#just riding horses and writing and pining

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: fluffy, domestic grumpy Joel drabble—he finds you after a trail ride with Ellie, acting all huffy like you were gone for days instead of a few hours. But for all his grumbling, he can’t seem to keep his hands off you, sneaking in every touch he can while you untack your horse.

I had this dream last night and after getting done with my morning shift at the barn (yes im a tried and true horse girl) I had to get home to write it asap. I really hope you guys don't mind my random stream of consciousness fluff ideas because I don't plan on stopping

The sun was dipping behind the mountains when you and Ellie rode back into Jackson, the warm glow stretching long shadows across the main road. The ride had been good—brisk air, the scent of pine, the rhythmic drum of hooves against the dirt. Ellie had been chatty, as always, rambling about how she totally could’ve shot that deer quicker if you’d just let her.

You laughed, nudging your horse forward as the gates swung open, and right there—like he had been waiting, though he’d never admit it—was Joel.

His arms were crossed, his mouth set in that usual line of perpetual disapproval, but the second his eyes landed on you, something softened. It was quick, a flash of warmth before he scowled at Ellie instead. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

Ellie huffed as she swung off her horse. “We weren’t exactly in a hurry, old man.”

“Obviously,” he muttered, though his gaze flicked back to you, sweeping over you like he was checking for any sign of trouble.

You grinned as you slid off your horse, your boots hitting the ground. Before you could even brush the dust off your pants, Joel was there, his hands bracketing your waist as he pulled you in. His lips pressed firm against yours, warm, familiar, and entirely unapologetic despite the fact that Ellie was loudly gagging in the background.

“Oh my God, can you guys not?” she groaned, dragging her horse toward the stables.

Joel ignored her, his thumb tracing along your cheek as he reluctantly pulled away, his voice gruff but low just for you. “Go get cleaned up. I got the horse.”

You tilted your head at him with a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “I'm perfectly capable to untack my own horse,”

Joel exhaled through his nose, already shaking his head. “Never said you weren't.”

“But I want to.” You met his gaze, steady and unwavering, knowing exactly how this would go.

He held your stare, jaw ticking, that stubborn streak flaring like he was about to tell you to get your ass home. But you saw it—the way his resolve crumbled almost immediately. Joel never really fought you on anything, not when you looked at him like that, not when he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

With a sigh, he muttered, “Stubborn woman,” before stepping back and nodding toward the stable. “Fine. But you brush 'em down. My back ain't gonna put up with that tonight.”

You beamed, looping your arm through his as you led your horse inside, and though he grumbled about how he was too old for this, you saw the way his fingers lingered against yours, like he had missed you the entire time you were gone.

The scent of hay and leather wrapped around you like something familiar and safe as you entered the stables with your horse in tow. Ellie was already tending to Shimmer, loudly talking about how next time she’d take you to a cool spot by the creek she found, but you weren’t paying her much mind. Joel was right behind you, keeping close, as if he still wasn’t convinced you’d made it back in one piece.

You pulled your saddle off and hoisted it over the railing, rolling your shoulders to ease the weight. Joel moved beside you, unclipping the bridle from your horse, his touch careful as he slipped the worn leather over her ears. “Good boy,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a rough palm against the gelding’s neck. His hand brushed against yours as he stepped past, slow and deliberate, like he was making sure you felt it.

It was such a small touch, but it sent warmth curling up your spine.

“You do the brushin',” he murmured, voice low beside you. “I’ll put this away.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Delegating, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, deadpan, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Gotta keep you in line somehow.”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Oh, that’s what this is? You think you’re in charge?”

Joel gave a low huff, shaking his head as he passed behind you, his hand dragging slow along your waist. “Ain’t no thinkin’ about it, sweetheart.”

You smirked, brushing your horse with a little extra purpose. “Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, Miller.”

That earned you a sharp look, but it didn’t have a single ounce of bite. He moved past you, close enough that his palm landed at your lower back, just for a moment, a quick press of warmth before he was gone. Always touching, always making sure you were there, close enough to reach.

You picked up the brush and started working through your horse’s coat, sweeping in long, even strokes while it grazed on its hay. Joel returned a moment later, settling in the stall, already working the leather cleaner into the seat of the saddle on the railing. But every time you passed near him—every time you shifted to reach another spot—his hands found you. A steadying palm on your hip. A slow drag along the small of your back. Fingers curling at your elbow, thumb smoothing over the inside of your wrist. You wondered if he was even trying to help or just wanted to stare.

“Y’know,” you mused, keeping your tone casual even as heat bloomed under every touch, “you could help.”

“I am helpin’,” he said, completely serious. “Cleanin' yer damn tack. Supervisin’.”

You shot him a look. “Uh-huh.”

Joel exhaled a slow breath, like you were really putting him through it, and finally relented. He stepped behind you, so close his chest pressed against your back as he reached around you to grab another brush. Instead of moving away, he stayed there, caging you in with warm, steady hands.

“Like this,” he murmured, guiding your hand with his own, their weight pressing down together against the horse’s coat.

You swallowed hard, heart knocking against your ribs. “You think I don’t know how to brush a horse, Miller?”

He smirked, his breath warm against the side of your face. “Just makin’ sure.”

You scoffed, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to. He was teasing you, but you could feel the way he lingered, the way he soaked up every second of being this close, like he’d been waiting for it.

Ellie made a disgusted noise from across the aisle. “Are you guys seriously flirting while brushing a horse?”

Joel barely even glanced her way. “Go home, Ellie.”

She groaned, muttering something about old people being gross as she grabbed her stuff and left. But you barely noticed. Joel’s hand was still over yours, fingers brushing slow circles into your skin, like he had no intention of letting go.

“You miss me that much?” you teased, leaning into him just a little.

Joel grunted, pressing a kiss against the top of your head before stepping away to put the brush back. “Every damn minute.”

Your stomach flipped at that, at the gruff honesty of it, no hesitation in his voice. You watched as he opened the stall door, letting your horse into the pasture for the night, his movements slow, easy—so at home here, so at home with you.

When he turned back, his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you gently from the stall. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Let’s go eat.”

You exhaled with a smile, warmth curling through your chest. “Fine. I’m starved.” You hesitated for just a second, then reached for his hand, fingers slotting between his as you squeezed. “And, Joel?”

He glanced down at you, his grip instinctively tightening. “Yeah?”

Your smile turned softer, quieter. “I missed you too.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but his hand slid from your waist up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to lean into you. He kissed you slow, deliberate—like it wasn’t enough to just hear it, like he needed you to feel it. Needed to remind you, in the only way he really knew how, just how much you meant to him.

Joel Miller was never a man of many words, but the way he held you, the way he kissed you in moments like this...it said more than words ever could.

[enjakey]

Through Plastic Screens

Pairing: Niki x Fem!Reader

Old fic (8k) being reposted AGAIN. Not plagiarised guys, it’s the same person. I literally cry every time I reread this. It’s gotta be one of my favourite fics I’ve written.

There’s so much yearning, so much slow burn- and I chose to hurt myself by writing this.

Summary: in which Niki, enhypen’s baby, falls in love with a fan, Y/N. And somehow, through all the tribulations of life, they stay in touch. Calls, texts, videos and pictures- it was all they ever knew of each other, how they fell in love. But how long would this last, pining for each other through plastic screens? But they refuse to leave each other’s lives- even ten years later, when they’re old enough to get married and have stable careers.

Read the extra HERE

I

There were many things about Y/N that Niki admired. He liked her habit of twirling locks of her hair around her finger whenever she spoke nervously, the ritual serving her endearing and beautiful features. He liked how her hair fell to her waist in waves that reminded him of a sunny day on the beach and palm trees with coconuts. He liked the twinkle in her eyes while she spoke to him, myriad anecdotes and jokes hidden behind her irises to share. He liked her fingers, supple and lean while he held them with cautious and almost shaky hands. He also liked her sense of fashion, simple and clean with the smallest pops of vibrant and neon colours that appeared in her jewellery or her shoes.

Then there was her laugh, joyous and juvenile whenever he made a joke yet the back of her hand would always hide her smile, which he imagined was captivating as well. He thought her voice was enchanting, casting some sort of spell on him that made him repeat every syllable she had ever spoken in his head like a beautiful broken tape record; like he had found his new favourite song and would listen to it on repeat until he got sick of it and would wait until he heard her say more sentences that he could repeat in his head. He found it fascinating that she wanted to study planetary sciences once graduating high school, making him realise she was smart and ambitious with great hopes for the future.

He could tell she was a shy girl by the way she would be at a loss of words with some of the things he said. He could also tell that she was the type of person to have very few friends by the way she talked about school and any experiences she thought to mention. He wasn’t judging her, but rather applauding her kind and caring personality, a personality built so graciously out of rose petals and tufts of clouds. He knew, just by the way she listened to him intently with curious eyes, that she was the girl that jumped to help any friend in need. And he also knew that she didn’t have anyone in her life who would be there for her when she needed it, regardless of whether she asked for support or not.

While talking to her, he felt like he was her knight in shining armour. He held her hand between his palms and he felt as though he was protecting her from all the misery anyone would and could bring her throughout the rest of her life. Her violet sundress was suddenly transformed into a period gown and her hair was curled to perfection, styled into what he would imagine princesses and queens used to wear back in the days of royalty. He felt as though they were riding away into the sunset on a horse, hand in hand while her sweet laughter of relief echoed into the background. She looked at him like he was a saviour, her saviour, and he wished to play that character for longer than he would be an idol.

Niki noticed and thought of everything previously mentioned in the span of eight minutes. If he was forced to be precise, it was exactly seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds. It was the total amount of time he had ever spent with her and there was little to no chance he would meet her, or see her, ever again. Because he met Y/N during an off-line fan signing and he found himself being swept off his feet by a simple conversation with a girl almost his age, visiting Korea with her parents for vacation and making use of her only chance to meet the members of her favourite boy group. By his luck, he just so happened to be her favourite member- her bias.

There wasn’t a time in his career of being a kpop idol that he felt insecure. He had always known that he was attractive, fitting the standards of modern male beauty which were enhanced by the mole on his chin and his boxy smile. But that day, after he got home from the fan-signing, Niki spent hours staring at himself in the mirror, brushing his fingers over his chin and nose and jawline, wondering if he truly was attractive and worthy enough to be favorited by Y/N and wondering if she only biased him in their similarities in age and nothing else. His hands carded through his hair, letting it fall messily past his forehead and temples and assessing whether it suited him or not and recalling if the wind had ruined it all while he was talking to her. He hoped and prayed to God, someone he didn’t even believe in, that she didn’t regret meeting him that day and that she was more in love with him by the end of their interaction because he was being himself, saying things most people would say to an old friend with trust and security and comfort. He felt comfortable around her, free like he could be himself without the curse of judgement looming over him. And he smiled freely and naturally with her without the presence of awkwardness like it was with everyone else he met that day. He could sense her aura, this pull about her that made him feel like he could do and say anything in front of her and she wouldn’t think of him any less.

He hoped his judgement of character wasn’t wrong.

Niki was part of a couple of offline fan signings till now. He had met a lot of people- girls who squealed at the sight of him and complimented him every chance they got, but he never met someone like Y/N . He never met anyone that could intrigue and endear them as much as she did, fluster him with a bat of her eyelids and a tilt of her head. He didn't think eyes of curiosity could have such a hold on him, pushing and encouraging him to speak more about himself due to the care and solace that lay underneath. A part of him was convincing himself that he would meet more girls like her as he lived on. He would meet more people like her and make him want to be himself and that people like her could be found anywhere if he simply looked in the right places. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised how that person wouldn’t be Y/N . They wouldn’t have the same hair as her or the same smile, skin, nose and eyes. He just wanted it to be Y/N.

He spent weeks thinking about her, hoping to bump into her every time he walked into a convenience store or travelled past a tourist attraction and looked around to see if he could spot her posing somewhere while her parents took pictures of her. He even bought her a necklace from one of those stalls on the streets, thinking it would be a romantic gesture if he gave it to her the next time he’d see her. But alas, no matter how much he wished to catch another glimpse of her or hear her voice for another second, Y/N was probably back in whichever country she came from and all he was left with was her name and an exchange that lasted seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds.

Between the third week of Niki wishing for Y/N , sadness had crashed into him like a wave, along with the tides of realization that his emotions would forever stay unrequited and unconfessed. He would brood over his schedules and drag himself around with a frown or heavy eyes. His shoulders were often slumped and his enthusiasm while playing video games with Heeseung or Jake disappeared. His only form of distraction and an outlet for his frustration became dancing, as it always had been since he was a child, and he found himself spending extended hours in the dance studio, running and jumping and even yelling throughout choreographies. It was like one day he was a boy filled with so much hope and love and now he was grieving over something that never was.

His change in behaviour didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. The management once scolded him for not showing enough enthusiasm during a V-Live and the rest of the members became officially concerned when he let the chance to make a perfectly timed joke slip by. It was painful watching the boy tut and sneer at things that would normally bring him joy- gaming, food, football and even watching horror movies with Sunoo. Every night he would come home, he would mumble his greetings to anyone else in the house and go straight to bed. Sometimes he'd skip dinner, other times he'd skip breakfast and on days where his schedule was empty, he'd lay in bed all day, watching a show while not even bothering to shower.

It took two days for Jay to beat out a confession from Niki, where he finally cried out his longing for a girl that was equivalent to a stranger. He weeded and sobbed and his eyes grew red and puffy and his body trembled while he dealt with emotions he couldn't understand because it was all so unfamiliar, so unheard of for someone to manifest such deep sentiment towards strangers. Y/N was equivalent to a girl he'd find attractive walking down the street and she was equivalent to any classmate of his he remembered from kindergarten yet here he was, curled up into a ball while his Hyung patted his head and told him that feeling confused and lost was an appropriate reaction to the predicament he put himself in.

The seven of them convinced the management to let them go out for dinner that night. They went to a Korean Barbeque not too far into the city, one which Niki used to always say he wanted to try out. Two guards stood in front of their table, standing high and mighty to make sure no one but the waiters interacted with them. The restaurant was fairly bustling, smoke filling the atmosphere along with the smell of grilled pork and lamb. From the corners of their eyes, they could tell some of the other customers recognised them, feeling sneaky cameras pointing toward them and groups of college students snickering and whispering about their presence.

Niki was talkative after a long time, contributing to whatever topic Jake was spouting about and making fun of Sunghoon when he got the chance. He ate properly after a long time, even accepting when Sunoo reached over the table to feed him enoki mushrooms. He seemed like himself after a long time and he was confiding in them, telling them about Y/N and the little things he could recall about her- her dangly earrings, silver chain around her wrist and neck and pastel yellow nails. Then he told them about his pining for her, how he spent hours trying to look for her on social media and how he carried around the necklace he bought for her in hopes of finding her someday.

“Do you have it with you right now?” Jungwon asked out of curiosity.

Niki nodded, reaching into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a slim silver chain with the pendant of a vibrant sunflower. It reflected against the tube lights hanging above them, twinkling and mirroring shades of yellow onto the white wall. The group was awed at the piece of jewellery, wondering how much it must have cost and hoping it wouldn’t go to waste. They gasped even louder when they were told that he bought it from a street vendor.

“This is stupid, right?” he said as Jungwon took the necklace from him, allowing Jay and Heeseung to admire it with him. “I mean, I’ve only known her for eight minutes and I’m so head over heels for her. Like, I’ve got to be stupid.”

“Yeah, you’re like the twenty-first-century Romeo,” Jake snickered, clicking his chopsticks together before earning a slap on the arm from Sunoo.

“Someone tell me I’m stupid,” Niki drooped his shoulders and looked around the group.

Jay cleared his throat, swallowing the last of his food. “You’re stupid,” he deadpanned and narrowed his eyes.

“Ok, that didn’t help,” Niki rolled his eyes and slumped into his seat.

“Dude, if you wanna get over her, the first thing you need to do is get rid of that necklace,” Sunoo pointed his chopsticks at Niki, a look of promise and determination on his face.

“Why would that work?” Niki asked.

“It’s like a form of cleansing,” Sunoo enthused, his voice softening as his hands. Everyone turned to look at him, some fighting the urge to laugh and others furrowing their brows in confusion. Upon noticing this, Sunoo raised his brows and tutted. “I’m serious! It’s the first step of letting go. Once Niki throws the necklace away, he’ll feel like he doesn’t owe her anything anymore and he can start to slowly move on from her.”

“And where did you get this from?” Sunghoon threw his head back in laughter. “From some k-drama?”

“No,” Sunoo jutted his bottom lip forward, puffing his cheeks. “My sister,” he looked down as though he was embarrassed as the rest of them burst into laughter.

“So you want me to throw this necklace away?” Niki confirmed and Sunoo nodded.

Jake was now holding the necklace, holding it towards the light and admiring it as though it was a crystalline diamond. The petals were a flaxen yellow, its small stem and leaf drenched in lush green. “This is a beautiful necklace, though,” he mumbled but was ignored as everyone was caught up in convincing Niki to throw it away and start anew. They were bustling like bees, arguing and urging in hushed noises so the guards wouldn’t hear while Niki sat silently, appalled by the only choice he was given.

“But what if I do see her again?” He reasoned.

“But do you really think it will happen?” Heeseung asked. “If you wholeheartedly do, then fair enough,” he shrugged.

“A huge part of me knows I’ll never see her again,” Niki sighed, looking to his side. “But I keep hoping that maybe fate will bring us together, you know? Like she’s not the only girl I’ve ever liked but she’s the only girl I’ve ever felt so strongly for. Isn’t it so pathetic of me? Right now, I’m wishing that she’ll walk through that door…”

Just then, the ring of the entry bell cut through Niki’s cinematic speech. For an instant, the entire restaurant ceased to silence and Niki’s gaze drifted towards the door. He first noticed a hand that held the door open, then her hair which was swaying to the side as she looked over her shoulder. Then she stepped into the restaurant, a smile glimmering under white lights and when her face came into view, Niki’s mouth parted, chin gapping as he soaked in the reality of the moment. The rest of the group turned in the direction he was looking, Sunghoon nudging Jake’s side so he would look away from the necklace and at the girl standing three tables away from them. All eyes were on her and Niki was shifting off his chair, slowly standing on his feet with mesmerised eyes and parted lips, an arm lifting so his finger could meekly point towards her.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

By hearing that, Jake’s brows raised, eyes widening with a gaping mouth. His chopsticks pointed at the necklace held in his hand and then at the girl everyone was staring at, his gaze focused on Jungwon who nodded enthusiastically, confirming his doubt. Sunghoon looked between Niki and Y/N , wondering what would happen next and Heeseung looked amazed, thinking about how the boy’s wish practically came true. It was too much of a coincidence, one that would go down the history book of romance. They all might as well be the side characters to a k-drama, watching the hero finally meet the heroine after an unfortunate incident.

“Y/N?” Niki’s head tilted to the side, brows furrowing like he was confused, refusing to accept that after four weeks of looking and wishing and pining she was standing right there, in front of him, under the same roof as him, breathing the same air scents as him.

She was dragging her parents to a table on the other end of the restaurant, a waiter guiding them with welcoming smiles and handing them an English menu. Niki’s eyes followed them as they took their seats. Y/N was smiling like she was on top of the world, hair bouncing around as she talked about something that made her father laugh and her mother shake her head in disappointment. She had on a different pair of earrings, as far as he could see, but she wore the same rings, bracelets and necklace from the last time he saw her.

“Am I dreaming?” Niki said, blinking profusely and pinching himself to feel some sort of sensation- he flinched and yelped in surprise. “Am I seeing things?”

“Is she wearing white jeans and a white tank top with designs of some anime character in red?” Jay raised a brow.

“Yeah.”

“She’s real,” he patted Niki’s back twice.

“Y/N!” Niki snatched the necklace away from Jake’s hand and sped away from the table. Sunghoon and Jungwon called out for him but nothing but her laugh was audible to him as he jogged towards her with no clear aim or plan in his head.

He didn’t know what he was going to say to her and he didn’t know how he was going to introduce himself to her parents without sounding like a love-struck idiot. All he knew was that he was impatient to speak to her again, to hear her words directed towards him and hear her laugh at his jokes and pick-up lines. His wishes were finally coming true, all the energy he spent drooping and whining over finally becoming worth something and as he came closer to her, his smile grew wider, a youthful excitement hovering over his head as his heart beat faster than it did while performing in front of a crowd of millions.

His signature boxy smile appeared on his face when he finally reached her table, chest heaving up and down as he tried catching his breath. Y/N noticed him with wide eyes, a tinge of fear flashing across her eyes when her parents turned their heads to find a tall boy dressed in swanky clothes with styled hair. “Niki?” She said, stunned by his presence.

“Hi,” he said, waving his hand at the group of three.

“Who are you?” Her father pointed a mean finger at him, silently asking him to walk away.

“Is he from that boy band you went to meet?” Her mother spoke softly, eyes darting between her dumbfounded daughter and awkward celebrity that was equivalent to a stranger.

“Yeah, he is,” Y/N cleared her throat. “You’re… why? How? I don’t even know what to say… why are you here?”

“I need to talk to you,” Niki said, frankly. He gulped down a lump in his throat while he tried ignoring the flashing glares her father gave him.

“What is going on?” He demanded.

“I don’t know!” Y/N brought her palms to her temples, feeling a rush of blood flow to her cheeks in embarrassment.

“Please?” Niki met Y/N ’s eyes for the first time that night and time seemed to slow for a second. His eyes were glassy, her words stuck in her throat.

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat and hastily apologised to her parents. “I’ll be back.”

Niki pulled Y/N out of the restaurant by her hand and she followed him while almost tripping on her feet. They stood near one of the windows, looking at one another for a few seconds, pacing around their feet. It was chilly and she shivered, teeth clattering as she wrapped her arms around herself. To keep her mind distracted from the fact that she was standing in front of her idol, her celebrity crush, she thought about how she should have listened to her mother and worn something with full sleeves and gotten a jacket.

“Are you cold?” He asked while removing his trench coat. “Here,” he said, handing it to her, comfortably standing in the cold with a shirt and knitted vest.

“Niki… what is all this?” She took the jacket from him, gaze not leaving his as she put it on and hugged it against her torso. “Normally, I would take a minute to be talking to you because you’re a kpop star and all that and honestly, any girl would be freaking out at the moment and even I am internally but I’m also really confused because you still remember my name and I didn’t think you would remember my name because you have more important things to remember and it’s really an honour-”

“You’re blabbering,” Niki grinned, tilting his head downwards so he could get a better look at her. He was towering over her, his hair falling onto his forehead and hands stuffed into his pockets to form an infatuated aura about him. She was also intimidated by him, her nerves only being eased by the jacket covering her arms. “Do you do that when you’re nervous?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. She was fighting the urge to meddle with her hair because if she did, then the jacket would loosen around her and she would feel cold. Instead, she would occasionally brush stray strands of her hair away from her hair.

“That’s alright. And please, call me Riki instead”

Niki didn’t know what to say anymore. The girl of practically his dreams was standing in front of him and he had all the freedom to do or say whatever he wanted but he didn’t know how to. He was shy, even embarrassed by his emotions as he looked at the girl in front of him, wondering how he was going to explain what he had been feeling for the past four weeks. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the rest of his members trying to stealthily peek at the pair from the window and he almost scowled.

She noticed the change in his expression and she looked over to find that all of them were there. Jay and Sunghoon were seated closest to the window so she could see them clearly eyeing them, observing their every move. Behind them were Jake, Sunoo and Jungwon and she could catch a glimpse of Heeseung nudging himself closer to the window so he could watch what the youngest of them was doing and acting. Realising that Y/N had caught them peeping, they all turned away and attempted to pretend like they had been eating and minding their own business all along.

“Oh, God,” she said, turning back to him in panic. “This just makes me more nervous. They’re all watching? Holy shit-”

“No, no, don’t worry,” Niki frantically shook his hands in front of him. “You don’t need to be nervous, they don’t mean any harm. I can take you to meet them if you’d like?”

“No, that’s really not necessary,” she chuckled awkwardly. “I’m a bit too shy for that.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “They all still remember talking to you during that fan signing, too.”

“Really?” she awed.

“Yeah, really.”

“It’s a miracle I’m not freaking out right now,” she grinned, leaning her head to the side. “So, why did you want to speak to me anyway?”

“Well,” Niki started, looking to his feet as he formed his words in his head.

“What is it?” She urged.

“I don’t know how to put this easily.”

“Well, then, just say it how you’re comfortable with it. You dragged me outside so you might as well just say it,” she chuckled with comforting eyes, her toothy smile soothing his nerves.

“Y/N , I really like you.”

Niki didn’t know how he let the words roll off his tongue so nonchalantly but he supposed his confidence made him look more attractive. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and darted his eyes around the changes in her face. Her brows slowly raised as she comprehended his words and her eyelids fluttered before her eyes grew to the size of baseballs. Her mouth opened and closed in repeat like she wanted to say something or spew out words of puzzlement but she couldn’t bring herself to. In the end, she was a stuttering mess, eyes glued to him and scared to shift her gaze.

“And I’d really like it if we could meet again tomorrow,” Niki added, in hopes of getting an answer from her.

There was a loud silence that followed. Y/N ’s mouth zipped shut and she pushed another lump of dread down her throat. A breeze blew past them, swaying their hair and bringing a few dried leaves to circle around them. It truly felt as though they were transported into a cliche scene from a romantic k-drama where the hero and heroine would be caught up in some quarrel but would end their argument by confessing their feelings for each other. But this was reality, as much as it felt like a dream, and the universe usually worked against the bigger pictures they dreamt for themselves.

“Riki, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

II

In the five years Niki worked as a kpop idol, he had met many people from celebrities and influential members of politics and media to the fans that he adored so much and in those five years, Y/N was the only friend he made that wasn’t part of his group. He had known her for a little over three years, their friendship solely based on physical interactions that lasted a whopping seventeen minutes, texts that went on for days and calls that started in the middle of the night and ended by sunrise. At the end of every day, despite their differences in time zones, they would text each other about their days, giving each other an insight into the most mundane details of their schedules and families. If Niki wasn’t tired and if Y/N was free, they would call during his night and her afternoon, sometimes watching a movie together or talking about something that would be deemed irrelevant the next hour.

Calls and texts were rare and if it weren’t for Y/N ’s patience and understanding nature, they probably wouldn’t even be friends. She cherished every moment she could spend with him, caring for him in the only form she could through the plastic screens of her phone and laptop. She would check on him every once in a while, listen to him when he ranted about homesickness or the hecticness of his schedule and she even sent him care packages every six months. The sunflower pendant he bought for her all those months ago never left her neck and the jacket he let her borrow would be on her shoulders every time winter came. Niki would update her about his day through random pictures and snippets of videos he would take in between work and travelling. He also had a habit of sending terribly long voice notes filled with conversations between him and some of the other members. There was a bracelet of hers that she had given him the last time they met. The black and white beads stayed on his wrist no matter where he went or what he was wearing. It was little things like such that kept them close despite the distance between them and despite going days or weeks without speaking sometimes. They had the type of friendship that people wished they had, the type of friendship teenagers would grow jealous over.

Yet, Niki was always disappointed with how their relationship never progressed from friends.

In all honesty, he knew they would never work out as a couple. His career in the kpop industry strengthened and monumented by the day and he was already starting to make plans for his future for the days when he wouldn't be performing on stage and recording albums anymore. There lay a lot of pressure on his shoulders, along with odds stacked against his hopes for finding love. Y/N was fully focused on building herself a career in astronomy, studying extra hours and assisting as her professor's subordinate. She even worked internships, her talent and knowledge solidifying her career before she even graduated college. There was still a long road of schools and programs she had to finish before she could call her career something to be proud of and getting into a relationship, especially one that was online, would be a risk for both of them.

There were things they expected and needed from a significant other that they couldn't offer each other through texts and calls, which weren't even as consistent as they would like them to be. They wouldn't be able to go on dates and get to know how they would act if they were physically in front of each other. They wouldn't be able to hug, hold hands or kiss as normal couples do. They wouldn't be able to console each other on bad days because sometimes, words and random memes pulled from Pinterest just weren't enough.

So, despite how much they hated it, they would stay friends, online friends, until some miracle brought Y/N to Korea or Niki to America, where she was studying.

There were times Niki would hope he would find another fan to fall in love with the way he found Y/N . During meet and greets, he would cautiously and meticulously plan questions to ask the people that came to meet him in hopes of replacing the emptiness Y/N had left in his heart. But there was no other like her. He met girls that were bold and confident and he met girls that were smart enough to graduate from all the Ivy leagues. He even met girls that were sweet and kind and didn't have the heart to hurt a fly but they weren't Y/N and they didn't have her smile or that particular twinkle in their eyes and he had eventually given up.

"You know I've always loved you."

Niki was hiding under the covers, pressing his phone between his ear and the pillow and speaking in hushed whispers so he wouldn't wake his Hyungs. It was past one am for him and Y/N had just gotten back to her dorm after spending a day in the research lab with a classmate. They were both tired but could muster up enough energy to call for the first time again in a month. She moved to stand on her balcony, letting warm air hit her wind as she held her phone to her cheek.

"I know, Riki," she breathed. "You know I love you too."

"I've been thinking of all the possibilities of us being together and I just can't see it happening unless one of us sacrifices our careers."

She could hear his voice crack, soft whispers becoming broken mumbles as he continued speaking. She would be lying if she hadn't thought the same but she had always put it off, hoping for some miracle to take place so that one day she would find herself in his arms, put each other to sleep and waking each other up to the rays of sunshine protruding through curtains. But that would never happen, just like how they would never have their first hug, first kiss or first date together. Not now, at least.

"I've thought about it too," she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and leaned against the railings. "We've talked about us getting into a relationship before. We know it's not a good idea. I'm fine staying just the way we are, you know?"

"I know, Y/N ," he sniffled. "But there's only so long either of us can wait for the impossible to happen, right?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I don't want to be hurt anymore over you and I don't want you wasting your hopes over me either."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm trying to say that if I end up finding someone else that I like, I'm going to try and move on and I think you should do the same."

Whenever Niki would go through an exceptionally bad day, he would put himself to sleep by watching a funny video of Y/N that he'd saved in his gallery. Some were videos of herself that she sent, shot by one of her friends while she said something comedic or did something regrettable. Other videos were filmed by himself, screen recordings of their video calls together while she did something stupid and childish for the sake of passing time or making laughter. These videos would usually wipe the tears or frown off his face and have him fall asleep with a smile but he didn't bother to do that after he hung up the phone with her that night. He roughly shoved his phone under his blanket and buried his face in his pillow, a string of sobs and cries muffled into it while he punched his clenched fists into the mattress.

He had awoken everyone at one point, yelling a string of profanities that made his Hyungs jump out of bed and run to his aid. He cried minimally but the salt tracks on his cheeks looked permanent. His hand stuck to the area over his chest where his heart resided, complaining about the fact that it physically hurt and taking painkillers didn't help him either. Jay and Heeseung sat with him until the sun rose, keeping him distracted with as much conversation as they could and even offered to play a game of football in the hall if he was interested.

The next two months were filled with minimal texts and pictures from his side. While she would blow up his phone with texts and pictures of updates about her life, he would respond with a few emojis and a short text explaining how his day was tiring and repetitive just like any other. He didn't send any pictures or voicemails and when they called, he barely spoke sentences that contributed to any conversation. When she found out from Jake that it wasn't just her he was acting depressed around, she yelled at him and gave him a piece of her mind until he came around and got over himself, finally coming back to his enthusiastic antics on the third month.

Life went on that way. Whatever priority he had given Y/N had shifted towards his career and whatever hopes she had for him had diminished. She still wore the necklace he gave her and he still wore the bracelet she gave him. She still used his jacket but care packages rarely went his way. They still texted but only once in a while as though they talked to each other for the sake of it. Their calls barely lasted for a few minutes because sometimes he would be busy touring and other times she would be busy with exams. So they resorted to sending voicemails to each other but only once in a while and soon, conversations were nonexistent.

“What happened to us?”

Y/N was in tears that night and she called him because she missed him. She missed her best friend and she missed how he cared about what happened in her day. She missed being excited to update him about her days regardless of whether they were boring or eventful. She missed sending him pictures and she missed how he used to appreciate her effort in the care packages she sent him or the random compliments or flattery he would text her. She simply missed him- being around him, talking to him, being able to crack jokes and laugh with him for hours about nothing in particular. But a part of her knew it wouldn’t be easy to go back to how they used to be.

“I don’t know, Y/N .”

“I miss my best friend,” she sobbed. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Y/N ,” Niki pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, fighting the tears that pooled in his eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m trying so hard but you’re not putting any effort and it feels like you don’t care. So, it just makes me want to do nothing and say nothing to you.”

“I’m trying too but I’ve been busy and you know that, Y/N .”

“Riki, even I’m busy. But I’m still trying, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m trying, too. I’m sorry.”

III

Seven years later, Y/N received a letter from Niki.

“I’m getting married,” it read in his handwriting. “And you better be there.”

Along with the note came a wedding invitation. It was a navy blue card with intricate designs printed in white and in the middle of it read “NIKI WEDS JOCELYN” in bold italics. Then, there was the RSVP card which asked if she was attending or not; if so, would she bring a plus one? It was simple for her to answer but she pondered whether to even attend the wedding. Buying plane tickets to Seoul, Korea wasn’t the issue but flying there meant taking a holiday from lectures at the university and if she wasn’t sure it was worth the sacrifice. She wasn’t sure if she had it in her to face Niki for the first time in forever. Even though they had a reason to meet again, to have her fly to where he was so they could finally meet, especially when he requested for her there, she didn’t think she wanted to take that opportunity.

Niki told her about Jacelyn a few years ago. It was a meaningless mention like she meant the equivalent to a coffee he drank that day. Y/N didn’t think much of the fact that he rarely ever talked about her. In the beginning, she thought their relationship must have started off smooth and loving but as time went on and when she didn’t hear her name again, she assumed they had separated. Staring at the wedding invitation in her hands, she didn’t know if she was supposed to feel surprised that his first relationship turned out to be his last or hurt by the fact that he never shared anything insightful about the girl he clearly loved so much.

Y/N didn’t know how their friendship was salvaged for such an extended period of time. Over the years, texting and calling became taboo between them. Instead, they would email each other. It was a ritual of long and chained emails they didn’t plan on breaking. They would write them once every few months, detailing the things they deemed were important to mention about themselves and she was surprised he didn’t mention the importance of his fiancee. She didn’t know when he proposed and she didn’t know how they met and she didn’t even know if it would make a difference if she attended the wedding or not.

She supposed he stopped mentioning Jocelyn for the sake of not hurting her. To be fair, Y/N wasn’t detailing her encounters of rendezvous with other men and various other love interests in her life to him either. Yet the difference was that the men in her life were flings, drifting in and out of days like clouds passing over her head whereas Jocelyn was Niki’s sun, a permanent aspect that would continue to cheer him on through day and night.

Nishimura Riki was now the proud owner of his own dance studio. He had twenty employees working under him and two hundred students learning under his aid, dreaming to be the next best dancer of Korea or another kpop star like he once used to be. He was also a brand ambassador for Prada and Bvlgari and producer for the talk show Jay and Jungwon had started hosting a while back. He needed someone like Jocelyn to cheer him on and support him and she could give him things Y/N never could.

Because, in the end, love wasn’t enough of a reason for Y/N to abandon her studies and start a life with a boy who didn’t know how to treat her the way she deserved. Love wasn’t enough for Niki to abandon his dreams and build a family with a girl who couldn’t offer him what he needed.

On the RSVP card, she ticked that she would attend without a plus one.

Y/N didn’t get a chance to meet Niki before the wedding began. Instead, the first time she saw him in person after almost ten years was while he was standing beside the priest in tears while he watched Jocelyn walk down the aisle. He listened to him recite his vows, his sweet words sounding so familiar to her because they were words he used to utter to her when they were sixteen, naive and infatuated with the confusion of lust and attraction. Now they were twenty-seven, burdened with wisdom they wished they didn’t have and experiences they wished they could wipe away. They wished they could be sixteen again and make the mistake of falling in love with the wrong person because, at the time, it was the best kind of high they could find.

After the ceremony was complete, Y/N walked around with curious eyes and the jacket he had given her all those years ago. It was old and wrinkled and no matter how many times she had given it to the dry-cleaners, she accepted that the loose strings and dried curry stains could never be fixed. She saw the previous ENHYPEN members walking around, talking amongst themselves or enjoying a glass of wine. Sunoo was the best man and he had the pleasure of greeting all the guests- she wondered why none of them approached her. She quickly realised that to them, she was just a stranger. She was someone no one knew, forgotten with ancient history and replaced by the better.

Niki no longer wore the bracelet she gave him. She wondered when he had thrown it away while she played with the sunflower pendant that continued to hang from her neck. She pondered leaving without bothering to greet the boy, to remain without the joy of being able to meet an old friend. They were only physically around each other for seventeen minutes, it would be alright if they kept it that way.

But he came jogging towards her with wide eyes and two glasses of wine held in his hands. He had that boxy smile plastered across his face, chest heaving with excitement as he stood in front of her. Deja vu washed over them, reminiscing about the time they had met in that Korean Barbeque restaurant all those years ago when he jogged up to her and her parents and gifted her the necklace that was now a relic of their history.

“I gave you that jacket to keep, you know? Not to return it on my wedding day.”

“It’s the first time we’re seeing each other in ten years and that’s the first thing you have to say to me?”

Nervous would be an understatement to describe what both of them were feeling at that moment. The wine glasses held in his hands could be seen shaking and her heart was beating loud enough for half of the guests to hear. Yet, they shrugged with awkward smiles on their faces and leaned forward, wrapping their arms around each other for the first time but it didn’t feel that way. It didn’t feel as special and cherished as they expected it to feel but rather normal and common.

“That was our first hug, huh?” Niki chuckled and she took a glass of wine from him.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” She scrunched her nose.

“It’s weird that it doesn’t feel weird.”

They clinked their glasses together and took the first sip.

Jocelyn walked towards them, her beautifully curled brown hair bouncing off her shoulders and dazzling hazel eyes smiling brighter for her instead of her lips. She was gorgeous and she started jumping around when she realised she was in the presence of Y/N , the girl Niki would talk about and praise all the time. It came as a shock to Y/N , looking between the married couple with a gaped mouth and a million thoughts running through her head.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t talk about you with her or the rest of the members?”

“None of them seem to remember me, though.”

“Oh, they remember you. I just don’t think they remember what you look like.”

Jocelyn left the pair to talk alone so she could tend to the rest of the guests. Y/N and Niki were left sipping on their unfinished wine, one replaying the events of the last few minutes and the other reminiscent of the last decade of their lives. He could still list out things that he admired about her. For instance, now, he didn’t feel the need to force out any conversation and he didn’t feel awkward now that they were meeting for the first time. He could admire her forever, not as a lover but rather as a friend because that was all they could ever be. He had a wife now and he was settled in life and Y/N was the person that had seen him grow and mature through the many stages of his life.

“You still wear that necklace,” he observed.

“Never took it off, Riki,” she pursed her lips. “And you stopped wearing my bracelet?”

“Yeah, I took it off a while back.”

“Nice.”

“It was my way of moving on, Y/N .”

She wasn’t angry, per se. Perhaps a little hurt, which manifested in the form of a pang in her chest but she accepted it in seconds, moving on from the pain and concentrating on the flavours of wine that sloshed around her tongue. Niki noticed that she was tapping her foot to the floor, almost as if she were impatient for something; he realised that her habit of twirling her hair around her finger was lost.

“I don’t think I stopped loving you until after I met Jocelyn.”

Y/N was probably the last guest to leave. Despite Niki and Jocelyn’s pleas for her to stay another night so they could go out for dinner and perhaps bond over lost time, she still hailed a cab to take her away to the airport. On her way there, she solemnly rested her head on the window, weakly chuckling when she realised that they had driven past the infamous Korean Barbeque she and Niki met at. She could almost relive the moment, see herself and him standing outside the restaurant while six other boys tried rubber-necking in their conversation.

Now that she was looking back, those memories were worthy enough to be laughed about. It was ancient history but it didn’t rip open a wound whenever it was talked about and she could accept that she wasn’t enough for her first love and her first love wasn’t enough for her.

She accepted that he got married and would start a family soon and she accepted that the next time they would meet again would probably be at her own wedding.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Foxglove Downs Chapter 1: The Stallion

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Teen. (Eventual E. MDNI) Summary: As owner of Foxglove Downs, the prestigious stables and training grounds where world-renowned show jumpers Marcus Acacius and Lucius Verus practice, you find yourself caught between the two rivals, pulled into a world of fierce competition and unspoken desires. Warnings: Love triangle, horse talk, jealousy, pining, almost kissing, flirting, age gap (Marcus is in his 40’s, Lucius is in his 20’s). Reader is in her 30's, has hair, and has a nickname: Sunny. Words: 3,500

Foxglove Downs Masterlist Masterlist

A/N: I'm excited to start sharing this story with you. It's been rattling around in my brain for the past couple of weeks. This all started, as always, with @ohheypedrito and I talking about Marcus and Lucius. Thank you to @schnarfer for the show jumping idea when I mentioned how badly I wanted Marcus and Lucius to be rivals. Also, the biggest thank you to @devineconjuring who can not only translate my terrible typed messages to her... but also be the best beta who makes my writing 1000000x better.

—-

Standing at the edge of the training arena, a gentle breeze from the rolling hills surrounding Foxglove Downs sends a chill across your skin.

These stables have always felt like a second home to you. Every day, you'd make the short walk down the sloping hill from your home to your favorite place, Foxglove Downs–the world-class stables your family has owned for decades. This is where your parents ran their prize business, passing down their love for horses and hard work to you. From a young age, they entrusted you with tasks like mucking out stalls, filling water troughs, and assisting with feedings. While other kids played video games and watched TV, you’d spent every spare moment watching the horses being trained and groomed, eagerly listening to and learning from the experienced employees. 

It was always evident that you’d follow in their footsteps. Horse riding was not just a hobby for you–it was a way of life, a passion that runs deep in your blood. After all, both of your parents were accomplished equestrians themselves, making horseback riding feel like second nature to you since before you could walk.

But professional riding was not the path that you took. Now an accomplished horse breeder, you also own Foxglove Downs. Passed down to you by your parents once they decided to retire, you happily spend your days caring for your beloved horses and overseeing the prestigious breeding and training operations. This is truly your idea of heaven.

Especially when the two hottest champion equestrians call your arena their practice grounds.

The sound of hooves hitting the ground echoes across the field. Blocking the late afternoon sun from your eyes, you watch as world champion show jumper Marcus Acacius glides his horse over a series of jumps. For such a large and intimidating force, his grace and ease are on full display as he and his horse easily clear each obstacle. Watching the way Marcus guides his horse through a trickier series of jumps, you find it hard to believe that he’d come from such humble beginnings.

“He’s pushing it today,” you whisper to yourself, noticing the tension in Marcus’s shoulders. The wooden fence is rough against your hands as you lean into it further to watch him as he nears where you stand.

His horse clips the top rail of the final jump, sending the pole clattering to the ground. You frown, watching as he circles back, his face set in frustration.

“Ouch.” A familiar voice catches your attention.

Turning, you see Lucius Verus, Marcus’s main rival. Casually leaning against the fence, his blue eyes twinkling with the mischief he’s famous for.

“Be nice,” you reply with a smirk. “Never seen anyone better.”

He moves closer with an air of superiority, clutching his chest in mock offense. His confidence on full display, that of someone who has never faced any type of hardship in his life thanks to his family’s wealth and status. “You wound me. And here I thought you had an eye for talent.”

You laugh, the sound carrying across the grounds. “I do… but that’s why I breed the horses and leave the jumping to you two.”

“So, what are you doing down here?”

“He asked me to be here,” you gesture towards Marcus. “He wants my opinion on his new filly.”

“Is that what it takes for me to get your attention?”

“Yep. That, or cooking me pasta alla vodka.”

“I can't cook. But I do know a great restaurant. Let me take you there,” he offers, angling more towards you.

You let out a laugh, tilting your head back. “Really? Again, it’s not going to happen. Just like the last five times you asked.”

Lucius–the ever-consummate flirt–leans in closer, his voice low. “Ah, yes. This is when you tell me to open up my phone and dial a random hookup.”

You straighten your posture, locking eyes with him. “Feel free to do so.”

“But there’s no fun in that. Especially when the prize is so… beautiful.” His eyes look you up and down.

"I’m not just another trophy to be won, Verus.”

“Oh, I know,” he whispers, now close enough for you to feel his breath.

Before you can retort, the sound of hoofbeats grows louder. Marcus brings his horse to a stop near the fence, dismounting with fluid grace. His dark eyes flick between you and Lucius as you take a small step, giving yourself some space. A slight frown creases his brow, no doubt having noticed your interaction.

"Sunny," he nods in greeting, then turns to Lucius. "Verus. I didn't expect to see you here."

“Looking good out there, Acacius,” Lucius praises, a slight edge to his voice.

Marcus sends him a singular nod before looking over to you. Your breath hitches at the sight of him–the sun highlighting the silver streaks in his hair, his denim shirt stretching across the muscles of his broad shoulders.

“It’s always good to see Barley again,” you smile, admiring Marcus’s trusty stallion you have worked with since he was a foal. “He moves like a dream.”

Marcus's lips quirk into a rare smile. “He does. He’s perfect.” You feel the heat creep up your neck as his eyes don’t leave yours.

“Well, Sunny,” Lucius interrupts your thoughts, his voice low, his Irish accent alluring. “Another satisfied customer, hm?”

His smirk and wink make your heart race, his eyes lit with playful mirth.

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “I aim to please.”

Marcus clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “The filly’s in the stables if you want to go take a look.”

“Of course,” you nod. As you turn to follow Marcus, you’re stopped by Lucius’s hand on your arm.

“Don’t forget about our dinner plans tonight, darling,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Still never called anybody. I’m free tonight.”

You pull your arm away and chuckle. “And you’ll continue to be.”

As you walk away with Marcus, you can feel Lucius’s eyes on you.

Tension seems to roll off Marcus as he leads you to the stables. 

“So,” you say to him, trying to focus on business. “What did you want to discuss about the filly?”

"I’ve been watching her. She’s got potential, but her left hind leg…”

As he walks into the stables, you watch the way he moves. Confident and graceful, yet so broad and strong.

“Have you tried adjusting her shoeing?” Your mind works through possible solutions as you pass by horses nickering softly. 

He shakes his head as he comes to a stop outside a stall, where a beautiful chestnut filly pokes her head over the door.

“Not yet. I wanted your opinion first,” he says softly. “This is Daisy.”

You reach out, stroking the filly’s velvet nose. She snuffles in your hand, looking for a treat. “Smart move. Let’s take a look at her movement.”

Marcus leads the horse out into the aisle. His strong hands handle the young horse gently. The filly prances, eager to be out of her enclosure, and Marcus smiles as she nuzzles his shoulder.

“Easy, girl,” his deep voice soothes.

You watch as he walks her up and down the aisle, your trained eye catching the slight hitch in her left hind leg. Barely noticeable to anybody else but you and Marcus.

“I see what you mean. It’s subtle,” you say, biting your lower lip in concentration. You move closer, running your hand down the horse’s leg. “It could become a problem. Let’s take her outside. I want to see her move on the arena ground.”

He guides the filly out into one of the smaller practice grounds.

“Let’s see her trot.”

Marcus nods, urging the filly into a smooth trot. Her hooves kick up small clouds of dust as she moves. You watch intently, noticing every nuance.

“There,” you point. “I see it.”

He brings Daisy to a halt, his brows furrowed in concentration. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You approach the two of them. “Here, feel this,” you say, rubbing your hand along her hip. “There’s tension in the muscle.”

He reaches over, his large hand brushing against yours as he feels the spot. His brows furrow in concentration, trying to locate what you feel.

“I’m not sure I…” he begins, his confused voice trailing off.

You place your hand over his without thinking, guiding it along Daisy’s flank. Something sparks against your skin when it presses on his, sending a shiver down your spine. Your hand looks so small above his large one.

“Do you feel that?” you ask softly, pressing his fingers gently into the muscle. “There’s a slight knot here. I think that’s causing her to favor.”

He leans closer, his chest nearly meeting your back as he concentrates. You can feel his warm, steady breath on your neck–it heats your body, a feeling for him that you’ve been trying to push away revealing itself.

Daisy shifts, causing you to stumble slightly.

Marcus's strong arm instinctively wraps around your waist to steady you.

"Careful," he whispers, his deep voice rumbling through you.

Your head turns to thank him, but the words catch in your throat. He’s so close, his face mere inches away from yours. From this distance, you can see the flecks of gold shine through the dark of his eyes.

He glances down at your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

You clear your throat, stepping back slightly.

“Thanks,” you manage to say, your voice breathless.

He nods, his hand lingering on your waist a beat longer before dropping away.

“No problem,” he says, his voice gruffer than usual.

You take a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves.

“So… it’s not as bad as I feared. I think targeted massage sessions and stretching exercises could help. Maybe adjust her shoeing too, just to be safe."

Relief washes over his face. “Good to hear. Was worried we might have to retire her before she even got started.”

You smile at his obvious care for the horse.

You feel Marcus’s eyes on you as you continue to examine the horse and coo softly as she nuzzles your hand.

“Other than that, she’s perfect,” you admire, turning to him.

“She is,” he says, his eyes focused on you.

—-

“Great future ahead of her,” you say, breaking the silence as you and Marcus lead Daisy back to the stables.

He nods. “Thanks to your expertise.”

The warmth in his voice sends a flutter through your heart, and you quickly look away, focusing on the path ahead. Approaching the stables, movement in the nearby arena catches your eye. Lucius is there, leading his horse over a series of jumps as they move in perfect rhythm. You stop in your tracks when Lucius’s blue eyes meet yours and he flashes you a smile.

Marcus realizes your pause, turning towards you. Lucius’s eyes shift to Marcus, his expression faltering for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. He brings his horse to a halt, patting its neck as he watches you both. Even from this distance, you can see the tightness in his jaw and the slight furrow of his brow.

You nod towards him, offering a slight smile before heading for the stables. The air between you and Marcus tenses again. The rest of the walk is silent, save for the sound of hoof and boot steps.

You can feel his eyes on you as you open the horse’s stall.

After a long silence, Marcus clears his throat and asks directly, "How did Lucius do out there?"

You turn to face him, surprised by the question. His eyes search your face for any hint of your thoughts.

“He’s… talented,” you admit carefully. “So are you.”

Marcus nods, his expression unreadable as he leads the filly into her stall. He secures the latch, then turns to face you, his dark eyes intense.

"Lucius is flashy," he says, his voice low.

You raise an eyebrow at his comment. “Flashy, huh?”

He slowly nods. “All style, very little room for substance. He’s good, just… all about the show.”

“I guess everyone has their own style. I’d say you have a certain style that works well for you, too.”

A small smile lifts the corner of his lips. “High praise.”

You laugh, the sound easing some of the tension. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

With one last pat against the horse’s neck, Marcus closes the stall door and turns towards you, closer than you expected.

“I really appreciate you looking her over.”

“Of course. It’s my job to make sure they’re in top form.”

He takes a step closer. “You’re the best around.” His voice turns soft. “Truly.”

Stuttering, you try to find the words, overwhelmed by how close and handsome he is. You clear your throat, taking a step back from him.

"Well, I should probably get going. It's getting late."

Marcus nods, his expression unreadable. "Of course. Thank you again for your help."

As you turn to leave, Lucius enters the stables, leading his horse. His eyes flick between you and Marcus, a hint of tension in his shoulders.

“Heading out so soon?" Lucius asks.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Got some paperwork waiting for me back at the clubhouse.”

“The glamorous life of a horse breeder,” Lucius teases.

“Someone’s gotta do it,” you shrug noncommittally, trying to dissipate some of the growing tension. “I’ll see you guys later.”

As you make your way towards the stables’ exit, you feel both men’s eyes on you.

The gravel crunches beneath your boots, and you can’t help but look back. You catch a glimpse of Marcus and Lucius, their heads bent close in conversation.

Two men, both the top competitors in their field, always pitted against each other. The young and brash Lucius Verus, with his charming smile and devil-may-care ways, versus the dependable champion Marcus Acacius, with his quiet intensity. 

And you. Trapped in the midst of their rivalry, both in and out of the arena.

You shake your head, attempting to knock those thoughts aside as you step into Foxglove’s clubhouse. Leather and polished wood surround you. You’re used to the look and smell—old money—as a few members linger in the lounge.

You make your way to your office, your boot steps echoing in the empty hallway. Settling behind your desk, your mind replays today–the way Marcus’s skin felt against yours, the way Lucius looked at you. Two very different men, but both have captured your heart and mind equally.

Marcus, with his quiet strength and deep understanding of horses. Sometimes you think he knows them better than he knows people. You’ve always admired his dedication, the way he commands every second in the arena.

And then there’s Lucius, with his quick-witted ways and charming flirtation. He lights up any room he enters, drawing everyone—including you—in with his magnetic personality.

You let out a heavy breath and rub your temples. Now is not the time to be distracted by them. You have work to do.

Pulling out the files on your latest breeding project, you immerse yourself in the bloodlines and genetic potential. This right here is where you thrive–in the world of planned pairings and creating future champions, not being caught in the middle of some fierce competition between two champion horse jumpers.

—-

The next morning, you bring out a thick folder containing the breeding profile of the stallion that will arrive soon at the stables. You’re deep in concentration, your finger tracing over the names of past champions, when a soft knock at your office door startles you. Looking up, you see Marcus standing in the doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says after nervously clearing his throat. “I wanted to thank you again for your help with Daisy yesterday.”

You smile, gesturing for him to come in. “No need to thank me. I’m glad it was good news.”

He steps in, closing the door behind him. Your office suddenly feels much smaller. “Still… I appreciate it.”

A flush creeps up your neck at his praise. “Anytime,” your voice breaks as you respond.

His hand taps against his leg as he tries to find the right words. He takes a deep breath, his dark brown eyes meeting yours. “I was wondering if…” he starts, his low voice hesitant.

“Yes?” you gently prompt, your heart racing.

He takes a step closer to your desk, his thick finger brushing against the polished wood. “I was hoping that maybe we could—”

RING

The shrill ring of your work phone soars through the air, cutting through the thick tension of it. You jump, startled by its intrusion. Marcus’s face falls slightly as you reach for the receiver.

"Foxglove Downs, this is Sunny," you answer, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice.

“Sunny, it’s George,” your head groom says, his tone serious. “The new stallion just arrived. He’s a beaut, but he’s giving the handlers a bit of trouble.”

Your eyes widen with excitement and concern. “I’ll be right there.”

You hang up the phone and turn your attention back to Marcus. “The new stallion just got here, he’s being a bit difficult. I need to get down there to help George.”

Marcus nods. “I’ll come with you. You might need an extra set of hands.”

You smile at him, quickly gathering your things and hurrying out of the office. You jog across the grounds, Marcus following close behind. Approaching the stables, you can hear the commotion–sharp whinnying of an agitated horse screeches beyond the wooden walls.

Rounding the corner, you see him—a beautiful black stallion. He rears up, his front hooves pawing at the air as two handlers struggle to control him. His nostrils flare, eyes wild with fear and confusion.

“Easy there, big guy. It’s alright,” you soothe, gently stepping forward.

The horse’s ears prick forward at the sound of your voice. He shifts nervously from side to side. The handlers look relieved to see you.

"He's been like this since we got him off the trailer," one of them explains as he holds the lead rope.

You nod, keeping your eyes on the horse. "Let's give him some space," you say calmly. "Everyone back up slowly."

The stallion’s eyes dart between you and the now-retreating handlers–his breathing still rapid, his eyes still wild.

“That’s it,” you comfort, taking a small step forward. “No one’s going to hurt you, boy.”

“Be careful,” Marcus whispers behind you.

Nodding slightly, you continue your slow approach. The horse snorts, tossing his head. "You're safe here. Just relax.”

The stallion’s breathing begins to slow as you come close enough to touch him. You slowly extend your hand to him with your palm up, and he stretches his neck to sniff you.

"Hey there, handsome," you croon. "No one's going to hurt you. You're safe here." He bumps his nose against your palm and you smile, gently stroking his face. “That’s a good boy.”

Everyone relaxes as the horse calms under your care, his wild eyes softening as you gently take hold of his lead rope and coo in his ear.

“Let’s get you settled in, shall we?” you say softly to the horse. You turn to Marcus, his eyes watching you with something like awe and admiration. “Can you walk on his other side? Just in case?”

Marcus nods, moving to the horse’s left as you begin to lead him towards the stables. His hooves hit the ground in a calm cadence–no longer frantic, he follows you willingly. His earlier panic subsided under your gentle touch.

As you lead the horse into the stables, you can feel Marcus’s eyes on you.

“What happened out there—that was incredible,” he says. “I’ve never seen anyone calm a horse like that before.”

You smile and give the stallion a pat before closing the stall door. “Patience and understanding. He was scared, that’s all. They can sense when you’re nervous or afraid.”

You stroke the velvet of the stallion’s muzzle as you feed him a handful of oats. You turn to Marcus, curiosity getting the better of you. "So, what did you want to talk about earlier?

“Yes… it’s about Daisy. I, uh, was wondering if you’d like to help me rehab her? You knew so much about her condition, and I... I trust you.”

His nervousness and his request touch you, warmth spreading through your chest. “Of course. I’d be honored to help,” you say with a smile. “Daisy has so much potential.”

His face lights up, a rare full grin lighting his usually serious features. “Great. Does tomorrow morning work, if you’re free?”

“Absolutely,” you nod.

“So… it’s a date then?” His eyebrows rise. “I mean, it’s uh—”

You smile. “It’s a date.”

—-

Next Chapter

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

I need more cowboy! Wanda thoughts

i am here with cowboy Wanda thoughts... I've been playing too much red dead redemption II and I am plagued by cowboy thoughts

She likes to take you on long rides, enjoying the feel of your hands around her waist. Sometimes she urges her horse to go faster just so she can feel your fingers digging into her as you grasp at her hips and shirt to stay on the saddle.

She has two ropes, one for her everyday lasso, and one thats just for you. Her everyday one is brown and scratchy, some parts of it worn from the years of use. Yours is soft, the rope black and nondescript and oh so beautiful when it's wrapped around your wrists and tied to a tree.

Speaking of trees and nature, Wanda has a raging kink for fucking you outdoors in some secluded area. She lovingly ties your hands together, the thrill of "being caught" sending pools of wetness to gather in your soaked underwear.

Wanda almost always packs underneath her jeans, her bulge grinding against you whenever she pulls you in by your belt loops. She'll turn you around with your hands tied to the tree, your fingernails scraping the bark as your knees lose power from how rough she's fucking you from behind.

The only sounds in the forest are the occasional bird call or squirrel chatter, mixed with the sound of your desperate moans and Wanda's hips smacking against yours while she pumps her strap deeper inside you, her words whispering filthy things in your ear.

Sometimes, she'll even cut you free, her knife glinting in the glow of a setting sun as you pull your pants up and stare at her with wide eyes. Her smile is a bit too sharp, her eyes sparkling as she tells you to run.

You do, running as far as you can, knowing it's all in vain and Wanda will come riding up behind you with a careless whistle and a strong rope to lasso you in as she ties you up and fucks you harshly on the forest floor, pine needles and soft soil imprinted on your knees as she tells you that you'll never be able to escape her.

Oh god I- this is toooooo good i'm drooling and now i gotta go write down a few one shot ideas

[seasaltdevotion]

King Poseidon appreciation post!

I feel He is often very under appreciated, misunderstood (thanks myth literalism 😒) and just… not talked about enough. So it’s my job, legally, to yap about Him.

Epithets

Poseidon Asphalios - Secures Safe Voyage

Poseidon Basileus - King/Lord

Poseidon Domatites - Of the House

Poseidon Epoptes - Overseer/Watcher

Poseidon Gaieochos - Holder of the Earth | Poseidon Ennosigaios - Shaker of the Earth

Poseidon Genesios - The Father | Poseidon Genethlios - Of Kin/Kindered

Poseidon Hippios - Of the Horses | Poseidon Hippokourios - Horse Tender

Poseidon Laoites- Of the People

Poseidon Patrus - Ancestral Father

Poseidon Pelagaios - Of the Sea/Marine

Poseidon Phytalmios - Plant Nurturer

Poseidon Prosclystius - Who Dashes Against

General Information

Most people know Poseidon as the god of the ocean, but of course when looking at his epithets, he is the god of fathers/fatherhood, of the house, horses, earthquakes, and even the nurturing of plants.

His Family

He is married to Amphitrite, Queen of the Oceans. They have a son together Triton.

He is also known to be the father of Aeolus, of the winds, Despoena goddess of specific Arkadian Mysteries, and Proteus, an elderly god seal herder.

Some other offspring of note include: Charybdis the giantess whirlpool who is mothered by Gaia, Polyphemus the cyclops born of Sea Nymph Thoosa, and Thesus an Athenian hero born of Aithra.

His Symbols/Attributes

Obviously, the trident is His main symbol.

His sacred animals consisted of bulls, horses, and dolphins. Being the god of the ocean other sea creatures were also used in reference to Him.

Plants related to Him are pine trees and wild celery!

Homeric Hymn to Poseidon - Hymn 22

“I begin to sing about Poseidon, the great good, mover of the earth and fruitless sea, god of the deep who is also lord of Helkion, and wide Aegae. O Shaker of the Earth, to be a tamer of horses and savior of ships! Hail Poseidon Holder of the Earth, dark-haired lord! O blessed one, be kindly in heart and help those who voyage in ships!”

Orphic Hymn to Poseidon - Hymn 17

"Hear, Poseidon, ruler of the sea profound, whose liquid grasp begirds the solid ground; who, at the bottom of the stormy main, dark and deep-bosomed holdest they watery reign. Thy awful hand the brazen trident bears, and sea's utmost bound thy will reveres. Thee I invoke, whose steeds the foam divide, from whose dark locks the briny waters glide; shoe voice, loud sounding through the roaring deep, drives all its billows in a raging heap; when fiercely riding through the boiling sea, thy hoarse command the trembling waves obey. Earth-shaking, dark-haired God, the liquid plains, the third division, fate to thee ordains. 'Tis thine, cerulean daimon, to survey, well-pleased, the monsters of the ocean play. Confirm earth's basis, and with prosperous gales waft ships along, and swell the spacious sails; add gentle peace, and fair-haired health beside, and pour abundance in a blameless tide."

Poseidon & Myths

I’m someone who is big on how terrible Myth Literalism is. Poseidon is not his myths. No god is their myths.

Myths are stories that teach lessons, nothing more. He is not some terrible god or mean man. So imma get into my experience with Him!

Poseidon to Me

Poseidon has a very fatherly energy to Him, and I attribute that to His fatherly epithets as well as His many children.

At times His presence is very soft and gentle. Like a tender pat on the back for a job well done. A warm laugh of an enthused fatherly figure. Other times it can almost be suffocating. A tight chest pressure and weight on your shoulders, the gaze of a disappointed father.

However, He always means well.

Why pray to Poseidon?

Poseidon came to me while I was researching epithets, actually looking to see if there were any fatherly epithets. I was in the middle of combing through King Zeus’s epithets before I my brain focused on Poseidon. Writing Zeus’s list, all I could think about was checking Poseidon’s even though I wasn’t finished with my previous one. So I checked. Surprise surprise.

Since then I have consistently prayed to Him for things you’d ask a father for. Advice, comfort, just… His presence. All of which He provides. I live inland so I don’t see the ocean, but I spend plenty of time playing in rivers or lakes occasionally. I thank Him and King Zeus for the rain. I love horses, so I research them and learn about them. I thank Him purely for their beauty and existence.

Even if their domain doesn’t fully involve you, you can still worship a god. And it’s still so gratifying.

Ty for coming to my Poseidon Ted-talk. I just adore Him a lot and decided He needed a post on my page solely dedicated to teaching people about Him.

[tightjeansjavi]

My Joel,

A/N: I have not written a fic with this many words in a HOT minute, and boy does it feel good! What a cathartic experience this has been for me after writing Joel’s letters. I did not expect so many of you to want Joel and his dearest to have an alternative ending, but here we are 🤭 writing this has been a real treat, and I hope I have done their backstory and alternative ending justice! Buckle up, because you’re in for a wild ride! Thank you to @beardedjoel for letting me spam you with all the updates and screaming along with me 🥹 thank you to @strang3lov3 for betaing and creating these STUNNING divider mood boards for each section of the fic 💘

~word count: 14.4k~

Summary: the story of two forbidden lovers finding each other once more.

Pairing | forbidden lover!joel x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, infertility, canon typical violence, mutual pining, child abuse, mentions of S/A accusations (not by Joel) misogyny (not by Joel) homophobia/homophobic slurs (not by Joel) mutual pining, hopeless romantics, forbidden love, societal status, somewhat historically accurate language, arranged marriage (not to Joel), language, mentions of alcohol and tobacco products, virginity/virginity loss, happy ending/alternative ending, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

My Dearest,

June 1st, 1844

“This evening you are to meet the banker's son, daughter.” Your mother’s sickly sweet voice floated through your room, where you sat along the cushioned bench beneath the long window, your palm resting along your chin as you gazed out towards the gardens, the grass an unnatural shade of green compared to the common folk and farmers that would only dream of stepping foot on your family's estate. Your wealth was directly a result of your fathers parents, and their long lineage of thoroughbred horses. Your own mare was a descendant of the original three stallions imported into England in the late 1600’s.

But you were more focused on the man leading your mare, and her two stallions flocking at her hindquarters from the pasture: your Joel.

Joel Miller was a mere stable hand who was entrusted by your father himself to care for your family's prized horses. But to you? Joel was much more than just a stable hand. In fact, you begged your father one summer to increase Joel’s pay when he proved to be knowledgeable with the horses and their needs. Your father agreed, but refused to dote Joel with a new title. He was penniless compared to you, but you saw his heart before you saw his status in society. And he? He loved you from the moment you first met.

-

Spring, 1839

“Sir, sir!” A young Joel, 13 years of age burst into your fathers parlor, his hand-me-down clothes were soaked to the bone as the storm raged on outside the estate walls. “Dahlia’s womb has breached! Her foal is on the way!” He exclaimed with excitement.

Outside of your families prized stallions, the mares were just as valuable, bearing the next line of champions, no doubt. Dahlia belonged to your mother, and this was her third foal. Your mother couldn’t stand the presence of Joel in her home, dripping all over the floor, creating a puddle of water along the artisan rug beneath his muddy boots.

“Boy!” She snapped, setting her book down along her skirts where she was sitting near the fireplace, with perfect posture. Her eyes held a cold, unnerving stare. “You are in no state to be in my home looking like—” her pointed comment was cut off by the double doors leading to the parlor bursting open, to reveal your excited, and visibly out of breath face.

“Dahlia’s foal is on the way?!”

It was past your bedtime, but down the hall you heard the news of Dahlia, and couldn’t contain yourself. You were still in your nightgown, your hair in braids with bows tied into the ends. Joel felt a flush immediately rise to his damp cheeks at the sight of you. You were as pretty as a flower, the same age as him, and he wondered why this was the first time he’s seen you, till he remembered that most girls your age spent their days indoors preparing for marriage to a suitable husband of their fathers choosing, and inevitably bearing children down the line.

Just as quickly as his gaze fell upon you, he looked away, clearing his throat to hide the redness rising in his cheeks.

“Daughter!” Your mother scolded you when you rushed into the room and didn’t curtsy upon your arrival. She had yet to notice the bows in your hair when you quickly curtsied, fingers delicately grasping the hem of your nightgown as you bent down at the waist, one foot in front of the other just as it was ingrained into your brain for years. “Apologies, mother.” You softly squeaked out in embarrassment.

She shook her head, a displeasured look fell upon her hardened features. She rose from the couch, silk shawl clenched in her fist as she crossed the room and draped the garment across your shoulders. “Cover up your modesty.” She snapped unkindly. “Men should never see a lady in her night garments.”

I am not a lady, mother. I am a child! Is what you wanted to say, but instead you weakly nodded, muttering another apology under your breath. That’s when your mother took notice of your braids and the bows tied at the ends of them, a sign of innocent youth when you were to become a woman. She scoffed, nose upturning at the sight of them. Her cruel hand rose and fell, landing harshly against your soft cheek.

Joel visibly flinched from the sound, feeling his blood begin to boil under his soaked clothing. You had done nothing wrong! And who in their right mind slaps their own child!

Your skin stung, tears welling and nearly breaching down your cheeks when she yanked the bows from your braids and mockingly held them in front of your face. “These are for little girls. You are to become a woman, or have you forgotten?”

Your lower lip wobbled, and your knees trembled. Your eyes frantically searched the room, landing upon your father who paid no mind to your distress. He was too busy puffing away on his cigar, and even if he didn’t agree with his wife’s treatment upon you, he didn’t dare speak up about it.

“Joel, be a good lad and fetch my daughters coat. I will not be treading out in a storm such as that one, but someone from our family should be present for the birth of Dahlias foal.” He gruffed out. “Let us hope for a strong colt. There are too many fillies prancing around here.”

“Sir—” Joel started, but was cut off.

“Fetch her coat, and do not make me ask you a third time, boy.” He sternly reiterated.

“Yes, sir. Right away!” He nodded, quickly turning on his heel and exited the parlor, his eyes met your teary-eyed one briefly before he disappeared behind the open doors.

“Our daughter has no business going out in this storm, husband! Especially not with the likes of that—boy.” She seethed, stepping back from your trembling frame and walked in the direction of the fire, the now crumpled bows in her fist. She wasted no time to throw them directly into flames, watching as they were burnt up into ash immediately.

“Relax, wife.” Your father sighed, tapping out the ash from his cigar into the crystal ashtray along the table, “she is in good hands with Joel, I trust him.”

“Excuse me, miss?” a timid, youth filled voice appeared behind your shoulder, hand outstretched with your coat grasped between his fingers.

You sniffled, turning to face him and quickly wiped at your brewing tears with the back of your hand. “Thank you, Joel.” You whispered, fingers brushing his gently as you removed your coat from his grasp.

He nearly shied from your touch, a series of tingles and sparks shooting up his spine when he felt your soft touch for the first time. You reacted all the same; shocked gazes meeting before he was stepping to the side for you to pass by him first, a gentleman in nature despite coming from nothing. He cleared his throat, offering you his elbow to brace against the pounding rain and blustering winds. “I’ve got you, miss.” He whispered as your palm gently rested along the crook of his elbow.

Despite your mother’s incessant protests, Joel Miller guided you outside, acting as a physical shield as you endured the storm together. Once inside the safety of the barn, Joel parted from your side, grabbing a nearby stool for you to sit upon before entering Dahlia’s stall. You watched in pure curiosity and amazement as Joel spoke softly to the mare while her head rested in his lap. Beast trusted man; man trusted beast.

When Dahlia’s foal was born, she was not blessed with a strong colt like your father hoped for, but instead a filly. She was smaller than Dahlia’s other foals, and coal black unlike her mother’s dazzling, dappled silver coat. Joel helped the young filly stand on her long, spindly legs so that she could nurse. He was incredibly gentle, letting the filly lean her weight into him. Although Joel knew he was not allowed to name the horses, he started to call the filly ‘Little Shadow’ and only left the stall when he was certain she could stand on her own.

That’s when he remembered he wasn’t alone, and that you were still sitting upon the stool, hands clasped in your lap.

“Wanna meet her?” He suddenly asked, wiping his hands down on a nearby towel.

“Oh…” you trailed off, “I’m unsure if—”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, a small, boy-like grin tugging on his lips. “M’sure your father would want you to have the full experience, would he not?”

“Yes, I suppose he would.” You agreed and graciously took his hand when he offered it. “He will be displeased to hear that Dahlia did not bear a strong colt.”

“I never understood that.” He mused, helping you down from the stool and gently released your hand. “A healthy foal, no matter the sex, is better than an unhealthy one, is it not?”

“Yes, this is true.” You nervously toyed with a loose thread on your coat, avoiding making eye contact with him. “She is…small though, is she not?”

He took no offense to your lack of direct eye contact. He felt undeserving to be in your presence, let alone hold your gaze? “Forgive me if this comes across negatively, miss. But must you always speak so…proper?”

You turned your nose up at his question, dropping the loose thread from your fingertips, “I am to be a lady, Joel. This is how ladies talk.”

He snorted under his breath, shaking his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I suppose you are right. And to answer your question, she may be smaller than the rest of Dahlia’s offspring, but her legs are long, and strong.” He commented thoughtfully as he walked over to the nursing foal. “She will be a winner one day, no doubt.”

“Do you wish to name her, Joel?” You asked softly, standing alongside him with your hand outstretched to gently pet the fillies jet black neck.

“Oh, miss—I could never. I was only calling her Little Shadow because well, she is like a Little Shadow.”

“I don’t think father would approve of Little Shadow…but I think Shadow is a fine name for her, sir.”

“Miss, I am not a sir.” He sighed, reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck. “I’m just a stable hand. I do not possess any titles, and I never will. I agree, Shadow is a fine name for her.”

“Joel, I have heard that you are more than just a stable hand, but I address every man as sir. It’s how I have been taught.”

He looked over at you, eyes scanning the side of your face, the same side where your cheek had been struck by your mothers cruel hand. “That it be true, I am not a man, miss. I am just a boy.”

Silence fell between the two of you while you continued to gently stroke Shadow’s neck. You could feel Joel’s gaze landing on your cheek, but you chose to ignore it despite the heat that was slowly beginning to rise to your cheeks.

“Miss…?” He sounded unsure of himself, nervous, apprehensive of the words he was about to speak next,

“Yes, Joel?”

“Forgive me, I should not be uttering these words to a lady like yourself, but the bows in your hair…I thought they were quite—pretty.” He whispered the last bit, expecting you to scold him, to scream, and surely send him to the gallows for even thinking of you in that inappropriate manner, but instead, you smiled softly.

“Thank you, Joel. Mother…doesn’t approve of them. Says they are for little girls, and not for a lady to be. But they are just ribbons, are they not? I like how they look, and I wish she did too.” You sighed, eyes casting downwards.

He was more bold this time around as the images of your mothers hand making contact with your soft cheek flashes in his mind, “she should have never laid a hand upon you like that, miss. You did nothing wrong! Forgive me—I have forgotten my place.” He dropped his chin between his shoulders in shame.

You wept then, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the phantom sting of your mothers palm. You slowly sank down into the straw bed, head in your hands. You looked so small, frail, weak, and Joel never wanted you to feel this way again.

At first he didn’t know how to react to your distress, but soon he found himself sinking down to his knees in front of you, his hands trembling as he reached out to grasp your covered shoulders, “my dearest, do not weep, please. Your mother has never learned kindness in her life, but you? You—” he struggled to find his words, his empathetic nature coming out in full swing.

You slowly tilted your chin upwards to meet his gaze, glassy eyes boring into his. You both took a sharp inhale of breath, time seemed to cease completely. The storm outside raged on, the wind whipped and howled outside the heavy barn doors when Joel Miller’s calloused palms gently cradled your face, thumbs brushing away your glistening tears.

1842

Spring turned to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter. Your Joel transformed into a man before your very eyes. In your youth he showed you how to run, to make mud pies, to swim in the river, despite your mothers disapproval. Your father showed an inkling of care to allow your years before marriage to be spent with Joel by your side.

On the approach of your sixteenth birthday, Joel Miller no longer looked like a boy in your eyes. He was a man, and for the first time in your life, you felt that forbidden part between your thighs come alive at the sight of him. He had grown taller, his arms filling in, paired with strong thighs. The muscles in his back and shoulders were defined with laborious hours of work. His chiseled jaw was speckled with facial hair, paired with unruly curls that you wished you could feel their softness between your fingers. You found yourself transfixed by his lips and often imagined how they would feel pressed to yours in a heated embrace. The only thing about your Joel that didn’t change with age was his eyes; the deepest pools of brown that always appeared lighter when he was graced with your presence.

Your father treated him like a son, inviting him out on the weekends to go fox hunting with your brothers. The prospect of attending college was even on the horizon for him, and Joel could taste his new life brewing on his tongue. His feelings grew for you over the years, feeling his heart flutter and clench whenever you would look his way. Even in your modest attire, he envisioned your womanly figure beneath your layers of tooled skirts. Every night before he laid his body to sleep, he would imagine your lips pressing to his own until the thought of it had begun to drive him mad.

So upon your sixteenth birthday, he approached your father in his office with only one thought on his mind; asking for your fathers permission, and blessing to court, and eventually marry you.

“Come in.” Your father’s voice rasped behind the closed door.

Joel took a deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms along the front of his trousers, bringing one hand up to smooth down his untamed curls. His calloused palm grasped the brass handle and slowly pushed it open.

Your father was seated behind his desk, cigar smoke wafting through the air in a swirling pattern from where it rested between his lips. He looked at Joel expectantly, arms crossed behind his head in a lax position. “Joel, my boy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him softly. He momentarily glanced out a large window overlooking the gardens where in just a few hours, your party would be in full swing. “Good afternoon, sir.” He nodded curtly, “beautiful day we’re having, yes? The weather will be exceptional for your daughter's birthday this evening.”

My Dearest.

“Yes, indeed. The weather has been lovely.” Your father mused. “If you’re asking if you can attend tonight’s festivities, you already know my answer, Joel. The lady of the house wouldn’t stand for it.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“Yes, of course, sir. I won’t be on the grounds this evening. A few friends have invited me to the tavern for drinks. I won’t be out late, I swear it.”

“I see.” Your father nodded, “a handsome young man such as yourself oughta get out there more.” He agreed, “So, what are you here for then?”

Shit.

“Sir, I have—known your daughter for many years now, as you are aware. I am also aware that she has many suitors lined up to offer her hand in marriage, but sir, if I was given your blessing, and permission, I would—”

“Joel.” Your father’s tone cut through the younger man like a sharpened blade. “My daughter has already been promised to another. Do not take me for a fool, boy. I have seen the way your gaze lingers on her longer than what would even be described as appropriate. I see the way she looks at you, Joel. I have bit my tongue on this matter because I happen to like you, son. What I can offer you is another lady, at your choosing. You can live a happy, comfortable life and hold a title that you would never otherwise possess. My suggestion is that you accept my generous offer, and throw away your fantasy of ever marrying my daughter.”

Joel swallowed his disappointment down with a heavy gulp. He was naive to believe that he could ever be granted with your fathers blessing. How foolish of him to believe that a man such as himself, would ever end up with the likes of you. It was a fantasy, an unattainable dream that he was better off extinguishing now instead of dwelling on what could never be. He nodded slowly, trying to ignore the way his heart submerged to the very pits of his stomach. “I understand, sir.” He finally spoke.

“Good lad. I knew you were a smart one from the start. Now, this stays between you and I, alright?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. You didn’t hear this from me, but the lady of the house plans to retire early this evening. If you see the opportunity to whisk my daughter away for one evening, take it. If it sours, do not even think about taking me down with you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Sir?” Joel sounded confused, his eyes going wide momentarily, “I’m confused—”

“Treat my daughter to a night that she will never forget, so that in her later years, when she is in misery after bearing her husband's children, and finds herself in a loveless marriage, she will have her memories of you to look back on. Do not, and I mean by any means, get caught and throw your life away so foolishly.”

“I—I understand, sir.” He stuttered out, his heart lurching in his chest at the prospect of one evening with you in his embrace. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.” He gushed earnestly.

“Leave now, Joel. Do not speak of this to anyone.”

“I won’t, sir. I promise.”

-

All evening you danced merrily and socialized with the upper socialites of Texas with a fake smile plastered on your pretty painted lips. You searched high and low for your Joel all evening. Your gaze lingered, heart skipping a beat anytime a man that resembled him would stride past, only to be met with bitter disappointment when they would turn their cheek towards you and the resemblance would dissipate like the bubbles in your champagne flute. Your mother had retired for the evening, and your father was in his parlor with his colleagues, smoking, drinking, and playing hands of poker.

And then you felt a presence brush past your bare shoulder, the skirts of your dress ruffling in the warm summer breeze. A shred of parchment was placed into your palm discreetly as you watched the inconspicuous figure disappear in the direction of the nearby stables. Once you were certain no one was paying any attention to you, you unfolded parchment, your heart surging at the familiar penmanship.

My Dearest,

Happy sixteenth birthday. Meet me at the stables in exactly one hour.

Your Joel

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the butterflies erupted and fluttered wildly in your stomach, Your Joel. You brought the parchment to your lips, kissing his words, your lashes fluttering shut.

As the minutes ticked by, your excitement heightened, and when it was ten minutes to the hour, you snuck off to the stables with a visible pep in your step. The barn door was left ajar upon your entering, and when you turned the corner, you found your Joel inside of Shadow’s stall, bows and flowers were braided delicately throughout her luscious mane and tail. When he sensed your presence, he turned around, the biggest grin plastered on his face, dimples peeking through, one stray curl falling across his forehead that was begging to be brushed away by your soft fingertips.

“Joel.” You breathed out, smile mimicking his own.

“My Dearest.” His heart surged in his chest, and then you were launching yourself into his arms unexpectedly. He caught you, of course, hugging you tightly to his broad frame. “No one saw you, right?”

“No.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands fell to your waist. “Shadow looks beautiful! What’s the occasion?”

He chuckled warmly, tilting his forehead to rest upon yours with a sigh of relief, “she doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as you, darlin.’ And why for your birthday, of course!”

His warm, timbre laugh sent your stomach somersaulting, and your mind feeling dizzy. “An evening ride through the countryside, is that my present from you?” You teased him lightly, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“No, no, my sweet. It’s actually…a surprise. Are you up for it? Oh! You’ll be needing these, however.” He reluctantly departed from your embrace, stepping off to the side to lift a rucksack from the ground. “I believe they’re your size.”

You raised a curious brow as he handed the rucksack off to you. “You mean, I get an excuse to wear something outside of my fine dresses?” You gasped softly.

“Mhm.” He nodded, smile playing on his lips at your pure excitement over something so small. “I’ll uh—give you some privacy to change.” He cleared his throat, eyes dancing in the direction opposite of you as he turned on his heel so his back would be facing you.

Secretly, you wanted him to see you undress from your obnoxious layers and reveal your untouched skin to his admiring gaze. The times that you would swim in the river together were different. You were both still children, and your womanly curves hadn’t made their appearance just yet.

He silently listened to your fine skirts fall to the dusty barn floor and he was half tempted to peek, but remained respectful as you undressed. Once you gave him the okay, he slowly turned around to face you once more. Gone were your frilly heavy skirts that dragged along the floor with each step that you took. Your skirt was still long, but not as weighted and while the bodice was still fairly constricting, the sleeves were dainty and hung off the side of your shoulders like silk drapery. Your mother would certainly have a fit if she saw you dressed so un-modestly.

“So…” You trailed off, “how do I look?” You twirled on your heel, your smile never faltering.

He unashamedly looked you up and down, twice, before one strong arm looped around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, caging you against him.

“Pardon my French, mademoiselle, but you look fuckin’ stunning.”

You giggled, hands resting against his chest to brace yourself against him. It was the sweetest sound that had ever graced his ears; your laugh.

“Thank you, sir. Mother would scold me if she saw me dressed like this!” You giggled again when his nose came to nuzzle against your cheek, bristles in his beard gently scraping against your skin, “she would, my dearest. But don’t worry about any of that, okay? Tonight you will have the time of your life with me, and your mother will have no say in it.” He assured you.

—

You rode into town on horseback, Shadow moving swiftly with Joel steering her with the reins and you behind him with your arms wrapped around him, pressing yourself as close to his back as possible. You had never been to a tavern before, but tonight would certainly be a night of firsts.

Your first sips of Ale were with Joel by your side, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned over, warm breath fanning your face as he asked you what you thought about the taste.

Truthfully? Ale was not your first drink of choice, but you had an understanding for the appeal of it. Joel agreed, and whispered in your ear that he thought it tasted like shit. His tone and crude remark sent you giggling in tandem.

Now, whiskey on the other hand? You enjoyed the smoky flavor that lingered on your tongue and the way it instantly sent a warm fire simmering in your belly, and heat to flood your cheeks. You danced, laughed, drank and you even played a hand of poker! No one in the tavern knew of your status, your wealth. Everyone in the rowdy establishment was just there living, and you silently wished for your life to always be this freeing.

When the tavern closed for the night, you and Joel strolled down the street, hand in hand. The late evening air held that familiar summer sweetness, crickets chirping, fireflies dancing around your heads. Another pair of lovers strolled in front of you and Joel, seemingly unable to keep their hands off of one another as they neared the town inn. Would that be you and your Joel?

His palm felt clammy in your palm, but his face gave no distinction that he was absolutely freaking the fuck out inside at the prospect of finally getting the privilege to press his lips to yours.

“Shadow is staying at the inn’s barn for the evening, my dearest. It’s far too late for either of us to return back to the estate…” he trailed off, eyes casting in your direction to await your response.

“Joel…” you sighed, loosening your grip around his hand, nearly dropping it entirely. “We—we have to go back. Father, mother—”

“My dearest, your mother has retired early for the evening, and your father is probably too deep in a hand of poker to even notice your absence.” He spoke softly, slowly bringing your entwined fingers up to his face, illuminated in a soft, warm glow from the flickering street lights lining the walkway. He brushed his lips against the outside of your hand, eyes locking onto yours, “I understand if you don’t desire me the way I desire you, my dearest. And if that is the case, we can leave immediately—”

“I—I desire you plenty, my Joel. All evening at the party, I kept seeing the resemblance of your beautiful face in every male passerby, but none of them were you. I’m just—I’m so afraid, Joel. My heart—it feels so deeply for you, but it’s forbidden. You and I both know the bitter truth of what we can never be.”

“My dearest, tonight we need not be afraid, okay? It is your birthday, your special day, and there is nowhere else in this world that I would rather be, than here with you. I ask you for nothing, only to trust me. Trust your Joel.”

You could feel yourself caving into his words, your body drawn to be closer to him as if by some invisible force pulling you into his chest. “I trust you always, my Joel.”

He nodded, pressing another sweet kiss to the outside of your hand. You moved in sync, his strong, broad body caging you against the brick wall of the inn, his hands, calloused and warm, holding your face between them as if you were fine delicate china. His forehead came to rest upon yours, warm breath fanning your face, “can I kiss you, my dearest?”

“Please, my Joel.” You breathed out, fingers gently resting along the nape of his neck. “You—you will be my first.” You whispered.

“And you will be mine, my dearest.” He rasped, thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones, feeling his heartbeat faster, and faster, when his lips finally brushed upon your own, both of your inexperience showing, but nature took over when your lips finally met, pressing against one another. Your breath hitched in your throat, fingers tightening around his soft curls, pulling him in closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin, make a home inside of his heart and never leave.

“I—have never felt a sweetness upon my lips till I have kissed you, my dearest.” He murmured sweetly against your locked lips, taking the leap of what felt right when your lips parted like the narrow sea for him to slowly lick into your mouth so your tongues could meet, and dance.

An unexpected moan slipped past your lips when he licked into your mouth, a sound only for his ears, sending blood flowing southwards beneath his trousers and directly to his groin. He parted from the kiss momentarily, a string of translucent saliva hung between your swollen lips. He dived back in seconds later, but this time you felt his lips upon your neck, sucking, kissing, licking at your throat and all the way back up to your lips.

“I scraped up enough money to afford us a night at the inn, my dearest.” He let out a soft grunt when your nails lightly scratched his scalp, and your fingers tugged on the root of his curls, “do you wish to—”

“Yes, my Joel.” You didn’t even wait for him to finish his question, you already knew your answer was going to be yes.

He chuckled at your eagerness, letting his hands drop from your face and rest along your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, “lay beside me tonight, my love?”

“Yes, my Joel. I wish for that.”

He smiled into the kiss, the butterflies in his own stomach were no longer fluttering wildly, his nerves were gone because never in his life had he been more sure about his feelings till now. It was a moment of calm that both you and he felt in one another’s embrace. “Then let it be known that tonight, beneath the stars, I will make love to you, my dearest.” The words he spoke fell like a sweet oath upon your lips.

You kissed him once more, before your lips parted, but only for a little while. He took your hand in his, fingers entwined and led you to the entrance of the inn. The room was paid for, and the excitement was beginning to tingle once more as he unlocked the door to the room you would share. A single bed to accommodate you both.

And when he laid you down, fitting in the space between your thighs, kissing every inch of your untouched skin, drawing sounds from your throat that you had never felt, nor heard before. Calloused palms moved with languid ease, undressing you with methodical care. You did the same to him, marveling at the flex of his muscles beneath your touch. He was so gentle, so patient as you parted for him like a blooming flower. He kissed you there, too. Dark head of curls moving between your thighs, strong fingers spreading you open where his tongue quickly found the little bud that had your whole body quivering, and your back bowing, arching from the mattress.

He kissed, licked, worshiped, suckled on your womanhood, the taste of you was something so foreign, yet familiar, and his cock grew heavy between his thighs, hips rutting into the mattress for any form of relief.

Your speech was slurred, broken, fragmented moans dangling from your lips, and you were only able to say one word; his name.

Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.

And when the coil in deep within your tummy was pulled tight, and a burning warmth that could only be described as the feeling of heaven on earth, traveled from the tips of your toes and up your spine, you convulsed around his tongue, eyes rolling back into your skull, muscles spasming, your cunt pulsing, leaking along the sheets. He lapped up every sweet drop of your release, swallowing it down as if he was quenched with thirst. His eyes opened, dark pools of brown staring intensely into yours, grinning like a devil. His chin and beard glistening in your sweet nectar, illuminated by the pale moonlight casting in through the thin, billowing curtains.

He kissed up your body, finding your lips and molding his tongue around yours so you could taste yourself, too. He whispered sweet nothings between kisses when the heavy weight of his cock slowly began to press into you. Tears sprung from the sudden sharp pain caused by the stretch of him easing inside of you. He kissed away your tears, shushing you softly and promising you that it would feel good so soon, my dearest.

Your nails left crescents in his back, thighs wrapping around his waist when he was fully sheathed inside of your pulsing, hugging warmth. It was the tightest vice he ever did feel, and he never wanted to part from you.

“I’ve got you, my dearest.” He whispered upon your lips, drawing his hips back slowly, oh so slowly, before guiding them forward. The coarse dark hair on his pubic bone brushed against your own with each gentle thrust he gave you. A rhythm set in with his movements, your body naturally began to mold to his as you became one. Sweat soaked skin, tangled moans and limbs, wet kisses and words of love shared between what little space was left between you.

And when he spilled his seed deep within your womb, and he moaned your name, proclaiming his love and devotion for you with his face buried against your neck. You refused to part from one another, even as his cock softened inside of you, and your cunt no longer fluttered. You pressed your lips to his scruffy cheek, tangled your fingers through his now sweat soaked curls that were matted to his forehead and back of his neck. You held him, and he held you as the sun slowly began to rise, and the birds chirped cheerfully just outside the window.

“I don’t want to go home, my Joel. I want to stay here, with you…forever.” You whispered softly through the early morning air.

He shifted deep within you, lifting his chin and turned his cheek to the side, brushing his lips sweetly against your soft cheek. His eyes were sleepy, a dopey, boyish grin graced his features, lips curved in a perfect pout, swollen with your kisses, “I need not yet to part from you, my love. But I must return you home before your father and mother awake.”

You sighed softly, dropping your fingers from their grip on his hair to then drag across his jaw, nuzzling your nose against his and pressed a kiss to his lips, “our home, my Joel.” You gently reminded him.

He kissed you back, lashes fluttering shut to savor the moment before opening again so he could once again gaze upon your face and paint a picture in his memory to hold onto forever, “our home, my dearest.”

Reality began to rear its ugly head into both of your minds and he reluctantly parted from your kiss, drawing his hips back slowly to release his cock from your warmth. “We must return home, my dearest.” He sat back on his haunches, his softened cock wet, sticky with a mix of your combined releases and a thin layer of blood.

You slowly sat up, taking the coarse sheet with you as you gazed upon his groin for the first time. Even soft now, your sex induced eyes widened at the girth of him.

He, however, was more focused on the stain of blood on his skin, and swiped his thumb across it before his gaze landed on you, “have you…bled before, my sweet?”

You nodded, “yes, my Joel. I bleed the same time every month since my thirteenth birthday. Mother told me that it means I am ready to bear children, and I have become a woman. She told me that I would bleed again when my husband makes love to me for the first time.”

His chin falls between his shoulders, feeling them sink from the realization that he would never be your husband, and you would never be his wife. “Does it hurt…to bleed? Did I hurt you, my love?”

You shook your head, letting the sheets drop from your chest as you reached out to comfort him. “No, my love. It can be uncomfortable, but you did not hurt me. A dull sting is all I felt, nothing more. You took care of me.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently as you emerged from under the covers, “my dearest, what is to happen if…you end up bearing my children? We are both so young, I wish not to steal what remains of your youth. You deserve so much more than only what is expected of you, my lady.”

You found yourself straddling his hips with your thighs on either side of him, caging his body around yours while his arms wrapped around your waist, using his core strength to stay upright as your hands came to rest upon his face, “if I bear your children, then we could marry, Joel. We could—be together!” You spoke excitedly.

“My dearest, I—have nothing to offer you. I am penniless…we are not of the same status, and your mother and father would never allow it.” His thumbs gently stroked the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine.

“I will speak with my father! He will understand, he must! No man will ever wish to marry me if I am bearing another’s child! Father—he’ll have to agree!”

“My dearest, what if my seed doesn’t take to your womb the first time? What if we are unable—”

You cut him off with a swift kiss to his lips, pulling him in close with your hand resting along the nape of his neck, “then we keep trying till my womb is swelling with life.”

He kissed you deeply, feeling his cock begin to stir to life between your tightly pressed bodies. He nodded, a silent agreement as he dropped one hand from where it rested against your spine and dragged it between you so that he could grasp the base of his cock and slowly press himself inside of you once more.

-

By the time you and Joel arrived back at the estate, the sun was already beginning to rise high above the sky. The stables were empty upon your arrival as Joel helped you dismount from Shadow. He urged you to change back into your attire that you wore to the party so that your mother, nor father would raise their suspicions. You parted ways with a kiss, a longing behind his lips as he watched you leave his embrace and walk back into the life you had always known.

At the breakfast table your mother was quick to question why you were not present in your chambers at sunrise, but you already had a rehearsed script planned in your mind. Without missing a beat, you told the story of how you had a few too many flutes of champagne, and fell asleep in the gardens.

Your mother, of course, scolded you, but your father? He had a hidden, knowing smile playing beneath his mustache.

You and Joel were extremely cautious and strategic when it came to planning your rendezvous. They happened frequently, under the cover of night when everyone was sleeping. Sometimes in the stables, sometimes in the gardens, and you even returned to the inn a few times in secret. He could not get enough of you, your kisses, or your touch. The feeling was mutual, and you both knew that the deep, profound feelings you were both experiencing was not infatuation or lust, no, you and Joel Miller were madly, deeply, tragically in love with one another.

Even in the daytime he would seek your presence, asking your father if he could accompany you on a ride through the countryside as your guide, and protector. You had picnics by the river where he would lay his head upon your skirts, eyes closed blissfully as he listened to you read love stories from Shakespeare till he would drift off, soft snores escaping his lips, your voice lulling him to a sweet slumber. Your horses would graze side by side, his stallion, your mare. Their tails swishing to fight off the pesky flies.

-

Upon the approach of your eighteenth birthday, you wept in Joel’s arms, for no matter how many times he spilled his seed inside of you, your womb did not swell with life; his child. You feared that his love for you would sour and rot when you broke the mournful news to him beneath comfort of the shimmering moon, and twinkling stars.

“My dearest, why do you weep? Who, or what has caused my sweet love to shed her tears?” He sank to his knees with you crumbling in his arms. His heart felt like it was being shredded to fragmented pieces when your sobs echoed off the nearby hedges in the garden where your embrace was hidden.

“My Joel!” You cried, clawing at his arms with fat, heavy tears streaming down your cheeks, “I—I’m so sorry. I have let you down, my love.”

“My dearest, how have you let me down? Tell me what is wrong! What has happened?” He spoke urgently, tone hushed.

“My womb does not swell with life, Joel! We have tried, and tried! No matter how many times, it has been fruitless! I bear you no sons, no daughters—” you wailed mournfully.

“My sweet, are you certain of this? Oh, my girl…” he felt his own tears begin to prick his eyes as he began to gently rock you in his arms. “Do you weep in sadness, or in fear? I do not care that you cannot bear me any children, my dearest. My love for you will never sour.”

“Do not lie to me, lover!” You were on the edge of snapping through your tears, “when my sole purpose in this life is to marry and bear children to my husband! There must be something wrong with me, Joel! How can you say you love me when I cannot be the woman I am expected to be! I never can fucking—”

You surprised yourself and him by your sudden crude language, but then again, spending as much time as you did with Joel, his verbiage began to rub off on you, and yours onto him.

“Then don’t be the woman you are expected to be, my love! There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing, do you hear me? I love you as you are! You are my lady, for fucks sakes! You can be whoever you want to be with me! Do you wish to be a poet? Be one! Do you wish to be a scholar? A singer? Do you wish to live a normal life where your choices are not already chosen for you?!” His voice cracked, coming out as a hoarse rasp deep from within his chest.

You fought the urge to scoff and chide him for being so naive. “My life will never be normal! Don’t you understand?! All I know is what has been chosen for me! It doesn’t matter what I want, Joel! I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth! My studies, my thoughts, opinions, have all been predisposed! Even the fucking food I consume, and the clothing on my back has been chosen for me!”

“Of course I understand! All I have ever done is understand that you and I were never cut from the same cloth! And yet, I love you all the same because what else is a man to do? My sweet, we are weeks away from your eighteenth birthday! We can run away together and carve out the life of our choosing! Fuck your parents, fuck the society we live in! Do you want to marry a man you don’t love and live in misery?! Or do you want the chance to live! To wake up at your choosing, to wear what you desire, to love freely with no prejudice? To never again live under your parents control? Don’t you want to…love me?” He was exasperated, chest heaving, nostrils flaring from the pure passion oozing from his words.

You fell silent, your lower lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears as you looked into his eyes, taking in the redness in his cheeks, the puffing of his chest—the love pooling in his dark irises, “of course I want to love you, my Joel. I—I’m afraid! Can’t you see that? I’m expected to marry and bear my husband's children and now I cannot! If we run away together, I’ll never be able to return home! What if our love isn’t destined to make it! What if we fail—”

“Of course I can see you’re afraid, my girl. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice! You are safe here, with me. With your Joel! I would never, ever, ever let anything happen to you. We may not live a life of riches, but we would live a life rich in love! I—I can get a job! I will work until my bones break if it means that I get to be with you. I’ll work the railways, the mines! Any job that I can take, I will, and I’ll do it all for you.”

You kissed him then, tasting the salt from your own tears and his upon your locked lips. “We’ll move west! As far west as we can! We’ll see the ocean for the first time, plot out our land and live out our days together!” You murmured against his lips.

“California.” He promised you, kissing you deeply as his hands came to cradle your face, “a sheep ranch with Shadow and Sunfyre.”

“Why sheep, lover?” You asked softly between desperation filled kisses,

“They’re quiet, do as they're told.” He teased, chuckling when you gently swatted at his chest for making such a comment.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You giggled, which soon turned into a moan when his fingers slipped down to your waist and hastily began to unlace your bodice, while your hand drifted downwards to undo the string on his trousers. Neither of you knew that one of your own ladies, the same lady that had been promised to Joel by your father, caught the two of you in the gardens while she was out for a midnight stroll. Her presence was undetected as you sank down around Joel’s cock beneath your skirts, moaning his name unashamedly as your entwined bodies moved in sync.

June 1st, 1844

“Yes, mother.” You responded in a practiced, complacent sweetness to appease her.

“He will make a fine husband to you, one day.” She added, her perfectly dainty fingers came to rest upon your shoulder, squeezing it with anything but a comforting touch. She didn’t notice the way your gaze lingered on your secret lover, nor did she sense your longing.

“Yes, he will, mother. I look forward to making his acquaintance.”

“Good. You have grown into being a fine young woman, daughter. Your father and I are so very proud of you.”

If only they knew that you were not the perfect, proper lady than they believed you to be, and that your heart belonged to another man.

-

Your Joel had requested a private audience with your father leading up to the festivities surrounding your monumental birthday. And so after bringing the horses in from the pasture, he made his way to your fathers office, closing the door quietly behind him when he was given permission to enter.

“Sir, I have wonderful news to bestow upon you, Shadow is expectin’. She was showin’ early signs a few weeks back, but it is official.”

“Wonderful news indeed, Joel. And who is the lucky stud?” Your father asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Sunfyre, sir.”

“Ahh. What a combination. A filly, as black as the night, and a colt, as golden as the sun. I wonder what their offspring will look like.” He mused.

Joel swallowed the lump growing in his throat, his palms growing clammier by the second. He took a deep breath to calm his budding nerves, “Sir, I need to disclose something to you, but before I do, I just wanted to say that I have appreciated being able to confide in you in some capacity. I am grateful that you have taken me under your wing and offered me the chance at having a better life, but your daughter—”

“Joel.” He warned, leaning forward in his chair with his hands clasped together. “Be extremely careful with your choice in words for whatever it is you are about to tell me. Perhaps I need to remind you where your place is? Maybe I should have been wary of confiding in you, boy.”

“Sir, please. You must hear this! If you care about your daughter's happiness, and her well being, you will listen to what I have to say. I swear that our conversations have remained confidential! I have spoken about them to no one, I swear it!”

Your father let out a deep sigh, bringing his hands to his face where he pressed the pads of his fingers into the deep set wrinkles in his forehead. “Go on then.”

“Your daughter—she is unable to bear children. She is afraid of what is to become of her if she cannot bear children for her future husband, sir. And I fear for her as well! Sir, men are unkind, and she is sweet. She is sweet and kind and deserving—”

Your fathers heart slowly began to sink, his composure crumbled because of his darling little girl, who would certainly face a life of hardship and misery if you could not bear children and enact your duties as a perfect wife for your husband. He didn’t agree with it, but that was how society worked. Men ruled the house, and the women cared for their husbands and children. “How do you know of this, Joel?” Your fathers tone wavered, his eyes casting in Joel’s direction and he saw a younger version of himself in your forbidden lover.

“Sir, you know the answer to your own question.” Joel nearly whispered, avoiding direct eye contact and let his gaze fall to a portrait behind your fathers desk, two young men with their arms around one another’s shoulders.

“You love her, don’t you?” His question hung heavy in the air.

Joel froze like a deer that was inevitably caught by hunters in the meadow. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think as he listened to the sound of blood rushing in his ears and his pulse pounding, “with all of my heart, sir.”

Your father slowly nodded his head in understanding as he let out a sigh, “then you must know that you have to swallow down your feelings for my daughter for her benefit and your own. You are playing a dangerous game, Joel. One that could very well cost you your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. I have never loved another being outside of your daughter. Our love may be frowned upon and forbidden, but it is real. I have felt for her since I was just a mere boy, when the storm was raging outside and she accompanied me to see the birth of Dahlia’s foal. My love for her will never sour, it will never over ripen and rot like the low hanging fruit upon the trees. I have nothing to offer her but my heart, and that holds a weight more valuable than gold or silver.”

Your father smiled, one that did not reach his eyes as he slowly stood from his chair behind his desk and walked in front of it. “You remind me so much of my younger self, Joel. Willing to do anything for the person you love. Despite all the odds being stacked against you.”

Joel took a hesitant step back, the heel of his boot nearly catching along the rug, “do not patronize me, sir. I love your daughter, and nothing will stop me from loving her. Even after death, my love for her will remain.”

“Of course nothing will stop you, Joel. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He smiled sadly, a look of longing hidden behind his eyes. Joel knew the look all too well.

“I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“I’m going to tell you something that you have to swear you will never utter to anyone. It is a secret that you must take to your grave, Joel. You cannot even tell my daughter. Are we clear?”

“I swear I will not tell a single soul, sir. Not even your daughter will know.”

“Good, I trust you. You have a good heart, Joel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Your father reached for his box of cigars, silently offering one to Joel who politely declined. It had been many, many, years since your father spoke about his past, and while he lit the end of the cigar, those memories began to surface. “I meant what I said when I told you that you remind me of my younger self.”

Joel nodded in understanding.

“When I was your age, the world was at my fingertips, Joel. It was my oyster, and I could have any lady of my choosing, but I had to marry. That was my parents one rule upon me was that I had to marry.”

“You could have any lady of your choosing, but it wasn’t a lady that held your affections, was it, sir?”

“No. It was not a lady that held my affections.”

“The man…in the portrait behind your desk, was he your…?”

“Yes, Joel. The man in the portrait was my lover. The butler's son nonetheless. I of course tried to appease my parents and court the finest lady in town, but my heart longed for my lover. We were going to run away together, Joel. It was all planned out, and I was ready to throw away my old life for him. It was, and still is taboo and forbidden to lay with the same sex. We were careful, until I came to him with the grave news that I would have to marry, and that we could no longer be together. He was angry, I was angry, we got reckless, and one night we were caught.”

“By…the lady of the house? Your now wife?”

He nodded, leaning back against the front of his desk, “yes, she was the one who caught us in the act, in my chambers. She screamed so loud, as if she was witnessing a murder! I begged her to keep her voice down but she wouldn’t listen. She was disgusted with me, and proclaimed that I would rot in eternal hell for the sins I committed.”

“What happened…to your lover, sir?”

“My own father nearly beat my lover to death in front of me. I was forced to watch the life drain from his eyes. I begged and begged for him to stop, to let him live! Maybe he would have, if it wasn’t for the lady of the house to spread a rumor that the butler's son came onto me against my will. My father didn’t want to believe that his son was a fairy, and so my lover was sentenced to hang. I visited him for the very last time when he was shackled, malnourished, and begging for death to take him. I stayed with him all night, praying that the sun would never rise. The following morning I was forced to watch him hang. Every single spectator in the crowd, except for me, cheered for the death of another fairy!” He used the back of his hand to swiftly wipe at his eyes when his tears began to well and roll down his cheeks.

“He was buried in an unmarked grave and I went through with marrying the lady of the house. I wasn’t given another choice, and on the night of our wedding, she whispered to me that she knew the truth, and that she wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail me for it.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. Your lover—you, I’m so sorry. I do not understand why people are so cruel and hateful. Love is love, is it not?”

“Please do not sympathize with me, Joel. I do not seek your sympathy. I am telling you this because if you do not swallow your feelings for my daughter, you will surely face the same fate that my lover did! Don’t you understand? She has been promised to another. She meets with the banker's son tonight and in time, they will be married. It is her duty and expectation. And you will have the choice to marry the lady I have chosen for you. Your love for my daughter will fade, and you will be grateful that it did.”

“How dare you! How dare you stand there—you coward! You could have been with your lover now if you had run away together! You had the opportunity, and didn’t seize it?! Don’t stand there and claim that my love for your daughter will fade, when yours for your dead lover has not! You stand there, weeping for him! Your life could have been different—”

Crack

Your fathers cruel fist made direct contact with Joel’s beautiful nose, the force of impact sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his face in despair as blood trickled and dripped between the grooves of his fingers, staining the golden threaded hearthrug in splotches of crimson.

“Get the fuck out of my office. It is clear that you have forgotten your place, boy. You will never marry the likes of my daughter.”

Joel retreated through the office doors with what remained of his dignity. He confided in your father purely out of trust, and he thought it was a mutual feeling. For the rest of the afternoon, leading into the evening, you did not see your Joel.

-

The banker’s son was polite, well-mannered, but goodness—was he a bore. You had no interest in hearing him drone on about the stock market in New York City. He didn’t bother to ask you about you, or your interests as they were already predisposed by your mother.

Fucking cunt.

He strolled with you in the gardens with your hand lightly grasping onto his elbow. Your eyes wandered off, in search for that familiar stature, and head of distinguishable dark curls as you passed by the stables, but your Joel was nowhere to be found. Your heart sank and you asked the banker’s son, Timothy, if he would mind giving you a moment of privacy in the garden's gazebo. He obliged, but not before he could press an affectionate kiss to the outside of your hand. The bristles in his perfectly groomed mustache tickled your skin before he reluctantly pulled away.

You let out a sigh of relief, your posture returning to a relaxed state as you watched him walk back towards the festivities inside. When you were certain that he was not lingering, you began to nervously pace the short distance inside of the gazebo, muttering about how Joel would never just leave you like this, would he?

Where the fuck was he?

Then you heard it, the groaning of the tired wood beneath his boots, and that warm, deep rasp in his voice. “My dearest.” He croaked, and you immediately knew something was wrong, something had happened. His voice sounded far more nasally, and when you turned around to face him, that’s when you noticed the dry, crusted blood beneath his fractured nose, the rusted blood stains in his white shirt. You ran to him, delicately cradling his beautiful face in your palms.

“My Joel!” You cried, “what has happened? Who has done this to you! Your nose—your beautiful nose!”

“Hush, my darling. It’s—just a fracture, lover. It will heal.” He lowered his tone to a whisper, his hands slowly coming to rest around your waist. “It does not matter who did this to me, my dearest.”

“How can you say such a thing? Joel, please, my love, who did this to you?” You softly begged, thumbs gently stroking the scruff speckled on his strong jaw.

“Your father.” He murmured, bitterness laced in his words.

“What?” You murmured in disbelief, dropping your hands from his face, refusing to believe it. “Why would he do such a thing to you! Joel, please, please tell me what happened!”

“My love, please promise you will not hate me for what I am about to utter. Swear to me that you won’t.” He pleaded, tightening his grip around your waist in fear that you would slip between his fingers like grains of sand.

“I swear it.”

“He knows about us, my dearest. He knows that I love you, and you love me. He knows that you cannot bear children because I am the one who confided in him this afternoon. I did it in hopes that he would understand, and stop the banker's son from courting you tonight. I—I thought maybe we wouldn’t have to run away, and we would be accepted as lovers!”

“Oh Joel, they will never accept us! You stupid, stupid, beautiful little fool.” You sniffled sadly, feeling your tears oncoming. “You are too good for this world and everyone in it! Your heart is made of pure gold, and I love you for it, but now you have put yourself in grave danger! That was so fucking stupid of you to do, lover.”

“My sweet, I may be a fool, but what else is a man to do when he is in love? Your father knows, yes, but now we must seize our opportunity to leave, tonight! The party is in full swing, is it not? No one will notice your absence, my dearest. If we don’t leave tonight, I fear we will never have another chance at eternal happiness.”

You swallow down your tears, melting into his embrace and his words. “The banker’s son waits for me inside, it will be suspicious if I do not return to him within the hour…” you trailed off.

“Are you having your doubts, my love?”

“No, no! Of course not. I am in fear that we will be caught if we aren’t careful, my Joel. I will return to him and you will go to my chambers. Lock the doors and do not open them for anyone. Take the back entrance, through the kitchens! No one will see you, I swear it.” You reached for his hands on your waist, interlocking your fingers through his.

“And you? I cannot fathom thinking of the banker’s son touching—”

“My Joel, please do not allow your thoughts to sour. I am expected to dance with him and when the timing is right, I will come find you. I promise.”

He nodded, bringing your clasped hands up to his face so he could kiss your knuckles, wincing from the dull ache in his nose.

“Together?” He murmured, eyes locking onto yours.

“Always.”

You parted ways after he kissed you, promising you that all this pain would be worth it in the end, and of course, you believed him, for what else is a girl to do when she is in love?

You returned to Timothy’s side, assuring him that you just needed to be alone with your thoughts. He was an understanding man, and you could understand why your father assumed that he would be a perfect match for you, but no one would ever be your Joel. And while you danced, and made small talk with him and his friends, Joel was making his way through the kitchens, ducking into one of the main hallways, muscle memory guiding him the way to your chambers, but unbeknownst to him, he was being followed.

It was a quarter to midnight and your lover could hear the party growing rowdier by the minute even behind your locked doors. He grew weary, doubts settling into his mind that perhaps you had forgotten him. Perhaps you were having a good time with the fucking bankers son. His spirits lifted when he heard the sound of a key being inserted in the lock. He sprung up from the edge of your perfectly made up bed, heart racing in his chest when the doors opened.

His face fell, blood running ice cold when the person revealed behind the door was not you, but the lady who was promised to him by your father. He took a step back, palms growing clammy.

“How did I know that you would be lingering in her chambers, Joel?” She closed the doors behind her and locked them for good measure. “What would her father say if he knew you were in here…hmm?”

“You fucking followed me here, didn’t you, Lady Florence?” He seethed, feeling like an animal trapped in the corner with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Because you were promised to me, or have you forgotten?” She cocked a brow in his direction, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I never approached you. Never even attempted to court you. Just because her father promised me to you, doesn’t fucking mean shit until actions are taken after words.” He snapped.

“I suppose, but then again, you’re in a not so favorable position, Joel. Trespassing after hours, and in his daughter's chambers nonetheless? I’m almost certain you would hang for such a crime.” She mused, stepping closer to where he had tucked himself nearly into a corner closest to the window. “Perhaps he would love to hear how I caught you and his daughter fucking in the gardens a few weeks back. How truly reckless of you both.” She tsked.

He scoffed at her attempt at blackmailing him in such a petty way. “Your threats are made in vain. Her father already knows about my love for his daughter. He’s well aware, and you look fucking desperate and pathetic at your attempt to blackmail me.”

“Blackmail you? Joel, you have me all wrong!” She laughed, “I don’t have the heart to blackmail you!”

“Then what the fuck do you call what you just attempted to do, hmm? Don’t take me for a fool! You are nothing but a jealous little—”

“Joel? It’s me, my love. I don’t have my key…someone must have nicked it!” You whispered through the outside of the closed door, looking around the vacant hallway anxiously. “Are you in there?”

He strode past Florence, shoulder checking her on his way to the door and quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside before closing and locking it again.

Your eyes landed on his face, and then trailed over his shoulder to Florence, one of your ladies, who you had believed up until this point was loyal, and not a conniving little—

“Lady Florence? What are you doing in my chambers? What is going on?!”

Joel reached for bare forearm with a gentle grip to pull you back. “My dearest, it isn’t what you think! Lady Florence is the one who nicked your key and followed me to your chambers! She cornered me, threatened me with blackmail, and claimed that she caught you and I in the gardens weeks ago!”

“Is this true?” You felt saddened, betrayed, and disappointed. “Flo, how could you do such a thing to me? I thought we were friends!”

“My lady—he lies! I never would steal from you, he is the one to corner me! He sought me out, forcing me into your chambers—” she lied between her teeth, digging herself in a graver hole than she was planning.

“LIAR!” you yelled, ripping your arm from Joel’s grasp, “he would never lay a hand on a lady, nor pressure her! You speak only of lies Florence!”

“Lover! We do not have the time for this! We have to go, we have to go now!” Joel urged you from behind, reaching for your arm again. “She isn’t worth it! Please, we must—”

And then you heard your fathers voice booming down the hall. Your biggest fear was coming true, and now there was nowhere for you or Joel to hide when the doors bursted open, the locking mechanism snapping in half from the force of your father.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He demanded.

Lady Florence, being the snake in the grass that she was, immediately flocked to your fathers side. “Sir! You arrived just in time!” She said exasperatedly, “Your daughter was in her chambers freshening up and I went to go check on her, being the good friend that I am, when I heard her dreadful scream! I came upon the heinous crime of the filthy stable hand taking your daughter against her will!” She wept her crocodile tears. “He threatened to—”

Your father wasn’t buying it for he knew that Florence was a terrible liar, and a rotten friend. “Lady Florence, this does not concern you. Return to the party immediately, and speak this to no one.”

“But sir—”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She narrowed her eyes at both you and Joel before slinking out of the room, closing the doors behind her.

You immediately stepped in front of Joel, silently vowing to protect him no matter what would happen, you would not allow your father to harm another hair upon your lover's head.

“Daddy, please, I love him! Please, let us be! I know it goes against what is expected of me, but Joel is a good man! He has only ever been good to me, father!”

“Your mother will never allow it, daughter. All Joel has done is tempted you and filled your head with fantasies! You have been promised to the banker's son and that is final! You think of me to be cruel, but I am only doing what is best for you!”

“I do not care what you think is best for me, father! I do not want to marry the banker's son! I wish to be happy with my one love, and I do not care if that means that you and mother will exile me! I do not care that it means I will no longer live a life of riches! I am rich in love and happiness with him by my side!”

Your father ignored your pleas, even when you clung to his arm and dug your heels in the ground to stop him from advancing towards Joel. “Please, father! Please! I am begging you to leave him be!” You cried, and your words were caught in your throat when the backside of your fathers ring clad hand made swift contact with your cheek, sending you tumbling to the floor in shock. All Joel could see was red behind his eyes when your fathers hand made contact with your cheek. He sprung into action, but your father, despite his age, was quick, ready for Joel’s attack.

“YOU DARE FUCKIN’ LAY A HAND ON HER?!” Your lover yelled with a rage you had never heard leave his lips, “I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU IF YOU LAY A HAND UPON HER AGAIN!”

Your father used Joel’s rage to his advantage, letting the younger man assume he had control of the situation when he was shoved against your tall, wooden chifferobe.

“STOP IT! PLEASE!” You cried, “BOTH OF YOU, PLEASE STOP!”

In your moment of distress, Joel was distracted for a millisecond too long when your fathers fist connected with Joel’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. He landed another hit, and then another, weakening Joel enough that he crumbled to his knees, bringing his arms over his head to block out the fists raining down upon him.

Your father was relentless, grabbing your lover by the back of his neck, yanking it upwards so he was forced to look up at the older man from his knees. He bent down to his level, getting close to his ear and whispered only for him to hear “I warned you this would end badly if you weren’t careful, boy.”

Joel spit a mixture of congealed blood and saliva directly onto his face, spattering it in speckles of crimson. “Fuck you, you coward.” He hissed between gritted teeth.

Your fathers fist trembled, his hand surely was broken, but all he could think about was how he was forced to watch his own lover be beaten in the same fashion, and now he was on the delivering end of it. “Get out.” He seethed. “Leave the property before lady Florence runs her large mouth to the lady of the house and spreads a false rumor about you and my daughter. Leave before I change my mind, Joel.”

Defeat; complete and utter defeat is all Joel Miller felt in his bones when your father released him with a rough shove to the ground. He struggled to sit up, coughing up more blood, and when you attempted to crawl to his side, your father grasped your elbow and yanked you to the door.

your fading screams of his name echoed down the hall as your father dragged you further and further away.

Bruised, beaten, and feeling hopeless, Joel Miller forced himself to his feet and obeyed your fathers word to leave while he still had the chance. He felt like a coward now, but what else could he do? If he stayed, surely he would face the gallows for a crime that he didn’t commit. Lady Florence had infact gone to run her big mouth to the lady of the house, claiming that Joel Miller raped you in your bed chambers. It was of course a fabricated lie, and only lady Florence, Joel, your father, and you knew the truth.

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealousy drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel

Unspecified date.

My Joel,

I write this to you in secret. My words are only for your eyes, and when you receive my letter, tell no one, my lover. Father is angry, so very angry, and mother only speaks of hate towards you. She is determined to make me press charges against you to hang for a crime you did not commit! Father won’t stand for it and instead we have abandoned the estate, left all of our belongings including our dear horses! They will not tell me where we are going, but I miss you terribly, my Joel. My brothers have been free to marry by their choosing, but I? I cannot. It’s rather cruel, isn’t it? To be given one life and since birth, since I first opened my eyes and gazed upon the new world, my choice has been stolen from my grasp. Oh, my Joel, you speak in sorrows, but the fault lands upon my shoulders. I’m so sorry, lover. I should have been more careful and discreet with our planned rendezvous. I deeply loathe Lady Florence for spying upon us! You are right of her jealousy, and now she claims to be remorseful! Oh, I feel your lips now. Your kiss, your touch upon my skin. My love for you has not weakened, I promise. Hold my words close to your heart, my Joel. I fear I will not be able to write to you again, but I will try, for you. My Joel, you are in my thoughts, always.

You have my heart,

Your Dearest.

-

January 1848, one hour after dusk

The decision to leave Texas and travel to New York to stop yours and the banker’s son’s wedding could quite possibly be the last thing that Joel Miller would ever do. But how could he sleep at night knowing that you were out there, somewhere in the city, thousands of miles away. You had not written to him in so long, but that didn’t deter him from following his heart back to you. He couldn’t fathom life without you in it any longer, and what else is a man to do when he is in love?

That’s how he found himself in the familiar stables, the horses peeking their heads out from their stalls and nickering softly to him in greeting. He kept the single letter you wrote to him safely tucked away in the pocket of his coat, rucksack thrown over his shoulder with what little belongings he possessed. After a new family moved into your home he was given a higher title, a warm bed to sleep in, and he could have married his new boss's daughter and lived a comfortable, happy life, but he declined, for she would never be you, his dearest. Despite turning down every single one of her affections, she still lingered, hoping that one day she would be good enough for his affections and heart.

He was frantically tacking up Sunfyre, cinching up the girth when the barn doors creeped open and Phoebe, his boss’s daughter appeared.

“Joel?” She whispered through the cool evening air, lantern in hand to peer into the low-lit stalls, “what…are you doing?”

He let out a sigh, dropping his hand from the girth and turned around to face her, “lady Phoebe, it’s late. You shouldn’t be out after hours.”

“Neither should you.” She chastised. “Where are you going at this hour, Joel?”

“My lady, that is none of your business. Please, return home. Forget that you ever saw me.”

“You’re going after her, aren’t you? Joel, it’s been years, and she has only written back to you once! It’s in all the papers that she is marrying the banker's son. You could be happy here, with me.” She whispered the last bit, feeling her heart ache for a man who would never feel the same for her.

“Lady Phoebe, “You are a dear friend to me, but I cannot love you, for my heart belongs to another.”

“But I can love you, Joel. I’m right here! She is thousands of miles away and—”

“She is my love, my one true love, and I’ll be damned if I don’t follow my heart. Your heart sings for me, but it’s not my tune to hear. You will belong to another, I promise.” He moved from Sunfyre’s side, grasping Phoebe's hands gently in his calloused palms, “you have to let me, and what could never be between us go.”

-

May 6th, 1848

My Joel, if you’re out there…please, please come find me, lover.

Your Joel wasn’t even sure how the fuck he was supposed to find you in a city as large as New York City. All he knew is that today you were expected to marry the banker’s son, and he would be damned if he didn’t stop this wedding from happening. He asked nearly every passbery in the street if they knew where the biggest wedding of the month would be taking place. It took less time than expected to find his answer, and once he did, he rented the finest suit that he could afford, tucked the ring box safely in his suit pocket, and rode to the chapel.

The wedding bells were already beginning to sweetly chime, and he felt his blood run cold at the sound. Was he too late? He would never forgive himself if he was.

“If anyone here, in this room objects to the unifying marriage between this man and woman, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The officiant spoke at the head of the altar, just as the doors leading into the chapel burst open.

“I OBJECT!” Joel’s familiar voice boomed up the aisle. Hushed murmurs, and surprised gasps echoed throughout the chapel when your eyes landed upon your Joel. All time ceased as you dropped Timothy’s hands, racing down the aisle, the train of your perfectly fitted wedding dress dragged behind you.

Tears flooded your eyes as you threw yourself into your lover's embrace, clinging to him in disbelief with your hands cradling his face. “MY JOEL, YOU CAME FOR ME!”

“Of course I did, my dearest. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He murmured, unable to truly process all the feelings he was experiencing at once. But what did it truly matter? The time apart was years, but it was all worth it leading up to this moment.

Your father was already making his way down the aisle, followed by your mother and Timothy when Joel grasped your hand tightly in his and whisked you down the aisle towards the exit. He wasn’t going to let them take you away from him again, not this time.

His grip on your hand did not loosen at the harsh sound of your fathers voice, and even when you were running down the chapel steps in unison, he did not let go until you and him were safely tucked behind a wall of a building, out of sight from the wedding party.

He kept you safely caged against the wall, a burst of memories from the night of firsts that you shared together all those years ago. “My dearest,” he breathed, “I thought I was too late! I thought the wedding already happened and you—”

“My Joel, I—I never thought I would see you again! I only ever received your single letter and I thought that you had moved on, that you had forgotten about me!”

“What?” He shook his head, brows furrowed as he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing every inch of your skin there. “My Dearest, I wrote to you many, many times! Did you receive all of my letters? I thought the same! I thought you forgot about your Joel.” He admitted quietly.

“Fuck! I bet it was mother, or father! I bet they were keeping your letters from me, lover! Maybe they thought that if I believed you had forgotten me, I would be more inclined to marry the banker’s son!”

“I would believe that to be true, my sweet. But none of that matters, okay? I’m here now. Your Joel is here, and I will never leave your side again.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re here! Oh, my Joel, I’m so sorry—for everything! I have not stopped thinking about you all these years, I swear it. My heart only has ever belonged to you. I wear his ring, but it means nothing to me!”

“Shh, my love. I know, I know. My heart has only ever belonged to you, my dearest. Only to you. Fuck his ring. I will remove it from your finger so you never have to gaze upon it again.” He rasped, gently grabbing your left hand, scoffing at the enormous rock on your ring finger. “And I will replace it with my own.”

“Please, my Joel.”

He slipped the banker’s son’s ring off of your finger, tucking it into his pocket before he pulled out his own ring box, revealing a smaller, dainter ring beneath the velvet cover.

“It’s not much, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t grace your finger with the largest diamond the world has ever seen, but—I love you, dearest. I came all this way because I couldn’t possibly fathom the thought of losing you to another. I have never loved another soul as I do you, and while I don’t have riches to offer you, shiny carriages, silver platters, I have my heart and I know that it’s worth something to you, darlin.’”

He slipped his ring onto your finger, where it always belonged, and then you finally kissed him, your lips meeting in gentle brush before he surged forward, kissing you with everything that he had to offer. He believed that he was hallucinating, that he was back in Texas, longing for you in his empty bed. But you were here, you were real beneath his fingertips as he licked sweetly into your mouth, hands splayed around your waist, holding you close.

“It’s perfect, my Joel.” You murmured against his lips.

“Only because the lady that wears it is the most beautiful in the entire world. Sunfyre is waiting for us down the street. We can go as far east, west, wherever your heart desires. I will love you eternally, and no one will ever keep us apart, my dearest. I swear it.”

“Let’s go home, my Joel. To Texas. Take me home.”

And so he did, for what else is a man to do when he is in love?

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[nevadaafterdark]

-> FARMBOY ON COWBOY ACTION <3

synopsis: thinking reeeaaally hard about working on a ranch/farm and pining over one of the really hot cowboys that work the cattle..

word count: ~900

(contents: t4t ftm4ftm, pet names (farmboy, beau, shug), frotting, fingering, light bullying/degradation, slight body betrayal, dubcon, nsft)

i'm still kinda new to writing porn! feedback is appreciated <3

you've been working on a farm, or maybe a ranch. the technicalities don't matter. maybe you're doing some of the lighter work, like tending to the chickens. y'know, collecting eggs, breaking broody hens, making sure the momma hens are getting enough to eat and drink as they stay with the eggs. it's a work-intensive job, but relatively light on the body. your boots are broken in but not overly worn.

but god if you can't keep your eyes off that one cowboy that saunters around like his dick is too big to fit in his blue jeans. he rides that shire horse like he's riding into war even though he's only herding cattle. you're lucky you can dish out excuses like watching the pasture for foxes and snakes when you're looking out at the cattle fields.

and yet, of course, luck isn't always on your side. one day, he confronts you about your lingering eyes (something about "you got a lazy eye? or a lack of respect?"). you adamantly deny everything -- obviously -- if only for the sake of his ego not growing too big. sure, you've interacted before, but this is new.

he laughs and takes your hand, his callouses abrasive against your softer hands. with less effort than you think it should take, he tugs you up into the saddle, practically on his lap. he laughs against the nape of your neck, his hot breath against your skin making you dizzy.

"what's the matter, farmboy?" he mumbles, his lips brushing against your skin. it sends electric tingling down your spine. "scared to take a ride? i just wanna show you somethin', that's all."

you deny it (saying something about the other workers not being competent enough to watch for hawks, which is honest-to-god bullshit) and squirm in the saddle. he wraps an arm around your waist and hisses out a warning to stay still. he squeezes the horse's sides with his calves and you're jostled as the horse starts walking, then trotting towards the treeline.

you ask him what he thinks he's doing. he just laughs, nipping at your neck and squeezing your middle again. his fingers find your belt and fiddle with the buckle. "it's alright, shug. i ain't gonna kill you or nothin'."

after a few minutes of riding (and his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants but laughing and taking them out when you gasp), the horse comes to a stop in a forest clearing. he lifts you off the saddle, then hops off.

he unhooks his personal bag off the horse's saddle and drapes it over his shoulder. he gives the horse's dock a light slap, and it canters off, back towards the ranch.

the clearing is nice -- there's wildflowers dotting the tall grass and a rocky crag shadowing half the clearing. he stands behind you, his hands finding your belt buckle again. you gasp, and he laughs, breathy against the shell of your ear.

you call him an asshole and he just laughs again. "oh, you don't mean that, shug. i can tell."

before you can protest, his hand dips into your pants, his fingers immediately gliding over your tdick and running the pad of his finger down your slit. he chokes back a groan. "fuck. goddammit -- you just walk around like this, huh?"

you exhale heavily and deny it. you deny it even though you're hard, even though you're dripping, even though you're fighting the instinct to buck your hips into his hand.

he grinds against your ass, his belt buckle digging into your skin as he dips a finger in you. you hiss, and he laughs. "what, don't like that, farmboy? then maybe you shouldn't be walkin' around, wet and ready and just waitin' for someone to take you."

you huff, your breath becoming more labored as he starts moving his finger. you scoff and your head falls back against his shoulder as he adds a second, rubbing the heel of his hand against your tdick with every motion. he curls his fingers, his fingertips brushing against that rough spot inside you that makes you spit and curse like a feral cat.

"fuck this," he growls under his breath. he fumbles with your belt buckle, undoing it before undoing the button of your jeans and tugging down the fly. he circles around you, undoing his own belt, button, and fly.

he flicks the body of his bag behind him, then grabs your waist with enough force to bruise and brings your hips to his. both you and him let out strangled sounds as the heads of your tdicks bump and rub against each other. he ruts against you, groaning lowly.

"goddamn, shug, you're so fuckin' hard," he manages through his whining noises. "do i do this to you? don't answer, i already know."

you hiss out something along the lines of telling him to shut the fuck up, choking back your moans. you angle your hips and grind forward. both you and him groan and curse and just rut against each other like desperate mutts.

he guides you backwards, pushing you back against the bark of a tree, still grinding against you. he pulls away a little to reach into his bag. he pulls out a strap-on, one that's thick and heavy and matches his brash personality perfectly. the harness clinks as he holds it up with a shit-eating smile.

"you ready for the main show, farmboy?"

[femlesbianbarbie]

Pairing: Cowboy!Abby Anderson X Femme Reader

Summary: This follows the plot of their wayward bride by Vanessa Vale. Basically, you run away from an arranged marriage. in the process of running away you get lost in a blizzard and Abby saves you

Please comment if you like otherwise I probs won't write another chapter. If I do post another it will be longer this one's short because I didn't want to put a ton of effort in for it to just flop.

Chapter one: Runaway bride

You had spent your entire life at a boarding school. Your mother died in childbirth and when your father remarried his wife refused to have you in her home. Your father's solution was to send you away and never bring you home not even for holidays.

The thing you got most was a dumb letter telling you that he loved you. When he sent for you shortly after your birthday you were ecstatic maybe his wife had finally changed her mind. But instead of being met with a happy family, you were met with a middle-aged balding man at the altar waiting for you. Of course, you should have never assumed your father would be better than this. Every girl you went to school with has already been married your father tells you you should be grateful I made this match for you he tells you.

He tells you this as if you should be grateful he has sold you off to a man twice your age at least. Who looks as if he murdered his last wife in cold blood. This is how you ended up riding a stolen horse in the middle of a blizzard. It's really not your best move but you can’t exactly stay and there is still a chance you can make it to the next town over. Hopefully, someone there will help you.  Not that you really know where that town is anymore. You were on track but with the wind whipping the snow around you your visions became nearly non-existent. The horse's vision must be limited too because the next thing you know you are lying on the ground the horse whining in pain as your mind fades in and out of consciousness.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ 

“Are you okay? Can you hear me” Someone says above you their face blocked out by the snow. You try to speak but can’t seem to open you move instead letting out a soft whine. “It's going to be okay I am taking you inside. Im going to pick you up now” And true to their ward you are held against a strong chest as they carry you away. The strong scent of pine fills your nose and you try to cuddle closer and steal some of their Warmth. “It's okay we are almost home then you'll be warm,” they promise.

 “You smell good” you mumble into their jacket. You startle as they chuckle a deep sound that reverberates through their chest. “Thank you” You let out a happy sound as they open the door light flooding your vision and an abrupt temperature straddling your body. “Here the fires going in the den. They carry you into the den and lay you on the floor in front of the fireplace. Their fingers begin to unbutton your dress with a practiced ease. “ I can’t I've never “ You start the words not quite making sentences. “It's okay your clothes are soaked you'll never warm up with them on.” They explain as you finally get a look at them. Long blonde hair and a strong nose are all you can make out through tired eyes. Once you undressed she wraps you in a blanket and holds you to her chest your back to the fire. “Where am I “You ask your nose burrowed into there next. “Bridgewater ranch my friends and I live here I heard your horse and came looking thinking it was one of ours. I came looking but I found you instead not that I am complaining princess.” you cuddle in exhaustion overtaking your body. “Im safe here” You question your voice heavy with sleep. “I'll keep you safe rest now”.

[jewishicequeen]

Lmk headcanons go!

Let's go random HCs!

Red Son doesn't have horns(sorry, I don't like changing character's base look too much from canon), but, in special occasions he'll do his hair like PIF. Hair horns!!

He also learned how to do his makeup from PIF and that was a major point of bonding for them. After everything went down, when they actually sat and talked finally, they did it over makeup. It's their special thing

MK's favorite art medium is alchohol markers, and he can not draw digitally. He tried, it doesn't work for him at all. There's an abandoned wacom in his apartment that he spent way too much on. When they made the Pigsy's Noodles logo he drew it by hand and they hired a professional designer to Vectorize it.

He has an AO3! Used to write a JTTW longfic but stopped after becoming Monkie Kid cause it became "too weird". Still writes for other fandoms, has the least consistant update schedule you can imagine, and the WILDEST author notes

Mei can ride horses! She's pretty good at it too, but never had her own horse, she doesn't want the responsibility.

She also have an AO3. Not because she's in the fandom scene- she literally only used to read MK's stories(and betad some of them). Nowdays she's stalking the Monkie Kid tag though. Absolutely aware of any and all shipping drama, and finds it hilarious. Religiously comments on spicynoodles mutual pining fics with "honey you have no CLUE" and "CAN THEY JUST KISS ALREADY". Doesn't care if people know it's her.

Wukong is EXTREMELY aroace and considers Macaque his best friend. Macaque is VERY gay for him. If you ask Mac they had the worst divorce in history, Wukong is still not aware there was ever something between them.

Nezha has a great sense of humor and sarcasm actually when he's not with our gang. The 24/7 stress does not allow him to shine

[jeankirsteinsgirl]

Omg I’m ovulating and I need Jean right now 🥸could you pls write something about country boy Jean and a shy reader 🙈 I just know he is so charming, low key kinda cocky, and drives a pickup truck 😿😋

Your wish is my command

Save a horse Ride a...

WC: 5.5K (i promise its worth it)

Summary: city girl reader comes home to her family far and sees Cowboy Jean

CW: finger-sucking, cunnilingus, creampie, slut, good girl, princess, sweetheart, Jean has a huge cock, slight dumbification, slight degradation, doggy, spanking. NSFW MDNI 18+!!!

It’s been a few months since you’ve been home but you’ve really been missing the small back-roads town you grew up in. Growing up, generally, no one really left your home town so it was rather unusual for you to take a job in a big city a few hours out. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you knew in your soul you longed for the sound of the crickets at night under the full moon, the one diner in town with the absolute best burgers and shakes, the smell of your family’s farm wafting through your open window at night, and how much brighter the stars shined under the wide country sky. 

You missed it more than you cared to admit, so coming back home to work on the farm for two months this summer didn’t sound too bad. Your mom posed the idea one night when you were ranting to her about the stress of your “big city job” over the phone and she suggested you were just homesick and needed to take some time off, get back to your roots, and she was right. So here you were driving down the interstate through miles of nothing on either side in your fancy new car that dramatically contrasted with the dusty environment around you. You knew you’d hear a bunch of grief from your friends and family about how you dressed now and the loss of your sweet southern accent but you were prepared. Pulling into the long gravel driveway of your family's farm just on the outside of what was actually considered “town” you saw your dog run down from the front door to excitedly greet you. You walked out slamming your car door and slinging your bag over your shoulder before smothering your best friend with pets and kisses “Wish you’d do that to me sweetheart” came from a low raspy voice behind you in that signature cocky southern tone, you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Of course, it was him, your father's favorite farm hand, Jean. How could you forget that he’d be here? 

You and Jean had a long history, and by history you mean the ongoing phenomenon of you secretly pining after him for years as he worked for your dad and him constantly flirting with every woman he laid his eyes on. He was very popular around town, especially among the girls. When you were home you’d always see Jean dragging back a different girl to his cabin next to the horse stables and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, deep down feeling just a twinge of hurt that it wasn’t you. 

You just rolled your eyes and stood up, walking towards the front door of the big white house you grew up in “C’mon darling, I don’t even get a proper greeting?” He said smirking while leaning his right arm against your car “I’ll see you later when I go to help out with the stables Jean..” you replied in a mildly annoyed tone promptly reaching the door of your house and slamming it shut behind you. You were already stressed out about your job the last thing you needed to be stressed about was Jean fucking Kirstein. 

You walked up the rickety old stairs stained with splotches of paint, dirt, and who knows what else before reaching your room, the first one on the right, unfortunately with a perfect view of Jean’s cabin through your big, open window. You quickly shut your curtains and turned away from the view. You were not doing that. Not again. You didn’t need to know who Jean was gonna bring home tonight and cry into your pillow like you were 16 again.

 So you unloaded your things onto your bed and walked back downstairs to your mom who had already prepared a huge lunch for you. She insisted working in the city with such a stressful job had made you far too skinny and you needed to “put some meat back on those bones” so she sat you down at the round dining table in the corner of the kitchen and placed a cornucopia of your favorite foods from when you were little, her famous southern mac n cheese, a few tenders of fried chicken, some green beans for vitamins, and of course a slice of apple pie complete with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream and a coke. “I’m never gonna eat all of this mama” you giggled looking down at the absolute feast laid in front of you, god you’d been here for maybe 15 minutes and your slight accent had already made a comeback. “Well baby whatever you don’t finish we’ll have for dinner how ‘bout that hm?” She said sweetly stroking your arm “Saw you talking to Jean out there. Such a sweet boy, that one. I know your father likes him a whole lot.” You laughed softly to yourself at your mother’s comment of Jean being a “sweet boy” not wanting to get into an unnecessary argument, all you asked in response was where your father was, considering it was strange he hadn’t greeted you in one of his famous bear hugs yet. You were informed he went into a town a few towns over to pick up some more cows for the farm and wouldn’t be back for about three days. Three whole days you will have to work on the farm with just Jean, without the presence of your father as a buffer. Great. 

You scarfed down the delicious meal your sweet mother so graciously prepared for you, maybe she was right, you hadn’t been eating enough. You put what was left over in your oversized fridge and thanked her once again for welcoming you back with such open arms. You did the dishes and took your dog for a run, trying to put off your farm responsibilities until tomorrow mainly for one reason in particular. Unluckily for you the path you took on the run winded through Jean’s smoking spot when he was in-between tasks, how could you forget that? 

“Hey, princess why don’t you take a break and sit with me, hm? Got an extra cigarette just for those pretty lips.” He exhaled, smoke ghosting over his lips as he patted the spot next to him with his large hand. As much as your heart longed to find some semblance of affection in Jean’s flirtation you knew you weren’t special, he flirted with every breathing female who crossed his path, and playing into that would only hurt your feelings more in the long run. So no you would not smoke with him, you had things to do, none of them being Jean Kirstein. 

“Don’t smoke anymore, ‘ts bad for you, you know.” You remarked annoyingly trying to come off completely disinterested in his advances. “Oh, I see, the big city’s turned you into a good girl huh?” he teased taking another long drag, god he looked so good like this. All sweaty from working outside all day, tan with a slight sunburn across his nose dotting just a few freckles, his hair pushed back. “I’m not about to take advice from someone with a mullet” you scoffed and continued your walk as he protested behind you, it was hard to walk away from the opportunity to sit with him but you had to do it. You couldn’t run the risk of being any more captivated by him than you already were. 

After you returned from your walk and had been sulking in your childhood room a few hours later the time had come, like a doomsday countdown your mom stalked your door and asked why you hadn’t been out to see the horses yet. “They miss you a whole lot honey, don't know why you’re leaving 'em all high and dry like this.” She said with a slight tone of disappointment. She was right, it had been forever since you’d been in the stables and you couldn’t let Jean keep you from the horses forever, besides that wasn't fair to them. You’d just have to tough it out. Who knows maybe he’ll be somewhere else when you decided to go check up on them and perform your chores. 

You agreed with your mom and sighed as you pulled your body away from the soft comfort of your warm bed. It was boiling hot out so you needed to change it if you were going to be doing any actual work. You threw on a tank top and pair of old cut-offs you’d cut from jeans when you were 17. You looked pretty good you weren’t gonna lie to yourself. You headed downstairs out the front door and into the stables. Luckily it appeared the only living thing inside was the horses. You breathed a sigh of relief as you greeted each of them, pressing soft kisses to their noses and scratching the special spot they like behind their ears. You noticed at least two of them needed a bath, god does Jean even do anything around here besides antagonize you? 

You set your hat on a fence post and led one of the horses out into an open area where she could be bathed. You grabbed the hose and went to work scrubbing her silky mane and making sure to get her hooves as well. While you were diligently working on the task before you, Jean returned from wherever he was previously causing trouble. You caught him out of the corner of your eye just outside the big open doors of the stables talking to a tall blonde girl. “Yeah baby ‘ll see you later tonight all right,” he said in that sly seductive tone as he pushed some of her fried blonde hair behind her ear, and even worse you could see his large calloused hand resting on her ass. God you wanted to disappear right then and there, why did you have to be subjected to Jean’s promiscuous affairs? You pretended not to notice and continued working a brush through the black main of the horse in front of you “Can you believe him” you whispered to her “You probably can I guess, you must see it all the time” you said as you began to work little braids in the freshly brushed out mane. “Hey Princess picking up my slack huh” his voice came from the open doors as he stomped his way towards the other horse that needed to be bathed. “Not really, I’m just doing what needs to be done around here. Someone has to.” You scoffed in response to his obnoxious comment, how could you be so into him when he’s so aggravating?

You couldn’t stop thinking about his hand on that girl’s ass and his promise of seeing her later tonight, the look of lust behind his pretty amber eyes. Why couldn’t that be you? It’s not like his standards were high and you weren't ugly… why had he never chosen you. “What you thinking about over there pretty girl?” he said “Nothing just trying to get my work done so I can go back home” you replied nonchalantly not wanting him to see behind your facade. So you finally got your work done and succeeded in avoiding Jean for the rest of the night. You kept your promise to your sweet mom and ate your leftovers with her at the dining table before heading up to your bathroom for a hot shower. As you soaped up your body you thought of his hands, how they would feel against your soft skin, what his lips would feel like against yours, then you thought of her. About how he’s probably bottoming out in her as you were showering and the thought made you shiver. You could always check… He left his curtains open all the time, you could see what he was doing right now. No that’s pathetic. You're not 16 anymore. You quickly finished your body and wrapped yourself in a warm towel before walking back down the hall to your room to get dressed for the night. You finished up your nighttime routine, brushed out the long locks of your thick hair, and threw on a big comfy shirt you kept from one of your past boyfriends.

Walking to your bed to scroll through your phone for a little bit the curtains blew open from the movement of the air and you could briefly see into Jean’s window. You didn’t turn around, for about 5 minutes that is. You couldn’t stand not knowing what he was doing. You had to know if he kept his promise of meeting that girl, so you slowly walked over to your window and took the thin fabric of the curtain between your fingers, carefully moving it to the side.

Your fears were confirmed when you looked straight into his bedroom and saw his slender fingers digging into the hips of some girl with a terrible fake tan. Her face was contorted in pleasure and you could even hear them as Jean was making her scream around him due to their proximity. You saw his face too, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and little strands of his brown hair making their way into his eyes, a red tint across his cheeks from exertion and a slight glimmer of sweat against his skin. You shouldn’t be watching this, this is a private moment between Jean and whoever his girl of the night was, but you couldn’t help yourself. The way his hips snapped up into her with delicious fervor just had your mind wandering about how that would feel if it was you instead. His abs contracting with each thrust had your hands wandering down the hem of your cotton panties as you sat back on the edge of your bed. Your eyes were glued to him the entire time as you slowly played with the wetness pooling between your legs, dipping your fingers inside yourself imagining they were his. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm as your breathing grew deeper and more labored. His grunts and groans were music to your ears as you felt yourself slipping over the edge. You called out his name as you let go, your body shaking with pleasure.

Your eyebrows now too were furrowed in pleasure as you watched him please the girl bouncing on top of him, You briefly shut your eyes as you got closer to your approaching high, imagining he was thrusting into you, whispering nasty things about how good you were for him. You wanted him- no you needed him so badly. As you came on your delicate fingers you opened your eyes to the pornographic scene displayed through your window, and whether you imagined it or not you could've sworn for just a second that Jean’s eyes were on you, watching your body heave up and down at the pleasure you gave yourself. But just as soon as it happened it was gone, he was whispering dirty inaudible things to the girl below him, you weren’t sure if he spotted you watching him at all. 

No, he didn’t, it was just your imagination, you decided. Jean’s never been in your room, he doesn’t know you have a view of his house from your window so why would he look in your direction at all? It just doesn't make sense.

Having found comfort in your conclusion that Jean had not caught you touching yourself for him while he fucked another girl, you quickly washed your hands and tucked yourself in for the night, dreading having to see him tomorrow. You lay in the dark and thought about the situation. You wondered if you should confront him or just pretend it never happened. Your heart raced as you tried to decide what to do.

Unfortunately, the sun rose the next morning, bringing about a new challenge of having to face Jean after the last night. You slept in for as long as you could, hoping to burn the daylight and not face him any sooner than was absolutely necessary. Your mom, however, knocked on your door around 10:30 to make sure you were feeling okay, as it was unusual for you to sleep in on the farm, thus beginning what would be a painstakingly long day. You ate a quick breakfast of microwaved oatmeal, you figured if you had to face him, it would be better to get it over with, kindly declining your mother's invitation for a home-cooked breakfast. You made your way back upstairs and threw on your uniform of a tank top, hat, and jean shorts before slowly walking towards the barn to begin your tasks for the day. Surprisingly Jean wasn’t in the barn when you arrived and instead were two new farmhands your dad recently hired from town. Teenage boys, looking for a little extra money on the side. This happened occasionally when the farm was under a little more stress than usual. You just tipped your hat to them and went on with your work as they did theirs. 

You were lugging bales of hay into a pile in the corner when you finally heard him arrive. The sound of his old pickup truck sputtering to a stop could be spotted from a million miles away. He stepped out and into the barn and surprisingly, he barely spoke to you all day. No sarcastic comments, no flirting, just a “Scuse me” every now and then when he’d accidentally bump into you.

It was nearing the end of the day which had gone at a surprisingly fast rate without being taunted by Jean. You were wrapping up your chores and started to say your goodbyes to the farm hands when he walked up to you. “Hey princess wanna come back and have a drink with me on my porch, we gotta lotta catching up to do. Wanna talk to you before you run off again.” He said in a more sincere, but slightly arrogant manner, a tone of mystery to his voice. You decided you’d have to talk to him at some point and after last night you’d have to get over your stupid little schoolgirl crush on him. You figured actually having a conversation would be good exposure therapy to get a head start on getting over him. 

So you followed in his large footsteps back to his rusty old truck he’s used to pick up countless girls and sat down in the front. He pulled out of the driveway of the stables and it was a quick 3-minute drive back to his house. The drive was quiet and the expression on Jean’s face was one you hadn’t seen in all your years of knowing him. It looked like there was a marble rolling around in his head. What was he thinking about? God, what you would do to find out. He stepped out of his old truck and swung open your door for you, what seemed like a sincerely nice action, very out of character for the Jean Kirstein you knew. You quietly followed him up the wooden stairs to a set of old dilapidated rocking chairs on his front porch. He motioned for you to take a seat, and he sat in the chair next to you. You both sat in silence as if he was waiting for you to say something. You braced yourself for whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

As you sat he flung open the screen door to his house and returned a minute later with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured two drinks and handed you one. He held his glass up and said, "Cheers." You clinked glasses and sipped your drink, still anxious about not knowing what was on his mind. He leaned back, drink in one hand and the other behind his head as he rocked back in his chair. Suddenly the realization of what was happening hit you, what do you even say to him Do you know I’ve liked you for 5 years? Why were you banging that trashy blonde girl last night? Did you see me touching myself for you? Your thoughts wandered everywhere except acceptable conversation topics. You opened your mouth to try to say something, but nothing came out. You simply stared at him, unable to process the situation and all the emotions running through you, eyes focused on his piercing amber gaze.

"Missed having you 'round here princess," he said nonchalantly as he rocked back in his chair, seemingly lightening the mood. He felt the tension too and wanted to make you more comfortable. You swallowed the lump in your throat and found your voice again. You managed a small smile and replied, "Missed being here I guess." You shrugged and looked up at the ceiling before swallowing a large sip of the whiskey, hoping it would give you a little liquid courage. "Big city girl now huh? Not used to being back on the farm." He chuckled and you could feel the tension dissipate slightly, yet still uncomfortable. The question had been stirring in your brain all day. Had he seen you? Is that what he wanted to talk about? He handed you the bottle and you both sat in a brief silence, watching the fire flicker in the lanterns lighting up the doorway. "I'm still me Jean, just been gone a while that's all…” you trailed off awkwardly “Still know my way around the farm." He smiled and you felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you. You smiled back, grateful for the reminder that you were still the same person underneath it all. "Seems like you forgot your manners, sweetheart." He chuckled as he stretched his arms over his head, revealing the little trail of hair hiding just above the hem of his jeans as you tried not to stare for too long. 

Taken aback, you tried to understand what he meant had you said something? “Well I don’t think I’m the one who’s been rude lately Jean, you barely looked at me all day. Might’ve said all of three words.” You said with furrowed brows, your voice trailed off sounding a little angrier than intended, accidentally letting your frustration out. “Oh yeah? And why do you think that is princess?” he said a small smirk forming on his face as he sipped his whiskey. “I dunno” you whispered under your breath as you looked down at the floor to avoid his intense glare, feeling your heart speed up. “Didn’t your daddy ever tell you it’s rude to look in people’s windows” and with that your heart stopped, your hands grew clammy and you couldn’t swallow the lump in your throat. 

He knew. Fuck. Of course, he knew. That’s what this is all about. “Jean I-” you started to say before he cut you off. “Don’t apologize, princess, you think I haven't seen you staring at me, hm? Watching me workin’ out in the sun probably getting all nice and wet for me.” “I’ve been watching you too sweetheart, walking around in those tight little shorts basically beggin’ me to fuck you right there.” He said nonchalantly as if he was just asking how your day was, sipping his drink.

Were you dreaming or did Jean Kirstein, your father's favorite employee, just say he wants to fuck you. You didn’t know how to respond so you simply stuttered out what came to your mind first “B-but that girl th- the blonde one-” you said shakily, not having looked up at Jean once since the conversation took this turn.

He stood up from his creaky chair until all you could see were his muddy boots next to yours. He grabbed your face gently with his tough, calloused fingers to make you look up at him “Wanted to put on a good show for ya. ‘Was thinking about your pretty little body under me the whole time. You know how cruel you are wearing those tiny ass tank tops, showing your tits off to all the farmhands? Know how many times I’ve thought about you wiggling under me, hm? I don't give a fuck about any girl I bring back, how could I when I'm thinking of you the whole time?"

With that, as you were about to respond Jean yanked you up to stand beneath him, smoothly catching your lips in a sloppy wet kiss. The taste of whiskey on his tongue made it all the more intoxicating, the way his hands roamed your body. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as his tongue explored your mouth, teeth lightly grabbing your bottom lip between them. 

Without saying anything Jean lead you into his house straight to his bedroom and sat you down on his creaky bed, towering over you. He removed your clothing painstakingly slowly as his lips ghosted your neck before taking in the view below him “Even more fuckin’ sexy than I imagined” You could see him growing hard against his jeans as you tugged at his waistband “N-need you Jean, need you so bad” was all you managed to whine out. As he removed his dirty work clothes before you your eyes wandered over his toned muscles, your mind roaming a million different places from his fingers inside you to his huge cock. 

You reached for his thick cock, pretty pink tip absolutely dripping with precum but he tsked “Uh uh baby, I’m here for you, alright? Now why don't you show me how you play with yourself for me, hm?” He whispered in your ear, chill bumps racing down your spine as a vibrant red blush crossed your face. The thought of touching yourself for Jean made you both extremely embarrassed and extremely turned on 

“C’mon princess you weren’t too shy last night now were you?” He said as his teeth lightly scraped the sweet spot on your neck making you let out a soft moan. You simply shook your head and leaned back against his pillows. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth and slowly lowered your dainty fingers down to your core, you could feel your pussy already dripping down your soft inner thighs as Jean’s gaze stayed locked on you. You began rubbing slow circles on your needy clit as you looked up at him “This what you do when you make yourself cum for me?” Jean asked, his signature cocky tone returning. You nodded and started to dip one of your small fingers into your aching pussy softly whining out “Jean..” “Yeah what do you think about baby, hm?” he said inquisitively, watching every movement of your hand on your messy pussy, making him harder than he thought possible. “Think about y-your hands and how they’d feel, s-so big and strong-” you whimpered out as you added a second finger to your sopping cunt. “Yeah just my fingers, princess?” He asked cockily, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it. “N-no, think about your cock too a-and your mouth…” you trailed off, voice getting quieter as you felt a familiar knot begin to build in your stomach. 

“Mhm and what about my mouth?” The thought of you getting yourself off to him turned Jean on so much and he needed more, needed to know exactly what you thought about. “Y-your tongue, all over my pussy a-and sucking on my clit-” you were cut off as your orgasm ripped through you, overcoming you like waves crashing on a beach, eyes squinted shut. you were accustomed to making yourself cum fast due to your very little free time. 

Jean saw you unravel beneath him, mouth slightly agape as your juices pooled around your small fingers. As you pulled them out Jean replaced them with his rough thumb, rubbing lazy circles on your over-sensitive clit. You wined out and dug your fingers into his muscular back as he touched you “If you can’t take this baby, how are you gonna take my cock?” He chuckled as he squeezed one of his long slender fingers into your tight cunt. “So fucking wet for me…” he said pulling his fingers out and spreading them in front of you to showcase your wetness before sliding them into your mouth “Be a good girl and taste yourself for me m’kay?” He said eyes filled with lust as you sucked his long fingers deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them as you tasted the tangy stickiness of your cum. 

“Such a good fuckin’ slut for me aren’t you?” He said as he removed his fingers, shoving them back into your pussy harshly making you gasp “Probably thought about this a million times huh, me having my fucking way with you. ‘M gonna fuck you like the slut you are, always teasin’ me when I’m at work” your pussy clenched at his words and he chuckled “yeah you like that don’t you? Like me calling you a fuckin’ slut” You nodded as he removed his fingers and moved your hands to your knees “Hold these pretty legs open for me while I eat this pussy okay baby?” He said in a commanding tone before using his ring and middle fingers to spread your pussy open for him “So fuckin pink and wet for me god, this is the prettiest fuckin pussy I’ve ever seen” he said before lowering his mouth onto your swollen clit, tongue doing figure eights all over your dripping pussy. You could feel his scruff against your skin as his hair tickled your soft thighs “Taste so sweet for me baby, said you want me to suck on your clit right?” He asked making direct eye contact with you as you nodded, he removed his mouth from your desperate pussy before saying “Good girls use their words, sweetheart" with a deviant smile “Y-yes Jean I w-want your tongue on my clit” you said, embarrassed at how he had you sprawled out in front of him, already willing to do whatever he wanted. “That’s a good girl” he smiled before attaching his mouth back on your sensitive pussy, sucking and lapping at you like he was never going to eat again. It felt so good you couldn’t control yourself as his skilled tongue ran over you, tears forming in your eyes, knees shaking as his name rolled off your tongue like a mantra.

Before you knew it you were cumming all over his face “Yeah there you go princess, give me all of it, want all of your fuckin’ cum” he said as his tongue continued to assault your swollen clit, riding out your orgasm until he was completely satisfied. You looked so fucked out beneath him and he hadn’t even given you his cock yet, but you needed it, you craved it. Needed the way you knew it would stretch out your tight walls. “Turn over for me baby,” he said placing a soft kiss on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that has fallen on your flushed face as a result of your earth-shattering orgasm. You turned your body over onto your elbows, chest flat against the bed and round ass in the air as you heard Jean stroke his cock a few times. “Been thinking about fuckin’ this tight little pussy for so long baby” he said as he caressed the soft skin of your ass before pressing a harsh slap into the skin, seeing it turn red for him. “You want my cock, huh?” he asked cockily as he spanked you again. “P-please Jean I need your cock” you managed to whine out “I can tell baby, your pussy is just fucking dripping down your thighs onto my sheets, making such a fucking mess.” He chuckled as you moaned at his words, dragging his aching pink tip up and down your wet slit just to tease you. "P-please Jean, I need it-" you begged before he slapped his fat tip against your clit making you whimper. "You need it huh? Beg me, baby, beg for my cock." He smirked as you bucked your hips backward hoping to feel him enter you "Please Jean, please, fuck I need your cock so bad, wanna feel it stretch me out, please please please." You whined pathetically under him before he harshly thrust his painfully hard thick cock into your aching pussy, molding you around him. You screamed as he bottomed out in you immediately, making you take every inch “C’mon baby, weren't you just beggin' for this? Take it like the good little slut you are.” he said as his hips picked up their rhythm, snapping his long cock into your tight cunt, tight balls hitting your clit with every thrust making you go absolutely brain dead for him. You loved the way he stretched you out, his thick cock bullying his way into your tight pussy had you screaming for him so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” He said punctuating each word with a thrust rougher than the last “Wish you could see this tight pussy creaming all over my cock” he said, eyes focused on the white ring forming at his base from both your cum and his. “Fuck, not gonna last long with you squeezing me like this princess,” he said, spanking your ass, making you moan into his sheets. “J-jean ‘m gonna..” “I know baby, I can feel that tight pussy squeezing ‘round me” he replied squeezing his eyes shut from the pleasure, going faster as his thrusts got sloppier. You came quickly at his increased speed, releasing your juices all over his cock. This turned him on more than he thought was possible 

“Fuck ‘m gonna stuff you with my cum okay? Gonne cum deep inside this pretty pussy” You didn’t reply as you were completely fucked out, soon he released deep inside you, balls tightening as he pumped every last drop of his hot sticky cum inside you. You could feel his warm seed paint the inside of your walls white so deep inside you. He fucked his cum deep inside you, riding out his orgasm before pulling out to watch it drip down your thighs. “So pretty for me,” he said turning you back over onto your back before placing a soft, romantic kiss on your lips. “You gotta stop wearing those little shorts ‘round here okay? Makes me fuckin’ sick seeing the other guys stare at you like that.” “Oh you jealous?” you giggled, feeling a happy warm feeling at the thought of Jean being possessive “Damn right I’m jealous. From now on I’m the only one that gets to see that ass okay?” He said as he pulled you closer onto his warm chest, wrapping his strong arm around you. You could smell the strong scent of his masculine cologne and closed your eyes next to him “Mhm” you nodded as you started to drift off to sleep. Jean didn’t usually let his hookups sleepover, he knew you would be more than that. 

[robin-writess]

Heya! Hope you’re having a wonderful day!

I was hoping to request something where the reader is like, tall and just a fricken’ beefcake? And she’s just a very sweet person that likes to take care of the gang members, never shying away from complimenting them or helping them.

Maybe some headcanons with a pining Arthur where the something goes wrong in a mission and she carries him like he weighs nothing and now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Feel free to ignore this if you’d rather not write it! Have a lovely day!

Hii!! I actually love this sm🤭🤭 thanks for the request<33

🎀Arthur Morgan x big strong!Fem!Reader Headcanons🎀

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛ headcanons ᥫ᭡

☽｡⋆ warnings ·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛ canon typical violence, gunshots, injuries, blood

☽｡⋆ about ·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛ arthur falls for tall!strong!fem!reader after she helps him during a bad mission

ᯓ★ You’ve always cared about the gang, helping out whenever you could. Whether it be simple chores, cleaning someone’s wounds, or just watching Jack when Abigail needed someone to.

ᯓ★ You grew up with them so now they’re family to you, and no one can ever take that away from you.

ᯓ★ You’re not the stereotypical young woman everyone thinks of, small, weak, fragile, no you’re taller than most girls your age and pretty robust and tough.

ᯓ★ You could scare away a grown man just with your presence.

ᯓ★ Of course, you get a lot of compliments, mainly around camp. Arthur never really paid any mind to it though.

ᯓ★ That was until you carried him to your horse like he weighed absolutely nothing and brought him back to camp after he'd been shot in the leg.

ᯓ★ The robbery that you, Arthur, and a few other people planned had terribly backfired. It turned out to be a setup by the law.

ᯓ★ They were everywhere, gunshots ringing through your ears and the smell of gun smoke filled your nostrils as you all tried to flee the scene.

ᯓ★ You heard a painful cry come from Arthur, and as you whip your head around to see what happened, you see him limping badly as fast as he could to get to some sort of cover.

ᯓ★ Everyone else was already riding out but you couldn't leave him, no you wouldn't leave anyone like that.

ᯓ★ After you finally made it to him you pick him up bridal style and run back to your horse as if you were carrying nothing at all.

ᯓ★ Arthur was stunned. Everything about you that he used to ignore was now all he thought about.

ᯓ★ After you both get back to camp, you bring him to his tent and quickly but carefully treated his leg, trying to stop as much bleeding as you could.

ᯓ★ After that, he was all about you. To himself of course, he wouldn't let anyone else know of his little crush on you.

ᯓ★ He'd daydream of you anytime he was alone or not talking to anyone. He'd write about you in his journal, mostly about how beautiful you are, how strong and brave you are, and how heroic and caring you are.

ᯓ★ As much as he tried, he just couldn't get you out of his mind.

ᯓ★ He'd spend as much time as he could with you, talking about anything and everything.

ᯓ★ Sometimes you'd catch him staring, but you didn't mind. He was actually just taking in all your amazing features so he could draw you in his free time.

ᯓ★ Any time you said something to him, done his chores for him, or literally just anything, he'd try with everything in him not to let you see how red his face got.

ᯓ★ He gets so excited when he hears your voice.

ᯓ★ "Hey, Arthur." you smile and sit next to him by the fire. His face immediately lights up and all his attention is on you now as he greets you back.

ᯓ★ You both end up having a really long conversation about everything and nothing.

ᯓ★ He'd often wonder if you have the same feelings toward him, but then his insecurities vanish that thought as he remembers just how perfect you are, and how dumb he is.

ᯓ★ He thinks you're way too good for him, hell he thinks you're too good for anyone.

[autemis]

Idk what is happening, but Hansry really brings out a new side of me... They + everything around them have me in such a chokehold that I just can't escape some... ideas...

So, I'm sorry, but I just have to get this out of my head! I try to be as objective as possible... 🫠

So, after the fight is over and everyone is back in the Devil's Den, everything is peaceful - just for a little while at least. Our men and Katherine are just doing their daily business, enjoying life as much as possible and of course, everything is fine between Henry and Hans - whenever it's possible, they try to share their new emotions with each other.

One day, in this little peaceful world, Mutt started to go into heat. (Pls hold your horses, it isn't going in the direction you might thinking) Because of his "circumstances," he is a little restless, pacing around and not listening to Henry as well as he usually does. But then something catches his interest. He senses something and the trail leads him directly to Hans. Our lord is pinning so badly for Henry, that Mutt catches his pheromones and "misunderstands" them.

So Mutt starts courting Hans (who obviously doesn’t get this) and mostly never leaves his side. He follows him around in his daily life, sleeps right beside his bed and sometimes brings him little presents, like prey he hunts in the woods or a very nice stick. It’s all fun and games - maybe a little annoying for Hans, who has to be careful not to trip over the dog - but overall, nothing bad happens. Then, when Henry leaves for a little ride, Mutt refuses to follow him, which is definitely very odd. So Henry starts to wonder but leaves anyway.

In the night or the next day, Mutt wakes up from a very good nap, but sadly, Hans is gone now. So he tries to catch his scent, which leads him to find Henry and Hans in a very obvious situation. When the dog's eyes catch those of his master, he knows that there’s no use in courting any longer. This one is already settled for someone else’s "pups."

I'm very sorry, but I just had to get this out of my system. I think it’s like an idea for a fanfiction - a one-shot where you follow Mutt around. With him, the reader could experience how thirsty badly Hans is pining for Henry. Mutt is there when Hans is stalking Henry while he’s smithing - sitting on the other side of the yard, pretending to read a book so no one will notice anything, but of course Henry just knows. Or Mutt could follow Hans to the horses, where our lord can watch his squire train with Hynek. Something like this - small slice-of-life activities.

Idk, but if anyone (for whatever reason) find this interesting - maybe interesting enough to write something like this, please feel absolutely free to use it!

[shadowfalllen]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five of your other fave writers. Spread the self-love!

Thank you Lyrus and also thank you @fogno and @shamelessinfodumper for sending me this, I'm answering all of you in this one post 😊 I am truly honored to be among anyone's, let alone three people's, favorite authors 🥹❤️

I put links in the names of the fics if you want to check any of them out ❤️

1. To Defy The Gods

Summary:

Dark Justiciar. Mother Superior. Her Chosen. Shadowheart gave her heart to Shar and cast love and life aside, accepting the inevitability of loss. What she felt for Tav was meant to be meaningless and fleeting—just a memory, eventually to be forgotten. But even in the darkness that settled in her heart, a light endured. It refused to die, leaving her secretly yearning for something more. Shar’s embrace grows ever tighter and her demands never cease. Until one day Shar orders the impossible: for Shadowheart to embrace the loss and kill Tav. But breaking the chains and defying Shar would mean ruin. Or perhaps… redemption.

Why I chose this: This is my magnum opus. The first one I wrote where I was truly feeling proud of what I was writing. And this story just keeps getting more and more epic. I love the message of hope in this one even in the middle of all the darkeness. And I adore my Shadowheart and Tav. I have already planned out the rest of the fic and I literally can't wait to take you there ❤️

2. Before the Last Bew

Summary

In the charming town of Willowcreek, fall settles in, bringing with it quiet, cozy days for aspiring author Clara Whitfield. But when a mysterious woman called Shadowheart moves into town and starts working at Clara's favorite café, Clara’s everyday life gets turned upside down. Clara finds herself captivated by the snarky new barista, and soon, the writer’s block that has plagued her all year becomes the least of her worries…

Why I chose this: This fic is my happy place. Thinking about it makes me elateed, writing about it makes me feel joy. And just reading what I've written makes me warm. Readers have described it as a cosy cup of coffee and I have to agree. This is my first purely romantic story and it made me realize I can write romance and that I actually enjoy writing romance. Clara has to be my favorite OC in existense and I just adore her and Shadowheart together. Part of me never wants this fic to end, but there's only one more cup to go ☕❤️ Although I'm already planning Shadowheart pov fic and eventually a sequel as well 😊

3. Where the Heart Stays

Summary:

Eliza moves back to her hometown of Pine Hollow just before Christmas. Encouraged by her adoptive mother, Jaheira, to try something new, Eliza signs up for riding lessons at Hallowleaf Ranch. There, she gets reunited with her childhood friend, Jenevelle "Jen" Hallowleaf, and soon, something more than friendship begins to blossom between them. But Jen carries a deep hurt that has made her more guarded than Eliza remembers. Can Eliza win her over, or will it be another lonely Christmas for them both?

Why I chose this: I had such a good time writing this, from beginning to end it was very joyful. The setting and the horses, from estranged friends to lovers... I just found it all very compelling. And I'm still very proud of the "first kiss" moment in this fic.

4. No Good Deed

Summary:

Many hopes and dreams come to die in The Broken Frontier, a lawless land where outlaws, settlers, and industrialists alike fight to come out at top. Shadowheart has never had time for hopes or dreams. Orphaned as a child, she was taken in by the Nightsinger’s gang, where she learned to live and kill by their rules. The outlaw life is all she has ever known—and the gang the only family she’s ever had. Recently, something has profoundly changed in the gang and it all comes crashing down in a deadly confrontation that forces Shadowheart to make decisions that will change the course of her entire life. Decisions that will lead her to meet a fiercely independent rancher Eliza. Together they may ultimately alter the whole future of The Broken Frontier—if the past doesn’t catch up to them first.

Why I chose this: I'm very proud of the world-building I did for this one. I created this place for it called The Broken Frontier and wrote a 13-page long document detailing its history, lore, inhabitants etc. It's only one chapter long thusfar but I'm also proud in the way I managed to get that gritty, dark western feel to the story and the way I managed to translate concepts from the game and reimagine them for this AU.

5. Where Her Lips Linger

Summary:

Ten kisses. Ten moments. All feature Shadowheart and one of my original characters — drawn from across my other fics, but you don’t need to read those to enjoy these hot, heartfelt scenarios. Characters featured in this collection are from my stories: To Defy The Gods, Before The Last Brew & Where The Heart Stays.

Why I chose this: I chose this because it contains pairings from the other favorite fics I've written. Plus I really liked doing these prompts, like working in the confines of the prompt but still getting to be very creative about it. And each being a contained scene was surprisingly fun to write.

[tightjeansjavi]

Hi!! Love your writing!! Can you write a cowboy fetish joel miller with boot riding 🥺🥺

Hi nonnie! Thank you for sending this in! It scratched my brain just ✨right✨ and I hope it does the same for you! I couldn’t just do some boot ridin’ without some plot ;) enjoy 🤠

Dinner & Diatribes

~word count: 3.7k~

Pairing | Cowboy/bounty hunter! Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life

Warnings: smut,fluff, angst, cowboy in shining armor vibes, unprotected piv, boot ridin! dick slingin, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implied age gap, dom/sub vibes, sir/mister kink, implied abuse (not by Joel) Joel is a bounty hunter during the Wild West, reader is a runaway bride wanted for murdering three men, filthy language, pining, protective! Joel, assumed unrequited love, swearing, AU that might not 100% be historically accurate but I tried! reader has no physical descriptions such a skin tone or body type, readers nickname is Chickadee, +18 minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

Joel Miller knows that keeping a bounty for himself ain’t the way to go about things..he knows that there’s consequences for his actions, an imminent problem would surely arise if he didn’t bring you back to the town you fled from. Wanted for the murders of three men. A wild untamable thing on the run is how the sheriff described you to Joel. And the most important detail of all; I don’t care if you bring her back alive, or in pieces.

And then Joel found you, tracked your trails for miles and miles through the barren rough terrain of the Wild West. You didn’t even put up a fight when you heard the distinct sound of thundering hooves drawing nearer and nearer. You were exhausted, dehydrated, and on the verge of collapsing to the dusty earth while vultures circled ahead.

This didn’t mean you gave up entirely when Joel Miller had you circled, cornered and lasso at the ready. That’s when he took notice of your state, your attire. A once glittering wedding dress now hanging on by threads of shredded fabric. The bottom tooled fabric was now a dirty sand color, blending in with the dirt. Remnants of your eye makeup cracked and stained beneath your eyes and cheekbones that were once painted in a pretty pigment.

He watched from the saddle of his horse as you sank down to your knees, awaiting your inevitable fate to be delivered. “Have you come to turn me in, Mister?”

His head cocked to the side, eyes studying your vulnerable form intently. You couldn’t see his face as it was obstructed from your view with a tied bandana, but even from where you sat on your knees, you could see that his eyes were a deep shade of brown, dark and mysterious.

He dismounted his horse swiftly, silently, boots tearing up dusty patches of earth with each heavy step he took. The spurs on the back of his boots chimed through the air as he stopped in front of you. His broad frame casted a shadow over your kneeling form. His hands were encased in worn leather, and he smelled of tobacco smoke, saddle soap, and musk.

He crouched down, hat tipping forward while one leather clad hand reached for your jaw, thumb brushing across your skin as he tilted it upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. He saw your grime and dried blood stained face up close. Your eyes flickered nervously as he turned your head to the side.

“Ain’t you gonna get on with it and turn me in? What’re you draggin’ this out for, huh? You caught me, mister. Go and collect your fuckin’ reward.” You spat defiantly into the dirt, a glob of salvia landing on the toe of his boot.

His grip tightened around your chin, jaw ticking sharp like a knife, eyes narrowing in on your face and the subtle wobble of your severely cracked and dry lower lip.

“What happened to you?” He finally spoke. His voice reminded you of fire crackling, ominous thunder and heavy rain. Thick, gravelly, deeper than the Grand Canyon itself.

“What’s it matter if I tell ya, huh? You gonna take pity on me or somethin’ mister?”

He was silent again, appearing deep in thought as he continued to study your face, searching through the grime and dirt for any clues..then, he saw it; The eyes of someone that suffered abuse. His grip around your chin softened

“Stand up.” He commanded.

You struggled to your feet, confusion etched in your features, the obvious sway in your step before two strong hands grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“We’ll have to move fast.”

“What’re you—” You were still confused, head spinning from his words and malnourishment.

“I don’t turn in folks that killed outta self defense, Chickadee. And certainly not a woman that killed her abusers.” He gave you a curt, tight nod. “Better you than I cause I woulda tied those sons a bitches up and dragged them through the fuckin’ desert.” He rasped.

“You’re..not turnin’ me in?”

“No. Ain’t morally right for me t’do so.” He said softly.

And that’s how you ended up riding through the countryside with Joel Miller to protect you. You’d patch up his shiners, his wounds, keep his belly full with hearty stews that kept him strong and alert. You’d clean his gun, shine his leather till you could see your reflection in the fabric. And in return, he protected you. He never asked for any sexual favors, or for your hand. He viewed you as his equal, his partner.

It hurt sometimes, to flirt with the man you owed your life to and for him to brush your attempts off everytime. As if you were a pesky horsefly, or insignificant gnat. Yet, you couldn’t help it. Joel was handsome, ruggedly so and you’d often find yourself fantasizing about kissing him, feeling his fingers touch you in places you craved to be touched in. To feel his caress on your skin, the bite of his leather, the scrape of his scruffy beard. The stretch of his cock inside of your wet cunt.

You were driving yourself mad with want for a man that didn’t want you back, or so you assumed that was to be the case.

That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Joel Miller was on the edge to finally just give in when he caught you one night with your skirts hiked above your thighs with your boot clad feet firmly planted in the dirt. Under the pale glow of the moonlight above, and the glittery shining stars, he could see your hand between your thighs, touching yourself and moaning his name.

It felt wrong to watch you, to invade your privacy and your modesty. But he’d be damned if he’d go another night without feeling the hug of your pussy around his aching cock. Or to feel the taste of your kissable lips on his tongue. Damned. Damned. Damned. Fuck, he couldn’t survive another second without knowing what it was like to be loved by you.

For years he had pushed you away despite knowing the pain it caused both you and him. A man could only last so long pretending to not love a woman that he’d throw his life down for in a heartbeat. That’s the kinda love Joel Miller had been dreaming of all his life.

Your head snapped at the sound of a twig snapping behind you as your hand stilled between your thighs. Your heartbeat rattled wildly in your rib cage at the fear and excitement of being caught.

Oh, please. Please let tonight be the night.

“Don’t stop on my account, Chickadee.” He drawled deeply before stepping closer to where you sat.

The heat rushed to your cheeks like a wildfire spreading, your stomach clenched inwards as you began to touch yourself once more, eyes staying locked on his own.

When he was close enough, you used his shins for support as you rubbed your swollen clit in tight, fast circles.

“No.” He shook his head. “Slower. Take your time, darlin.’ There ain’t no rush. Let me see you.” He rasped, before slowly sinking into the dirt behind you. His strong thighs corralled your own almost possessively as his hands gently grasped the hem of your skirts, pulling them up higher. You felt the brush of his beard against your cheek when his chin came to rest along your shoulder. “Nice and slow for me.”

“I’m—sorry, Joel.” You whispered ashamedly through the cool darkness of the desert night. You slowed your fingers, dragging them through the building slick that pooled between the seam of your cunt.

“Sorry for what, Chickadee? Sorry for touchin’ yourself? For moanin’ my name? Why would you be sorry for that?..” His deep tone sent sparks flying through your body as you leaned back into his strong chest.

“Because—you don’t want me, and this is wrong for me to do. To touch myself and moan a man’s name that doesn’t desire me the way I desire him.” A whimper was clawing up your throat, begging to be released, but you wouldn’t allow it.

He dropped the fabric of your skirts briefly only to dip his hand between your thighs and place his massive palm over the top of your hand, guiding your fingers over your clit once more. “This man desires you plenty, Chickadee. I was only tryin’ to protect your modesty..and our hearts.” He whispered against your ear, lips ghosting across your exposed skin. “Been wantin’ to love you all these years we’ve spent together.” He admitted. “I’m a terrible, rotten man for keepin’ you starved this long..” he trailed off, pressing open mouthed kisses at the spot where your jaw met your neck. “M’sorry.”

Those were the last words you ever expected a fucking bounty hunter to whisper..let alone to you?

A shuddered breath slipped past your parted lips, just for him. Your head lolled to the side, granting him easier access as your lashes fluttered shut. “I’ve felt like..such a fool, Joel. A dirty little fool for a bounty hunter.” You took your lower lip between your teeth, biting down harshly and drawing blood to the surface. You let him take full control of your hand, letting him guide and manipulate your fingers to play with yourself just right.

“Shh..I know now, Chickadee. M’sorry, truly. But I’m here now, ain’t I? M’here. Here forever if you’ll have me. I understand if I've bruised and neglected your heart far too many times..I can accept your rejection if it is coming.”

You could detect the edge of sadness in his tone, the acceptance already settling into his bones and heart.

“Joel, please kiss me.” You nearly begged him, dying to finally know what his lips would feel like on your own.

“Why didn’t ya just say that sooner, Chickadee.” He chuckled. “I wish ya woulda just grabbed me by the breeches years ago and knocked some sense into my thick skull. Woulda taken your ache away a long time ago, darlin.’” He said in a hushed whisper. “But I know you were afraid..can’t blame ya for that. Not really. ‘Specially since I ain’t the nicest of men to come by.”

He was taking too long, and you were an impatient woman.

“Joel.” You huffed, fighting the urge to curse him out before you decided to take matters into your own hands, finally. Tomorrow was never promised, not when you and Joel were constantly on the run.

He kept rambling on until he felt the soft touch of your fingertips brushing against the patches in his scruffy beard and the magnetic pull drawing him in closer, closer till he could taste your mingled breath on his lips.

Here in the middle of the desert, with nothing but the moon and stars as a source of light, you finally knew what it was like to kiss Joel Miller. You learned his lips quickly, liking that they were both soft and a bit chapped. As you licked slowly into one another’s mouths you could taste the faint remnants of tobacco on his tongue. It was a bruising kiss, one that both ignited the fire deep within you, and sent a delicious tingle curving down your spine.

So, this is what the girls back home were all talking about. Being kissed by a real man.

And then you found yourself straddling him in the dirt, saying fuck all to your modesty because you had never wanted a man more than you did now. And you wished that your mother could see you now. To see what her perfect little daughter had turned into.

Fuck you, mother. Fuck you for forcing me to marry that monster.

Joel brought you back down to earth with both his lips and his words tattooed on your skin. He caged you with his body, acting as a shield from the chilly night ear that sent goosebumps rising.

He worked your blouse open, growing more frustrated by the minute when the clasps wouldn’t automatically give. He was desperate to feel more of you, all of you because he knew then that you were his, and he was yours. And if you’d end up being the death of him, so be it. At least he could go out being loved rather than unloved.

“You gonna fuck me now, mister? Gonna take what belongs to you, Joel?” You mumbled against his lips in a chasing kiss, growing more desperate as the seconds ticked by.

“Gonna do more than that, Chickadee.” He rasped. This was a promise, and a man such as Joel always kept his promises.

The howl of a Coyote far off in the distant sent uneasy nerves rolling through you, because the realization hit you then that you and Joel were out in the fucking wilderness, and you suddenly felt bare and exposed.

“Jus’ a coyote, doll. He’s singin’ to the moon. We’re safe here, I promise. Ain’t ever gonna let somethin’ happen to you again, Chickadee.” His strong calloused, yet gentle hands came to cup for your face. His deep brown eyes met yours through the pale glow of the moonlight casted over your faces. “I swear on my life, you will always be safe with me.”

and while the lone coyote sang his song to the moon, Joel Miller had you singing your own song, just for his ears too.

After that night spent together, you never had a night where you slept alone. Joel was always there. Holding you, kissing you, fucking you into a blissful state.

He still feared for your safety, and you feared for his. This would never change, but you refused to live in fear for the rest of your life.

It was a boiling hot day under the blazing desert sun. You and Joel were moving west towards California. Hearing about the gold rush there sounded like as good of an opportunity as any. Not even just for the gold, but the prospects of a new life. Joel had dreams of owning a ranch, sheep specifically and living out his days with you by his side.

“Come join me for a swim, cowboy.” You were sitting side by side under the one single tree along the river's edge. Your two horses were drinking their fill after traveling for days in these conditions.

Your cowboy had his arms crossed behind his head, biceps bulging under the thin fabric of his shirt. His hat was tipped down over his head. You only witnessed Joel being fully relaxed on a few occasions where he would let his guard down for just mere minutes.

“Mmm. That’s alright, doll. Y’go on and enjoy yourself.” He said with a lazy sigh.

“Just a quick one together? Please?” You reached over and gently lifted the brim of his hat just enough so you could see his closed eyes.”

“Chickadee..” he said in a low warning tone, peeking one eye open to look up at you before he shut it once more.

“You’re no fun.” You huffed while releasing your gentle grip on his hat.

“M’plenty fun, doll. I gotta keep watch, anyway. Can’t do that if I’m stark naked in the river with ya. What if someone tries to sneak up? Won’t have my gun at arms reach.” He sighed.

“I know, Joel.”

Maybe when we get to California..he won’t have to worry about all of that.

He sat up turning his body to face you before his palm came to rest upon your cheek in a gentle caress. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, tugging it down gently before he leaned in and kissed you sweetly. “Now go on and cool off, Chickadee.”

You kissed him back with the same amount of sweetness before you pulled away and gave his nose a light boop. His face scrunched inwards before he reached around and gave your ass a light and playful swat that sent you giggling as you rose to your feet.

You shot him a seductive wink before you raced down to the river's edge, kicking up a cloud of dirt with your boots.

Joel watched from afar with a hooded gaze as you stripped down from your skirts and blouse followed by your unlaced boots. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when your one boot wouldn’t give right away and you nearly tripped before finally getting it off. He kept watch as you dove into the crystal clear waters and reameraged moments later.

He reached into his pack, pulling out an apple and pocket knife while you splashed around like a kid on Christmas. He cut off a small slice before biting it off on the edge of the knife, chewing thoughtfully as he leaned back against the sturdy tree.

When we get to California..I’m going to marry her.

He didn’t want to end your fun so soon..but it was time to get moving again. He brought his thumb and forefinger into his mouth, whistling to let you know that it was time to pack up.

You had been floating peacefully on your back with your eyes closed when you heard his whistle that immediately tore you from your daydream state.

He was just about to stand up from where he was resting against the tree when you emerged from the river. You reminded him of a goddess. Bare, beautiful, skin sprinkled in water droplets that were kissed by the sun. You looked unreal, and he was the luckiest man alive.

“C’mon, Chickadee. We gotta head out.” He called for you when you were within earshot.

“I’m coming!” You bent down to gather up your clothes before the idea struck you. “Can I dry off first, please?”

He let out a grumbled sigh before he ultimately nodded his head in agreement. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt..

“Jus’ till ya dry off, doll.”

With your clothes and boots gathered up in your bare arms, you approached him casually, setting everything down on your nearby saddle while he watched you with piqued curiosity.

“I was thinking about you out there..laying on my back and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin..” you trailed off.

“Is that so? Hmm..what were you thinkin’ about, Chickadee?” His eyes slowly trailed down your bare body. From the swell of your breasts, down your tummy and thighs and what lay between them.

“Want to take a guess, cowboy?” You asked teasingly.

His brow raised as a grin tugged along the corner of his lips. A game is what you were playing, and he was the willing participant.

“Based on your tone, I’m gonna guess it’s got somethin’ to do with..my cock?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner while his hand casually came to rest between his own thighs. Oh, he was playing alright.

“Mmm..perhaps I was thinkin’ of ridin’ your cock right under the shade of this tree..but that would be too obvious, Joel.” Your eyes drifted down to where his hand was before the traveled down the expanse of his strong thighs and ending at the toe of his leather boots.

He caught onto your drift almost immediately and you saw his pupils begin to darken. “Y’wanna ride my boot? Is’that it? Well, ain’t you a filthy thing, Chickadee. You wanna get ‘em all shined up for me? Drag that sweet cunt of yours over them?”

His eyes stayed locked on yours in a challenging stare while he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the growing tension.

“I do, sir. I really, really, really want to ride your boot.” You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks because never in your wildest dreams did you expect to take part in debauchery such as this.

“On your knees then, girl. Kiss ‘em for me.” He fell right into character with a flip of a switch.

You found yourself lowering onto your knees without a care in the world about the dirt while you bent down over his boots, pressing a kiss to the leather, dragging your tongue down the stitched seam.

“That’s it, doll. Get ‘em nice and shined up for me.” He said while popping the button on his pants open and pulling his cock free from the confines.

“You gonna touch yourself while I ride your boot, mister?” You were sitting upright again before you crawled closer, letting your hands rest along his thighs as you positioned yourself right above his left boot. The imprint of your kiss had already begun to dry from the scorching heat.

“Yeah, doll. I’m gonna fist my cock while you ride my boot like the dirty Chickadee that you are.” He spat into his palm before he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock just as you lowered yourself over the expanse of his boot, taking your lip between your teeth when you dragged your clit right across the smooth leather.

“Fuuck me. Ain’t that a sight. Look at you, fuckin’ filthy girl. S’feel good, Chickadee?”

You rolled your hips forward slowly at the rate that he was pumping his fist. A soft whimper slipped past your lips while your eyes stayed locked on his.

“Feels so good, mister. So—so good.” You moaned freely with each steady roll of your hips, chasing that high. Nothing would ever compare to Joel’s cock. You knew this, he knew this, and you also were aware that this little game would only last so long.

And then he watched you lose yourself completely on his boot with each roll and grind of your hips against the dampened leather. Crying out his name, nails digging into his covered thighs, head thrown back, tears nearly flooding your eyes.

He had the same sense of urgency and realization that nothing would ever compare to the warm hug of your pussy around his cock. That’s when the game ended as his strong arms came to lift you into his lap by your thighs. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss filled with intermingled moans and teeth clashing together when he finally slipped into your warmth.

California could wait a little longer, he wanted to savor this moment for as long as it lasted because now he had the love that he had been dreaming of all his life. Right here in his arms, cock buried to the hilt under the shade of this very tree. Right here with his Chickadee.

That’s the kinda love I’ve been dreaming of

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[thisonehere]

can you write a fluffy, romantic sfw ashrah/reptile? maybe they horseback ride to somewhere secluded for a date or something, or you can have complete free reign over the plot if that idea isnt interesting to you

A Moment Away

Angelscales fic

A/n: Of Course! I love the idea, it's so cute!!! 🥺

Tags: Request, MK1, SFW, Fluff, Drabble, One-Shot, Unicorns, Syzoth is a horse-girly and none of you can convince me otherwise!!!

C/W: none

"Are you sure it's necessary for me to wear this" Ashrah asked.

"You don't have to," Syzoth felt his face burn red with blush as he looked at the blindfold. "I just heard Earthrealmers do this for-you know-surprises." It was noon at the Wu Shi Academy, and the sun had already begun to set. Ashrah had planned to turn in for the night, perhaps do some light reading. That was until Syzoth came. She had thought she wouldn't see him for another month, his duties with the Empress kept him busy like that. She was so happy to see him. She greeted him with a smile, and he greeted her with a blindfold, saying he had a surprise.

"We could try it I suppose." She gently takes the blindfold from Syzoth. "Do I just..." She looks at it unsure. "Um, yeah. Here, let me just-'" he takes back the cloth and goes behind her. The cloth is a random ripped piece of fabric he found. Syzoth didn't think much of it at first, but now that he was about to use it on Ashrah, he felt bad. He should have gotten her something nicer to use maybe the Empress would've given him some silk. This occasion isn't that big, but perhaps she deserves something nicer, or that would be too much, Syzoth didn't know at the moment.  "It's not too tight, right?" an anxious Syzoth softly whispers into her ear. "No," Ashrah returns his question with just as soft a voice. "It's just fine."

"What now?" The world was dark for Ashrah now, she felt the cool breeze tickle her skin. "Now,"  She feels Syzoth's hand takes her. "Now you just follow me." For a moment, they stand there holding hands, the warm sensation of his hands, as they touch her, brings a smile to Ashrah's face, what a strange feeling, Ashrah if she likes the feeling or hates it. When he felt she was ready, Syzoth began to lead Ashrah away. He took great care in leading her, making sure not to get too fast, not too slow, being cautious where he had her step as he guided her up and down stairs and courtyards. "What exactly is this Surprise, Syzoth? Surely it can't be worth all of this."

"Oh, but it is, and If I told you, then it'd ruin the Surprise." If she could see Syzoth, she'd see a giant grin on his face, a face filled with so much excitement that you'd think it'd burst. "It's just a little further." He muses as he is careful through the Academy. a while later they find their way nearly outside the Wu Shi at its gates. A second later, Ashrah can feel the satisfying crunch of grass and leaves as they continue to trudge along. The familiar scent of pine trees and the sound of birds told Ashrah that they were in the woods now. Just where is he taking me? Ashrah thinks to herself, she couldn't lie that the anticipation was eating at her.

"Are we almost there?" She asks after a few more minutes of what feels like neverending walking. Syzoth remains silent for a second, then she feels his hand slip out of hers. "Yes, we're here. Uh, just a second." She hears him quickly shuffle around something as if he's fixing something. Then there's a quiet shushing noise like he's shushing something. "Alright, you can take it off."

Gently, Ashrah took off the blindfold and she was met with two dark eyes like hers, a main of white hair, and a glistened iridescent horn at the centre of the forehead. "Syzoth," Ashrah gasped. The Unicorn tilted its head at Ashrah. She took a single step forward, the beautiful creature nearly took her breath away. "She's beautiful." She sighed, a her face lit up with awe, it made Syzoth smile.

Her white mane was decorated with wildflowers Syzoth picked from a nearby meadow. Soft Blues, pinks, reds and yellows as well as some violets complimented the stead's white coat well, making it all the more enchanting to look upon.

Ashrah took another careful step forward. "Where did you find her?" Ashrah stared into the unicorn's black eyes, she was entranced with the mare. She stood there unsure what to do. Syzoth took Ashrah's hand and he gently guided her hand to the neck of the unicorn and he showed her how to pet her. The Unicorn didn't protest this, she gave a low knicker as it felt Ashrah's hand caress her neck. "I didn't, she found me. I was on my journey back to meet with the Empress, she followed me all the way to the palace." Syzoth beamed at the unicorn as he continued to guide Ashrah's hand.

The unicorn's mane was soft, so soft. Ashrah wondered if this was what the clouds of heaven felt like to be touched, an elated laugh escaped her mouth, and the smile on her face got wider. "Shall we?" Syzoth tenderly whispered to his demon. "Shall we what?" Her ears twitched as she looked over to him. "Mount her, I have something else I'd like to show you." Syzoth's voice is warm and low. "Another surprise?" She mutters as she eyes the lack of the second horse, they would have to ride together.

"Allow me." He takes her hand and guides her to the side of Lo. His hands are tender as he places them on her hips. He lifts her up and places her onto the back of the horse, surprising himself with how smoothly he did it. Once Ashrah is situated, Syzoth pulls himself up and places himself on the horse's loin.

“Where to?" Ashrah strokes the neck of the mare with care, still amazed by the fact that she is in its presence. Its rainbow horn glows softly in the rays of the evening that breaks through the trees, it mesmerizes Ashrah, and she pauses for a moment to admire it. "Actually, Lo knows where to go. She’ll take us there.” Ashrah stops caressing the unicorn and sits upright. “You named her 'Lo'?" Ashrah asked surprised. "It's...a long story..." A sheepish smile finds its way onto Syzoth's face, he lovingly pats Lo with a chuckle as a brief memory flashes before his eyes.

"Shall we?" Immediately, Lo springs into a trot, causing Ashrah to gasp and grip the mane a little too tight. The most riding Ashrah has ever done were demonic stead's of the NetheRealm, they had curling horns like rams and a vicious attitude, not a long flowing mane with rainbows spilling out of it. This felt like a whole new experience. She feels the warmth of one of Syzoth's arms draped around her in a protective embrace while the free arm grips Lo's mane.

"I'm a demon from NetheRealm, Syzoth. There's no need for that." Ashrah insisted. Despite this, Syzoth didn't stop holding him. Frankly, it inspired him to squeeze a little harder Lo navigated through giant twisting trees and their large tree roots sitting through the ground. "That won't stop me. I care quite a great deal about your safety."

"I hadn't noticed." Ashrah lets go of the mane, her hands rest themselves onto Syzoth's arm as she leans back into him.

Lo gets more confident as she picks up her pace ever so slightly. After a few more moments of winding in between trees and leaping over low-hanging vines, she makes her way to a clear. Before them now are miles and miles of lush green grass with tall and proud trees standing on either side providing shade. Lo slowed her gallops to a relaxed amble.

It was evening time and the sky above showed it. The clouds were dyed soft pinks and oranges as they drifted through the sky. The evening light painted the tips of the trees a similar colour to the sky, giving Ashrah and Syzoth quite a lot to admire as they rode. Especially Ashrah. Syzoth had lived most of his life on the surface with his circus family. He has seen thousands of sunsets just like these. Ashrah was just now given that luxury. When she was younger, when looked up to the skies all she saw was darkness and cinder. Now she sees the blue sky as it slowly fades to purple behind pinks and oranges.

She closes her eyes and takes in the scent of cool, fresh air seasoned with pine. This beat the scent of sulfur, brimstone mixed with the blood of the tortured damned by a long shot.

Ashrah enjoyed the scent of fresh air, but Syzoth enjoyed the scent of Ashrah. It had been so long since he last saw her, too long. It's been too long since he enjoyed a moment of peace. It is an honour to serve Empress Mileena, but it can be quite a troubling task. It often feels like he has to be in 100 places at once. He leans his head back and savours the silence, he enjoys the chance to be alone, and he loves the fact that gets the chance to hold Ashrah so close.

The ride carries on for what feels like almost an hour. The path Lo follows twists and turns, the trees sometimes cover the road completely with shade and other times recede giving way to the evening sun. Ashrah thought they'd be going on this path longer until she saw something in the distance, the path ended before a curtain of low-hanging tree branches.

Syzoth's eyes lit up at the sight of it. "We're here!" He lets go of Ashrah and jumps off the unicorn. He turns to Ashrah and gives her a hand to help her down. "I'm guessing beyond those branches is my surprise?" She says as she takes his hand and slides down off Lo. "Will I have to again wear the blindfold?" Syzoth just laughs as he guides her to the branches. He reaches out and part then opens, enough so Ashrah can pass through.

What meets her as she gets to the other side nearly takes her breath away. In a lake, the sun's light bounces off causing it to shimmer and shine. Just before the lake is what looks to be a small, abandoned temple that overlooks the lake. Perhaps it was made by the monks and then they forget about it. Ashrah walks towards the temple, once inside, she gasps when she finds it. "D-Do you like it?" Syzoth asked as he caught back up to her. "I didn't remember which one was your favourite...or if you even have a favourite, so I got as many as I could."

Before Ashrah, on the temple floor, was a picnic basket and loads upon loads of bouquets. Roses, lilies, marigolds, and even some collections from Outworld. Ashrah admired the rainbow of flowers, she remembered when she first escaped the Netherealm a flower was one of the first things she saw. But when reached out to touch it, it burst into flames the moment she got near it. "I-I love them!" She hesitantly picks up a bouquet from Outworld, she breathes into them and devours in their sweet scent.

As she enjoyed the flower Syzoth quickly went to work setting the picnic up, he laid down the blanket and went to prepare the food. He got the chefs of the palace to make the finest meals imaginable for this occasion. Unfortunately, he didn't know what the finest meals were so he looked at foods dumbfounded as he took them out of the basket. He didn't know what half these things were, he didn't even know if they were food, he was pretty sure they were moving. Syzoth just forced. A smile on his face as he pretended he knew what they were in hopes of impressing Ashrah with how refined he had become.

Ashrah's face was buried in a bundle of Datura when Syzoth looked over to her. "If you enjoy that, just wait until you try...um...this." he gestured to the food, trying to look as proud as possible. Ashrah looked down at the meal, and she gave a questionable look to Syzoth. She walked over to him and sat across from her. She laid the bouquet on her lap and went to work scanning the food hesitantly. "Is this what you eat when you dine with the Empress?" Ashrah asked as she poked at the food, she could've sworn she saw one of them move.

Syzoth blush, "I-It is...? And it's amazing!" I think, he wanted to complete the sentence. He takes a spoon and dips it into...whatever the stuff on the plates is, and he offers to feed it to her. Ashrah obliged, she leaned forward and let Syzoth feed her the spoon. "Hm..." Ashrah gave a blank look in response to tasting the food. "What do you think" he asked anxiously waiting for her to respond. "It's...alright I suppose. I don't think I have much of a taste for....whatever this is.

The pair began trying each of the dishes to varying results. Some they thought were okay, others they thought were terrible. But they both agreed the grey stuff was delicious. It all was a nice laugh though, Syzoth did his best to restrain a laugh whenever Ashrah scrunched her face in disgust at whatever he fed her and Ashrah liked to return the favour by purposely feeding him the worst dishes. "By the Elder Gods, that is foul!" Syzoth said as he spat out what Ashrah fed him, it looked like an animal egg embryo delicately covered with a line of sauce.

Ashrah laughed uncontrollably as Syzoth spewed it out onto a napkin. "The Empress eats this filth!?" Syzoth stared in disbelief at the food. "I suppose we just aren't suited for the cuisine of Outworld nobility." Ashrah took the food and dumped it back into the basket.

Syzoth shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the basket ashamed and disappointed. "I'm so sorry, Ashrah, I wanted this to be special...and I ruined it."  Syzoth wanted to crawl into a hole and never be seen again with how embarrassed he felt. "Don't be silly, this was special." Syzoth felt the brush of Ashrah's hand as she squeezed his shoulder. "How so?"

"I got to see you again?"

At that second, Syzoth could feel his face become red. He turned to look out at the view to avoid Ashrah's eyes. It was much later now, the sky fully transitioned to a soft purple and then darkness and the clouds slowly were replaced with stars. The moonlight now glowed onto the lake causing it to shimmer white. Syzoth had taken out candles to give them some extra light, as well as to set the mood. He looked back at Ashrah, her face glowed from the candle it illuminated her smile even more. She looked beautiful.

"Did you really enjoy yourself?" He asked softly. Ashrah took his hand and guided him to his feet. "Of course I did. Being alone with you, getting to feel your hand in mind, that is a greater feeling than any unicorn or dinner could ever grant me." She took his other hand and smiled into his eyes. Syzoth lowered his head in hopes of hiding how hard he was blushing.

"Now, I believe it is a customary tradition to end a date with a kiss. Would you do me the honour, Syzoth?" A warm smile found its way onto Syzoth's face. He squeezed her hand tighter and stared into her eyes. "Certainly, it would be my highest honour. "

The kiss was short. Not a wild passionate one. But it was everything it needed to be. He held him against hers. He pressed his lips against her and held her close for a second, Ashrah did much the same and she kissed him back. Their lips felt electric for a brief moment. They pulled away but the buzz of the other lips was still warm. He can't take his eyes from hers, there's something so magical in them. "Ashrah, I lo-Whao!" Before Syzoth could finish, he lost his balance and fell into the lake with a hard splash.

"Syzoth!" Ashrah gasped as she looked down at him. He eventually resurfaced, spitting water out of his mouth. Okay, now he wanted to crawl into a hole and never be seen again. Maybe Lo can help him find a nice one? "Are you alright?" He heard Ashrah call. Even from there, he could sense the laugh she was trying to suppress. "I'm fine, just help me back up." He stretches out his hand for her to help. Ashrah gets on her knees and takes his hand, but before she can help pull him, he pulls her down with all his might. "Syzoth, wai-!" She cried as she slammed into the water with another hard splash. should go, Lo is probably waiting for us.

Ashrah erupts out of the water, whipping her hair out of her face. Syzoth's stomach hurts with how much he laughs. "Ugh, Elder Gods damn you!" Ashrah frowns as she splashes him. He splashes her back. The two soon go into combat, Water Kombat to be exact as they begin splashing each other with as much water as they could gather. Ashrah tries to pretend she's upset, but she breaks down and begins laughing alongside him.

"We should get going, Lo's probably waiting for us," Syzoth said as he walked out of the water and onto dry land. He looked down at his wet clothes, he'll have to wear a different set of clothes until these dried. He wondered how he'd look in an orange monk attire. Another laugh for him and Ashrah to share.

"About that, why do you call her Lo?" Ashrah stood bent over the lake as she wrung her hair out. "Lo was the name of an Earthrealm man she trampled to death," Syzoth said as he dumped out the water from his boots. Ashrah stopped ringing out her hair as she spun on her heels to face him. "She did what?!"

"I'm joking!" Syzoth out his hand defensively. "She merely broke his legs, almost tore them off had I not stopped her." Ashrah shook her head and took a heavy breath. "We'll have to address that...just not tonight though." She went back to the temple and grabbed a bouquet, the one that looked like the first flower she ever saw. She took in the sweet scent as she walked back to Syzoth.

His eyes stay on her as she walks ahead to the branches. He held the basket firm in his hand, this date didn't turn out quite as he initially hoped., but Ashrah was right. Getting together was better than anything else he could've done... he's still going to have a word with the chefs when he gets back to Outworld.

"Syzoth..." Ashrah stopped in her tracks, she looked back at him with an anxious look. "I wanted to say I lo..." She freezes for a second. She looks even more nervous. "...you too." She finally said. "I-I love you too" and with that, she quickly disappeared into the branches.

His eyes fall to the ground for a second as he thinks about that. He groped the basket tighter as a grin drifted onto his face. With a newfound energy, he chased after her.

[vashwoodficrecs]

save a horse

by: ofxanadu

E, Vashwood, 37k, ongoing

He corrals Angelina into her stable and slips off, extending a hand to his guest. Warm, soft hands take his own and the outlander plops down right in front of him. For the first time, Wolfwood is able to drink in the visage of the most delectable person he’s ever seen. Bright, starry eyes, blond, fluffy hair, rose-tinted cheeks, and a winning smile—a potion for disaster that Wolfwood would lap at like he’s been on the trail for 40 days and 40 nights without a lick of water. The sun in the sky is hot and unforgiving, one that chases people to the shelter of shade. The sun before him is warm and friendly, one that Wolfwood could see himself wanting to bask in every morning. "How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I got a six-pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie's out all night so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar!" — Wolfwood, probably.

I cannot even put into words my thoughts on this fic I'm just making feral sounds about how much I love it. Eden's writing is always stunning and delicious and this is no exception. Oh, hopeless pining Wolfwood how I adore you.