to see. The girl walked up to Tyler happily as she stuck out her hand. 

“My name is Lila. I'm the student from UA.” Lila introduces with a bright smile. Tyler gave her a small smile before shaking her hand. “I'm Tyler. I was wondering when you were gonna grace us with your presence.” Tyler teased as he put his hands on his hips. 

Lila throws a glance back at her black truck, “Doesn't always have the greatest gas milage.” Lila glances off to the west when she heard anew angry rumble of thunder. Lila smiled as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 

“Sounds like we already have a storm brewing.” Lila says walking to where she could see the darkening sky more clearly. “I'm ready to test my truck out.” She adds rubbing her hands together excitedly. Tyler couldn't help the teasing grin that stretched across his face. “You think you can handle that truck?” He teases as he came to stand beside her. 

Lila threw Tyler as strange look, her nose scrunching up. “I've lived in Alabama for all of my 28 years of life, of course I can handle that truck. Just haven't had the chance to push her.” Tyler laughs playfully, despite her music taste, he was starting to like Lila. 

“Guys! We have some heavy activity on the radar from that storm building in the west! Let's go before we miss her!” Dani calls as the other wranglers throw their stuff in their vehicles. “Here, you will need this radio to keep in touch.” Tyler says tossing Lila a walkie before jogging to hop in his truck. 

Lila gawks before dashing to her truck as well and starting it up. Lila backs up to let Tyler lead and floors it to stay right behind him. 

Tyler and Boone start their feed as they barrell down the road. “What's up everyone! It's your favorite Tornado Wrangles and we have a special guest today in the truck behind us! She's came all the way from Alabama to chase with us for some data and footage for a Masters project!” Tyler yells to the camera over the music. “Roll tide!” Boone hollars jokingly. 

Lila grips the steering wheel tightly as she tails Tyler. Introducing herself to everyone on the walkie since she didn't before driving off. Lila leans forward to get a better look at the sky as the rain slowly starts up. Tyler makes a sharp turn on to a dirt road and Lila yelps as her truck fish tales slightly with the quick turn, but she gets it back quickly. 

“Okay newbie, back off for this while we head on. We will let you come on the next one.” Tyler calls on the walkie as he powers forward as the possible EF3 tornado touches down in an open field. 

Lila frowns and starts to slow down, however, she smirks before turning her music up loud. Given up by Linkin Park blaring from her radio as she slams her foot down on the gas. Dani and Dexter jump where they stand outside the camper shocked as they watch Lila speed to catch up to Tyler, Boone, and Lily in the Dodge. 

“Uh, Tyler? Our student is now chasing you.” Dexter says over the radio system in his vehicle. 

Tyler frowns as he looks in the rear view. “What the hell? Boone cut the camera a moment. Hey Lila?! I told you to hold back this time!” Tyler scolds on the walkie so he could talk to her. 

Lila looks at the walkie on her dash and smiles, “If you feel it, chase it!” She informs before overtaking Tyler on the small dirt road. Kicking up mud as she passes. 

“This girl is gonna get herself killed!” Lily says worriedly as she watches Lila cut off into the field. Her truck bounced on the new terrain as she kept heading straight for the tornado. Tyler curses as she follows Lila. “Lila! Back off now!” Tyler orders, but Lila wasn't listening, just flicked some switches in her truck to get her mounted cameras ready to take pictures of the storm on the outside of the truck. Lila stops her truck a few yards from the storm and presses a button that causes anchors to deploy and keep her truck locked down. 

Tyler was shocked to see this, this girl already had this on her truck as well? Tyler pulls up beside Lila and anchors his truck as well. Tyler looks over at Lila who's smiling widely as she gives him the swirling motion with her fingers that he uses on his videos. Boone laughed as he started the stream again to show Lila to the channel. “Guys! Look at this crazy girl having her first ride with a storm!” Boone cheers as the tornado envelops both trucks. 

Lila watches in awe as the storm roars around her, raging over the sound of her music. Lila presses the space bar on her mounted laptop to take pictures of the storm. Lila grabs the steering wheel shocked when her truck jerks roughly. “What the…” the truck starts to jerk again as the tailend of the storm comes at her. Tyler saw the scared look on Lila's face and leaned over Boone to see her anchors moving in the ground. 

“Shit! I don't think they go deep enough to hold her truck's weight!” Boone concludes. Tyler watched with a worried look as he saw the anchors start to eject from the ground. “No.. they are malfunctioning.” Tyler says, and looks to see the storm was just about to pass. 

“HOLD ON LILA! THE STORM IS ABOUT TO PASS!” Tyler yells through the walkie. Lila shook heavily as she saw the button light up to pull out the anchors. “No! No no no no no..” Lila mumbled as she presses the eject button in hopes to keep the anchors down. 

Lila screamed as her truck lifted about a foot and a half off the ground before dropping again roughly after the tornado passed them fully. Lila shook terrified as she clumsily got out of her truck. 

Tyler scrambles out of his truck and runs to her followed by Boone and Lily. Lila's knees buckle as she walks to the back of her truck, gripping the side of the bed for leverage. 

“Are you okay?!” Tyler yells as he comes to Lila's side where she was hunched over. Lila shook like a leaf in the wind as she leaned up and looked at Tyler. Boone kept the camera rolling as Lily stood on the other side of Lila. Tyler gave Lila a confused look as she smiled widely. “That was absolutely terrifying, but I wanna go again!” Lila yelled as she clung to Tyler's shirt as her legs still trembled under her. Boone whooped excitedly as he made sure to get footage of everyone as Lila jumped up and down now with him. 

Tyler stared at Lila's back in awe before a smile broke across his face. Lily let out a playful scoff as she crossed her arms and watched the two make content, “This girl is gonna give us a run for our money if she makes her own team one day.”

Tyler smiled wider as he watched Lila and Boone fuck around while Dani and Dexter park a bit away to join them. “I don't know… maybe she can work with us?” Tyler suggests and turns his wide smile to Lily. “She's still in school. There's no way she would drop out just to do this when she's so close to finishing her degree.” Lily shook her head. 

“School? I'm not in school.” Lila says absentmindedly before realizing what she said. Tyler frowns now, “Aren't you a student at the University of Alabama going for her Masters in Environmental Sciences?” Tyler asks as he comes closer. Lila stutters worriedly as everyone stares at her awaiting her answer. 

Lila sighs heavily and shakes her head, “I'm sorry. That was a lie. The guy that called you was a friend of mine. I wanted to go chasing with some professionals before trying on my own. I was scared you would refuse unless I came up with some sort of story.” 

Tyler puts his hands on his hips and chuckles dryly as he looks away. “Boone erase the stream. Don't post it.” Tyler gives a pointed look at Boone before he glared at Lila. 

“You know, we probably would have thought about helping you get experience if you had just been honest. Now, I just wanna send you home and never see you again.” Tyler seethed and Lila rubbed her arm as she dug the toe of her left boot in the mud, not wanting to meet Tyler's eyes. Tyler sighed heavily and took off his hat, running a hand through his hair. “But, you've already made the trip out here. We will let you continue to tag along. No more lying though.” Lila looks up shocked but excited. 

“Thank you!! Thank you!!” Lila yells jumping up and down before hugging Tyler tightly. “Okay.. you're welcome. Let's get going to see if we can catch something else.” Tyler says as Lila dashes for her truck and hops in. “Where to?!” She calls.

—----

Night had settled over the town the crew decided to rest in. Groups of chasers gathering at the same motel on the outskirts of the nearest town to follow the Tornado Wranglers, as well as getting their own starts. 

Lila walked the parking lot as she took in the many faces. Her hair still feels windswept and slightly dirty from wandering in the rain and fields all day. Lila smiled and waved at a few passing chasers that greeted her. It was literally like a traveling caravan with how many people seemed to know each other and shared a beer together after the long day. 

“Lila!” Tyler calls and waves her over to sit on the tailgate of his truck. Lila shyly comes over, still worried he was angry with her. “Hi.” She muses while hoping up to sit down. Tyler gives Lila a shit eating grin as he watches her settle in beside him. 

“So, you aren't in school. What were you doing before coming out here? Also, how did you afford to already have a decked out truck?” Tyler asks curiously. 

Lila snorts softly and laughs dryly, “My parents helped me with the last bit of the truck, but it's taken many years of saving to get that truck. I also work as a project manager at a local construction firm that also does a good bit of environmental consulting. I saved my vacation time for months to take off for two weeks. I wanted to be able to rest a week after getting home from chasing with you guys." Tyler listens quietly and shakes his head at her, a smile still pulled across his face. 

“So you do work on environmental issues then? Well, still you didn't have to lie. We loved the idea that someone wanted our help to do something for school. Also, I'd prefer you be careful going into storms for now since your truck tried to send you to the grave this morning.” Tyler watched as Boone and Dexter were actively trying to figure out why her anchors released on their own. Dani and Lily help by holding flashlights now that the sun is fully down. 

Lila sighed heavily as she remembered the fear she felt when she saw the red light come on telling her the anchors were coming up. 

“I don't really get to do much environmental stuff. Mostly I'm just a paper pusher. I know more about regulations than anything.” Lila explains as she looks up to the sky, admiring the stars.

Tyler watches Lila quietly, thinking of something to talk about. He wanted to lighten the mood between them after he yelled at her earlier in the day. He glances at her dirty band tee, Motionless in White? 

“So… you like the heavy stuff, huh? Who's this band on your shirt?” Tyler asks to break the silence. Lila smiled as she looked at her shirt. “Yeah, they are considered metalcore, I think? There are too many subgenres for metal. I love them, though. They are my favorite band. I've seen Motionless in White like five times in concert.” Tyler listened quietly. He didn't really vibe with the metal stuff, but he hasn't tried listening to it in years. Lila flushed red as Tyler watched her quietly and turned her head with a small smile. Tyler came back to reality when he saw her do this. He smirked cockily now. 

“Hey, don't get all shy on me now.” Tyler nudged her with his elbow as he lightly swung his legs that hung off the truck's tailgate. 

“Tyler!!! Come shotgun a beer with me!” Boone yelled loudly across the parking lot. A beer held up high in the air. Obviously, Boone had already had a couple first. Tyler shook his head and hopped down from his truck. “Come on. If we don't go over there Boone will just make more noise than needed.” Tyler said as he waited for Lila to join him. Lila laughed as she followed Tyler to the rest of the group. “How do you shotgun a beer?” Lila asks.

Tyler raised a brow and laughed, “We can show you.” That night wore on longer than it should have as Lila partied with the Tornado Wanglers and a few stranglers that joined them from other teams.

_-_-_-_-_

I may post more parts, but enjoy some Tyler Owens fluffiness!!

[vidalinav]

A Taste of Milk and Honey

Summary: Part 1 of omegaverse nessian; Nesta is an omega in heat when Cassian (alpha) is delivering the queens' letter in Wings and Embers. If you know, you know. This is likely to get smutty... for obvious reasons.

~

Delivering a letter shouldn't have been so hard, Cassian thought. Not for an Illyrian warrior who had centuries on the young woman who lived in the estate he currently circled.

He wondered what the humans might have thought about his behavior if they could see him past the glamour and wind. What did they see? A squawking pigeon or a tortured crow? A vulture circling the house like a ill-fated omen?

Cassian couldn't yell out that he wasn't here to devour dead human flesh, but he wasn't even sure that was true. Even now he could feel an ache in his jaw. He was ready to bear teeth, bite and feast... human flesh and well... An Archeron sister appeared in his mind and the thought of her pale neck. The way her chin raised so high, her nose held up in such a way that he could see exactly where his lips could press.

This Archeron hated him, though.

And he wasn't so fond of her either. He would give the letter to the queens to her simply because it was his task... not because fae feasted on flesh and he yearned to learn exactly how Nesta Archeron tasted when he licked--how sweet she'd be when he bit. Would she blush as pretty as the rosebuds not yet blooming, a fresh spring after snow and ice?

No, he thought, shaking his head. He was here to deliver a letter and to leave. So what if he agreed too quickly? So what if he circled the estate nine times already?

Was he scared?

Cassian didn't know. Rationally he knew that he should never underestimate humans. Humans were unpredictable, even if he was likely to best them in combat, and there was no human more unpredictable than that blasted woman who sneered in distaste, dismissing him so thoroughly he almost wondered if he was young again... there was no one better than Nesta Archeron at reminding him how dirty his boots were and how many callouses ran across his palms. He'd sully her with a single touch. Not that he was even allowed to touch her.

She'd hate him.

But she already hated him, so Cassian took a deep breath and held it as he made his way down to the front door. That was their plan afterall. He'd knock and she'd open it. She'd tell her maid it must have been the wind and he'd slip inside and try not to breathe in her scent.

Lavender and books so thoroughly loved, he'd get dizzy and Cassian knew he would hope somehow that it would get caught on his clothes so he'd scent her all the way back to Velaris. That he would give anything, even an ash arrow or two, to bottle it like perfume.

But Cassian straightened, shaking his head as he rid himself of such foolish thoughts. He wasn't a boy, and Cassian had a job to do, so he knocked as instructed.

Nesta Archeron opened the door, just as planned.

When Cassian had first laid eyes on her, he thought she was an alpha. No one that fierce could be anything but. She had radiated dominance. Her gaze was the color of knives and her tongue was just as sharp. Now, he could see that her eyes were actually a pale blue.

Skies and wind and the freedom of fresh air. Not as intense as metal but just as piercing. Already he could feel a tightness in his chest as if she'd stabbed him.

But her lips were a soft budding pink and he knew he'd suffer for just a sip from her. A taste of milk and honey.

"Who is it?" a woman called from somewhere beyond her.

But Nesta gripped the door handle, slightly shifting as to let him glide past. She shut the door with a thud.

"No one, Ms. Cartwright. It was just the wind."

Cassian stood as still as a statue as he spotted the housekeeper trudging forward with a furrowed brow. Nesta merely continued to the stairs without a glance to the woman.

"Are you sure, you don't want me to stay?" she admonished, the furrow deepening as she wrung her hands. "I know it's quite a private ordeal, but I'd hate to leave you when you're... like this. You don't have a mother to see you through and your sister plans to be away I hear."

Nesta's hand clenched along the banister and she barely spared a glance at the concerned housekeeper. Cassian didn't know if he should be thankful that her icy demeanor was not solely reserved for him or indignant that it was not his alone to keep.

Her spine stayed ramrod straight and her knuckles resembled the color of bone.

"I only need privacy," Nesta answered without even looking at the poor woman, but something about her answer made Cassian pause. His gaze had never left her form, but he surveyed her now with a warrior's assessment. What was wrong? What could he do?

"Just as originally planned, you may come back in five days time."

The housekeeper only nodded lightly, but Nesta spared her no glance as she made her way up the stairs.

Cassian followed, but he held his breath along the way, clenching his fists. Dizzying scent and his calloused hands that wanted to reach for her--he needed to finish delivering this letter and then stay far away from Nesta Archeron.

[jadegretz]

Chun Li: A Force of Nature by Jade Gretz

The night sky over Hong Kong was a stark contrast to the inferno raging below. Blazing flames licked at the edges of buildings, casting a hellish glow over the city streets. The acrid scent of burning debris filled the air, mingling with the cries of panic and the wail of sirens. Amidst the chaos, one figure stood resolute, her eyes narrowing at the source of the destruction. Chun Li, the world-renowned Interpol officer and martial artist, had arrived to put an end to the Pyrotechnic Killer's reign of terror.

The Pyrotechnic Killer had been a ghostly presence, a nightmare whispered about in the dark alleys of the city. His attacks were swift, brutal, and always left a trail of devastation. Buildings reduced to ashes, lives lost in a maelstrom of fire. The authorities were at their wits' end, unable to predict where he would strike next. But Chun Li was different. She had spent weeks tracking him, piecing together his pattern of attacks, and tonight, she would confront him.

Dressed in her signature blue qipao and white combat boots, Chun Li moved with a grace that belied the strength within her. Her twin buns were tied tightly, and her muscles coiled like springs, ready to unleash her deadly kicks at a moment's notice. She navigated through the chaotic streets, her mind focused on her mission. The source of the fire was close; she could feel the heat intensifying, hear the crackling of flames growing louder.

As she rounded a corner, she saw him. The Pyrotechnic Killer stood in the center of the street, surrounded by a ring of fire. He wore a black suit that seemed to absorb the light of the flames, his face obscured by a mask that glinted menacingly. In his hand, he held a flamethrower, its nozzle dripping with the promise of further destruction.

Chun Li's heart pounded, but she kept her expression calm, her body relaxed. She knew she needed to stay focused, to keep her mind clear if she was to defeat him. She stepped forward, her eyes locked onto his.

"Your reign of terror ends tonight," she called out, her voice steady and strong. "Surrender now, and I promise you'll face ju …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

FIFTEEN: STARTING FRESH.

“A little more, sugar,” Geto pants. “C’mon, you can do it. Just give me one more.”  “Deeper,” Gojo whispers to you. “Don’t fight it, darlin’.” 

Sweat gathers on your brow and you grip the nightstand beside you as you press your foot flat onto the ground. “Ow, shit!” you shout, your entire ankle burning. With your other hand, you grip Geto’s hand who gives you moral support while Gojo sits in front of you, ready to catch you in case you fall. 

“And time,” Nanami says, looking away from the clock hanging up on the wall. “You broke your record for last week. Nicely done.” He jots something down in his notes, standing near the door in his coat and glasses. 

Gojo claps his gloved hands while you finally sit down on the edge of the hospital bed, panting. Geto passes you a glass of water which you greedily slurp. “Who would’ve thought a damn snake bite would knock my whole foot out of commission?” you sigh. 

You stare down at your wrapped foot, glad to see your toenails looking less icky, but your foot still burns like a bitch. However, it isn’t as bad as when you first woke up since Nanami has been giving you antibiotics, infusions, and physical therapy. 

It’s been almost two weeks since you awakened in Nanami’s infirmary. Two weeks in Willow Springs. Two weeks of quietness and living life without being on the run or paranoid. Since then, Nanami, the Gunslingers, and your parents have been here to check on you every single day. You appreciate it more than words can express. 

The Gunslingers have been especially supportive for the past two weeks: bringing you fresh clothes; sneaking in late a night to tell you jokes; sitting with you while you sleep, etc. You try not to let these little things mean so much to you.

Gojo smirks at you from his chair, his hair slightly flat from his cowboy that. You think it’s cute. “Not bad, little darlin’,” he chuckles. “Soon you’ll be able to ditch this and get back to wearin’ those sexy boots.” He lightly taps your wrapped-up foot with his, making you swat him away. 

“Please,” you scoff. “But yes, they are sexy.” 

Geto gives a big, bellied laugh at this, the sound filling you with butterflies. You are now at the point in your “relationship” where that easiness and comfort feel so natural. It’s kind of frightening but you also like it. 

Luckily, these thoughts are pushed aside for the time being when there is a knock on the open door. There, in the doorway, stand your parents. “Knock, knock!” Yuri calls. “We come bearin’ gifts!” She carries a pan inside the room, Eren walking in behind her carrying a gift bag. 

Yuri pecks you on the forehead first before greeting the Gunslingers by uncovering the pan, revealing a batch of her famous oven-baked lemon custard pastries. Gojo jumps up immediately, ogling at the delicious goods. “You bought ‘em!” he giddily shouts. “And these are homemade, right?” 

Yuri tosses her head back and laughs. “Why, I’d hope so,” she cackles. “I was the one who made ‘em!” Geto knocks Gojo out of the way, bowing as he takes the pan. “Ignore him,” he sighs. “Thank you kindly, Mrs. Tokiyami.” 

Your mom just about swoons and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while Eren kisses you on the cheek. “And we have somethin’ for you, Dr. Nanami,” he says, smiling at the stoic doctor. He passes him the gift bag, much to his shock. “It’s just somethin’ small to show our appreciation to you,” he explains. “Y/N insisted on helpin’ us pay for it.” 

Nanami looks at you, shocked. “Seriously?” he asks. “You didn’t have to.” You shrug, smiling pridefully at doing something good. “I know I didn’t, but you deserve it for takin’ care of me.” 

You had planned it in secret with your parents during their visits, thinking of a good gif for he doctor. You finally decided on a glass plaque titled with his name and Number #1 Doctor. Nanami peers down at the plaque before looking up at you, touched and bashful. “This really wasn’t necessary, but thank you.” 

Your smile brightens and unbeknown to you, it causes Nanami to blush. “You’re very welcome, Kento.” Your parents share a look while Gojo glares at his partner. “They on first name basis now?” he asks before getting shushed by Geto. 

“So what brings you two here?” you giggle, your attention now on your parents. Yuri helps Gojo open the pan and passes you a pastry. “Well, me and your father been talkin’,” she explains, “and we figured that now you’re recoverin’ and you’ll be stayin’ here for a while, maybe you’d want to be more comfortable in our home instead of an infirmary…no offense, Doctor.” 

Nanami shakes his head, holding the plaque near his chest. “None taken,” he chuckles. “I would say yes too.” You slowly bite and chew into the sugary, lemony pastry. “You want me to come stay with y’all?” you ask. Eren nods, groaning from his old knees as he akes a sea on your bedside. “And your friends too, if they accept.” 

You blink at him, shocked by his willingness to let outlaws in his house considering how he feels about them. “Us?” the Gunslingers ask in unison, both shocked. Gojo beams, crumbs from the pasty all over his mouth. “Sure, we’d love–” 

Geto stops him, placing a hand on his mouth. “What my partner meant to say, ma’am, is that we’re so honored and grateful for the offer, but we should let Y/N spend time with y’all alone and enjoy her recovery. We wouldn’t wanna bring no trouble.” 

“Me either,” you agree. “Mama, Papa, as much as I want to say yes, I think I’d be best if I stayed here.” 

Eten looks at his wife, then at Nanami, and then at you, his expression darkening. “Is someone after you?” he asks, his eyes serious.

You bite your lip, struggling to answer. Even though Benji and his people haven’t shown themselves in weeks and Nanami told you no one outside of Willow Springs knows of your whereabouts, you are still weary. You can’t get your family involved. 

“Who isn’t after us?” Gojo wryly chuckles. “Sherriffs, police, rival outlaws…we’re walkin’ targets basically.” 

“Here, you aren’t,” Nanami replies, placing the plaque in his gift bag. “As I said before, this county is fairly quiet, but only because the sheriff chose to be quiet about your whereabouts. He and the people here respect your work despite the violence.” He locks eyes with you, holding them. “Trust me; no one knows you’re here.” And you believe him. 

Eren takes your hand in his, encasing it in his calloused, aged ones. “After all these years, we want to have you back with us again,” he softly says. “And we’d like to invite the men who protected you and saved your life to join. It’s the least we can do.” 

You gape at him, shocked at his kindness, and then look at the duo for their opinion. “We’ll pay you back,” Geto offers. “I can cook and Gojo can clean.” Gojo side-eyes him, still chomping on his snacks. 

“Oh, the money won’t be necessary,” Yuri chuckles. “But the help will be needed for us old folk.” And so the decision is made. You can’t believe how easy it is, feeling like you’re dreaming. 

An hour later, you are discharged from the hospital and using a cane for the time being. “At least for a week,” Nanami explained as he handed you the medicine for your bite. “Make sure you take two twice a day, morning and night, with water. I’ll give you some ointment to help clear it up.” 

You hold all of your snake bite medication in a little paper bag while you stand outside of Nanami’s infirmary with him. Eren is packing your things in the backseat of his automobile while Geto and Gojo are busy getting their horses so they can get their items and meet you at your parents’ house later. 

“So this is it,” you laugh. “I know you’re probably happy to get me outta your hair.” Nanami cracks a smile and shakes his head. “Not at all,” he says and again, you believe him. 

You awkwardly shift on your cane, still getting used to it. You can’t wait until you can finally walk and stand on your own without feeling any pain. “Thank you again for your help.” 

The doctor clears his throat, probably not used to receiving such gratefulness. “Don’t mention it,” he says. “And…” He pauses, his eyes quickly flitting over your parents and the Gunslingers. He leans in, his green eyes soft. “You know that if you need anything, you’re welcome here at any time…for your wound, that is.” 

His cheeks tun a light pink that you pass off as being an effect of the heat. You smile, touched by his kindness. “Thank you, Kento,” you whisper. “You’re a great man.” You lay a hand on his atm and gently squeeze it. Nanami looks down at yout hand, taken aback by the slight, fiendly touch. 

You then release him and begin to slowly walk away, leaning on your cane for support. “Y/N,” he says, stopping you short. You turn around, noticing how fitm his expression is, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Be careful with them.” 

You have no idea what he’s talking about at first until you hear a horse whiny from behind you. You turn, watching the Gunslingers gallop on their horses down the road and you see Nanami watch them, his mouth fixed. You realize instantly that he doesn’t trust Geto and Gojo. Not to the extent you do anyway. He probably still sees them as your father does: nothing but no-good outlaws. 

You immediately feel the need to defend your friends and so you do. “They should be careful with me,” you chuckle, “but thanks, I will.” You give Nanami a wink before you head towards your parents. 

Eren takes your cane to put in the back while Yuri helps you into the backseat, looking back at Nanami who stands there still watching you. “Oh, my,” she swoons. “You’ve got gunslingers and a doctor wrapped around your finger? I taught ya well, my dear.” 

“Mama,” you whine. 

********** 

That sunny afternoon, you venture out of your parents’ house to go looking for the horses in their stable. 

It is a pleasant, sun-filled midday, about 82 degrees with blue skies and fluffy, white clouds that look soft to the touch. A perfect day for riding. You haven’t been riding since your snake bite and have been itching to do so since your father told you that there are pastures just beyond the farm. 

You just finished unpacking your items and settling into your new home…for the time being, that is. Your parents’ home is a fifteen-minute drive away from town square which makes going for errands, supplies, and emergencies very convenient. Your parents live on a 500-acre farm in a cozy house with a brick roof, chimney, a fireplace in the living room and bedrooms, and a porch for warm evenings such as this one. 

The farm comes with a barn full of animals and a vegetable garden that Eren is very proud of, each separated by a wired fence. Each neighbor’s home is a couple feet away from each other, serving for privacy but also community, and a forest behind the farm that stretches on for yards that Eren often walks to stay limber. 

Yuri had fixed you and the Gunslingers lemonade and ginger snap cookies to celebrate you moving in while Eren put your horses out in the stable where the barn is so they would be more comfortable. You took your lemonade and cookies up to your bedroom located on the left side of the hallway. It is quaint and small with cherrywood furniture, a private bathroom, and horse plushies sitting up a flannel quilt. The plushies were Yuri’s idea, apparently. 

It truly is a cozy, wonderful little life that your folks live. One that you’ve been craving for. One that you hope to get later in your more seasoned years. 

You realize just how much you wish for it when you were given your own bedroom with your own bathroom and vanity for “lady things” as Yuri calls them. When you unpacked your things for your drawers, took a hot bubble bath, and dressed in the fancy sundress Yuri bought you, you felt normal. Human, even. 

You feel it now in your bones as you wobble on your cane with a book to the horse stables near the fire-engine red barn housing all of the farm animals. The sun warms the skin exposed by your sundress that sways slightly against your legs in the cool breeze. You paired the dress with riding boots and your cowgirl hat, panting from the effort it takes to travel with your cane.

You don’t know if horseback riding is allowed with your injury, but you’ll take an earful from Nanami and your parents later. You need to enjoy this moment while it lasts. So you wobble into he horse stable and immediately spo your girl in her own clean sall between Geto and Gojo’s huge Brancos. Your parents already own three horses, one of them much too old for riding or racing, so she’s used as a petting animal for kids who visit. 

You say hello to the three horses–Charlotte, Johnson, and Mable The Old Lady–before you make it to Reneigh. She knows your presence immediately and begins flapping her ears. “Hey, girl,” you whisper, gently patting her behind. “Whatdya say we take a ride, huh?” 

“I’d say you’re not supposed to be doin’ that,” a familiar, deep, velvety voice replies. 

You let out a terrified shriek and jump, nearly dropping your cane. You turn sound, finding Geto and Gojo standing off in the corner like two serial killers with cowboy boots and hats. Geto is sitting on a sool, his big, sexy thighs sptead wide while he dusts off a riding seat while Gojo is feeding his horse some oats from the front of the stall. No wonder you missed him with horse ass in your face. “Jeez!” you gasp. “You two come with a bell or somethin’?” 

Gojo full on laughs while Geto stifles his. “Sorry for the scare,” he chuckles, though he doesn’t seem too apologetic. “We were just tendin’ to our rides. They’re fittin’ in quite nicely here.” 

“Have we introduced you to ‘em?” Gojo questions. Then he gasps like you just murdered somebody. Dramatic ass. “We didn’t! Y/N, this is Goro”–he pats his horse's side–"and this is Riku! Say hi, fellas!”

The horses flap their tails as if to say ‘hello’. “So what brings you out here, little miss?” he asks. “Shouldn’t you be followin’ the doc’s orders and layin’ that pretty little ankle on a pillow?” 

He raises a brow at you over his shades, a knowing smirk on his face. You ignore the way your stomach flips at him calling your ankle pretty. “I’ve done enough of that,” you scoff. “Besides, he didn’t say anything about horseback ridin’. I haven’t taken Reneigh for a while in a minute, so I feel guilty for that.” 

You gently stroke your darling horse’s side, pouting at her. You know she’s been just as eager to have the wind in her mane and the world whistling in her ears as you have been. You crave it: the warm sun on your face; the wind in your hair; your heart pounding along with your blood as you feel your horse’s body move beneath yours. 

Gojo pouts at you, feeding reneigh and riku oats before lowering the bucket down. “Aw, you ain’t the only one, darlin’,” he tuts. “Actually, that’s a great idea! Your papa said the pastures here are beautiful and the fields make ya feel like you’ve entered heaven.” 

You can just picture those rolling hills and endless fields now. “So you’re sayin’ y’all are comin’ with me?” you ask.

You don’t why this makes you feel so weird. Your head is pounding like a migraine is coming on and your stomach is fluttering with annoying butterflies. You can’t understand why. You’ve been horse riding with duo plenty of times before! But then again, those times were for traveling and survival purposes. 

Geto passively shrugs as he stands up with his saddle and moves to strap it on riku’s back. “If ya want. Besides, what if you need the help if your ankle starts givin’ you trouble?” He gives you a megawatt smile that makes him look so boyish and cute. “We’re just bein’ good partners.” Gojo eagerly nods, agreeing with his partner's reasoning. 

Despite wanting this time for yourself, he does have a point. Feeling cornered by the two cute idiots, you give in. “Alright,” you sigh. “But I have to be back in time to help my mama with supper.” Gojo excitedly claps and you damn near laugh. “I’ll get the snacks!” he shouts and quickly runs back to the house. 

Silence falls upon you and Geto, but neither one of you try to fill it as he positions Gojo’s saddle on his horse too. You don’t attempt to do yours or ask Geto to do it for you. You should be fine without a saddle, right? Quickly, you realize how wrong and how stubborn you are when you attempt to mount Reneigh once you coax her out of her stall. You have to awkwardly put your cane in the crook of your armpit while you grab Reneigh’s side. 

You go to hook one leg over her back, grunting as you do. You flinch at the sharp throb of pain, emitting a slight gasp from you. You try to bite it back, but Geto hears you anyway and immediately comes over. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone “no nonsense”. If it wasn’t for the pain, you’d find it kinda of hot. 

“Just my ankle,” you sigh, rolling your ankle around. “S’fine, Geto. I just forgot the saddle and I need to use my other foot.” You give him a reassuring smile, but it fades when you get a look at his pursed lips. He isn’t happy. 

Without a word, he finds your saddle sitting on a stool and hooks it carefully on Reneigh’s back along with her reins. Then he turns to you and wraps his arms around you, bending his knees slightly to reach your height. “Whoa, hey!” you shout. You step away from him, putting your cane between his body and yours. “W-What are you—“ 

“Puttin’ you on your horse,” he replies as if it should be obvious. You scowl at him, suspicious, and he rolls his eyes. “You obviously need the help or you’re gonna mess your progress up. I’m sure Nanami wouldn’t be too happy with that.” 

Though he looks sick of your shit, you see a glimmer of something in his eyes. You aren’t sure what it is, but it doesn’t make you feel the least bit unsafe or concerned…and that makes you feel unsafe and concerned. What is it about these men that makes you feel so unarmed? 

Despite still being hesitant, you lean your cane against the wooden stall and let Geto take hold of you. He is gentle in the way he wraps an arm around the small of your back and the other hooking under your legs, bridal style. You go as stiff as a board, your heart pounding madly in your chest. His scent of sweat, mint, and wilderness—the sun, the trees, the grass—are tattooed on his skin and clothes, invading your nostrils. 

You unconsciously turn your head and breathe in the scent of his hair. It smells so sweet, like crisp apples, yet twinged with evergreen leaves. “Are you…smellin’ me?” Geto laughingly asks. 

You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. “I smelled somethin’ bad,” you reply, bite in your tone. “Thought it was you, but it’s just the horse stalls.” The outlaw chuckles in response to your retort, his broad chest rumbling. It makes your stomach flip. 

You’re so glad to finally be away from him when he carefully places you on Reneigh’s back, securely holding your hips as you place one leg over each side of the horse. Once you’re finally settled, he steps back and smirks up at you. “Comfy?” he asks. 

Even with you finally on your horse, he doesn’t immediately step away. It’s as if he’s making absolutely sure that you’re okay. Such a gentleman. “Yeah,” you grumble, gripping Reneigh’s reins a little too hard. “Thanks.” 

Geto nods, fixing you with a rather intense gaze that makes you feel uneasy. Luckily, Gojo comes back so you don’t have to spend too long alone with him, completely oblivious to the chemistry exploding between his two partners. 

“I’ve got the snacks!” he happily announces, waving a brown picnic basket around. “Ginger snap cookies, Granny Smith apples, and sweet tea. Now let’s head out, kids, before the sun leaves us.” 

Once all horses are mounted, you all ride them out of the barn and into the beaming sunlight. You ride in silence away from your parents’ arm, traveling up the small hills of rolling grass blades that sway softly in the summer breeze. The only sounds are from the rustling leaves of the trees, the buzzing of bees, and Gojo’s soft whistling. 

As you get farther away from the farm, you get closer to the pastures. The sight is beautiful and glorious enough for a painting: green hills and wheat fields grace your eyes as far as they can see, stretching to meet the blue sky coated in fluffy, white clouds that make you think of cotton candy. The breeze is cool against your face, sweetened by the scent of grass and distant flowers. 

Reneigh’s back shifts underneath you as she walks among the pastures, her main waving softly in the wind. Feeling her muscles and soft fur under your hands makes you feel somewhat emotional. You think about if you had died from those train tracks or that snake bite, you would never be here to experience this beautiful day that others may take for granted. You’re so happy to be sharing this peaceful moment with her. 

The Gunslingers too. You look over to them, catching them ride their horses slowly and lazily, their hats pulled low to block out the sun. As if sensing your eyes on him, Gojo turns to you, wearing his shades, and smiles. “Isn’t this perfect?” he asks. 

‘Yes,’ you think. ‘This is perfect.’ 

For the first time in a while, you feel a sobering sense of peace and happiness. It makes you feel warm and giddy all over like a kid on Christmas Day. Suddenly, everything is perfect and you can’t stop the smile that stretches across your face. 

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you gently snap Reneigh’s reins twice. She knows the drill. She picks up speed and takes off in front of Geto and Gojo who look on in confusion as you speed off through the rolling glades. ”What are you doing?” Geto calls after you. 

You turn to look at them over your shoulder, your hair in your face and your hand gripping your hat so it stays on your head. “Race me!” you laughingly shout. “Whoever’s last up that hill is a rotten egg!” You point to the biggest hill in the distance where the wheat fields are. 

Gojo and Geto share a bewildered look before breaking out into a smile. Gojo whoops and sends his horse running after you while Geto tosses his head back and laughs. “You’re so childish,” he cackles, but snaps the leather reins on his horse and follows after you. 

The outlaws chase after you, hot on your fields as your horses bound through the grass, up and down the slopes of hillsides. The only sounds are of the horses’ hooves pounding against the ground, your pants, and the wind rushing through your ears. All the sounds, tastes, and feelings mix inside of you, creating a high and a rush that zips through your fingertips and toes; splashes warmth all over your brain; makes your heart pump. 

This is life. This is what living is about. Not running from the law or murderous criminals. Not survival. You can’t help but laugh and scream, raising one hand up to let the wind slip through your fingers. “Woooo!” you shout, your joyful scream carried among the wind. 

You tilt your head back, close your eyes, and laugh at the sun, letting it warm your face, basking in its light. When Reneigh finally slows to a stop, you open your eyes and find Gojo already at the top of the hill. “I win!” he laughs. “Guess you’re the rotten egg today, little miss.”

Geto makes a close second, telling Gojo that he cheated. You’re too happy and content to be sour about losing, breathing heavily and still in the high that nature and good company gave you. 

You walk with Reneigh the rest of the way up until you meet the outlaws and scout the fields for a good spot. “Here’s a good spot,” Geto says, nodding at the quaint area beneath a canopy of trees to block out the sun. “Let’s give those hooves a rest.” 

You leave the horses to graze while you set up for lunch. You sit beneath one of the trees, your legs folded carefully underneath you so as to not irritate your ankle. Geto and Gojo sit an arm’s length from you, enjoying the weather and the food. Gojo lounges on his side, chomping down on the cookies and downing a bottle of sweet tea while Geto sits against a tree, his hat sitting on his lap as he chomps into an apple, creating a crunch sound every time his teeth sink into the flesh. 

It is silent, but it’s a peaceful, content silence. You don’t need to try to talk or make any unnecessary noises to make you all feel comfortable. The sounds of nature do that for you—the buzzing of bees; the chirp of birds; the slight chuffing of the horses. 

To anyone who may venture across you three, they would simply pass it off as three friends having a picnic. 

Or a date. 

Gojo is suddenly beside you, nearly scaring you to death because you didn’t sense him fast enough. “Whatcha readin’?” He asks, poking his head over your shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet. It must be good.” 

You roll your eyes and show him the cover of the book you got from Eren’s study. He’s been letting you have free range of his book collection since you moved in. “It’s about a pirate who stored away a prized treasure that everyone is after,” you explain. “The ‘One Piece’, it’s called, and it’s apparently based on a true story.” 

Gojo nods, looking interested or at least pretending to be so. He peers up at you from over his sunglasses, his blue eyes twinkling with sunbeams. The sight is almost devastatingly beautiful. “I never took ya as a bookworm,” he says, humorously, smirking. “It’s cute.” 

Geto chuckles from his spot, still chomping on his apple. You turn away from Gojo, shooing him away like he’s a bug. “Is flattery embedded in your DNA?” you scoff before going back to your book. You try to follow the words on the page, but the feeling of some damn eyes on you makes your brain short circuit.

Fed up, you turn, finding both men staring at you. “What?” you demand, raising an eyebrow at them. 

Gojo puts a hand up in defense, quickly looking away. Geto, however, doesn’t, his dark eyes soft as they regard you. “You just seem so…relaxed,” he says. “It’s a nice change, y’know? I like seein’ you like this.” 

The corner of his mouth peers up into a half-smile. Gojo agrees, nodding like a bobblehead. Butterflies flap around in your stomach at Geto’s sweet and genuine (and almost intimate) words. But isn’t this what friends are like? They like seeing each other happy, don’t they? And you do consider Geto and Gojo your friends, despite everything.

“Well, I like it too,” you quietly admit as if the very realization just came to you. 

Gojo puts his hands behind his head, settling into the wheat stalks below him. “Me too,” he yawns. “I could get used to this kinda life. The easy-like-Sunday-mornin’ life, y’know? No fuss, no muss, no runnin’ for our lives…” He tilts his head up to look up at the sky. “That would be a pretty sweet future.” 

You look at him and then at the sky, wondering what he sees in it. “What about you, Y/N?” he asks, smiling at you. “What does your future look like? You wanted to come to Willow Springs for a better one, right?” 

You blink at him and Geto who also looks interested in your answer. “My future…” You take a moment to truly think about it. You weren’t expecting that question. Though it’s so simple, it seems to take you forever to answer it. What does your future look like? 

“You said before that this place meant freedom to you,” Geto says, gently coaxing you to think. “Is it still that?” The two patiently wait for you to respond. 

So you think. Really think. You try to picture yourself in five, ten, twenty years from now. What would you be like? What would life be like for you? Would you still live in Willow Springs after wanting to come here for so long? Finally, after a moment of silence, you nod and lower your book. 

“Yeah,” you answer after some consideration. “I want my future to be…freedom, peace and happiness. To be able to walk around without hidin’ my identity. To have a real, honest job that doesn’t involve lyin’ and killin’ to survive. To own my own home with a red brick roof near a lake and a bunch of land for horse ridin’. To…I dunno, fall in love, have a family…” 

You trail off, flushing when you realize you’ve been rambling. But the two don’t look at all bored or uncomfortable by it. In fact, they look genuinely interested like you’re a movie they want to see the end of.

“That’s beautiful, Y/N,” Geto says and there isn’t anything teasing about it. He is genuine, his smile and eyes warm like a toasty fire. “I’d want that too.” 

You can’t help but smile back. “Hey,” Gojo suddenly says as if a thought just popped into his head. “Can we be in your future then?” 

You blink at him, your brain slowly processing his words. Even when they successfully do, you’re still confused. Is this a proposal or something? “Huh?” you ask, voicing your confusion. 

Gojo sits up, the sunlight turning his silver hair into spun gold and illuminating his handsome face. “Well, it seems to me that we both want the same future—peaceful, content, and super boring. So maybe we can achieve that together.” He turns to you, his smile damn near blinding you. “Ya think?” He asks. 

He sounds so hopeful. So sure that you’ll say yes and that everything will be fine. You sit there quietly, unable to speak or to think. You never even thought about the Gunslingers staying in your life longer than now. Could it be possible? Would they even stick around? 

Sensing your conflict, Geto jumps in. “Well, you think about it,” he says with a comforting smile. “And for the record, that kinda life ain’t boring. Gojo’s just a whore for action.” The white-haired outlaw pegs an apple at him that Geto catches with ease in his big hands. 

You close your book, suddenly not interested in what’s in it anymore.

Finally, you answer: “I’ll think about it” is all you say, but it’s enough for them....

For now.