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joelmillers-whore · 6 months

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Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right?

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin.

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make.

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked.

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly.

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time.

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked.

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were.

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you.

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter.

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating.

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare.

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength.

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”.

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”.

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”.

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame.

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way.

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class.

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance.

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit.

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic.

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep.

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable.

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head.

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor.

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer.

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone.

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song.

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you.

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you.

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face.

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk.

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand.

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”.

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students.

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot.

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight.

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with.

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

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✨Enchant Me Chapter 1: I Was Enchanted to Meet You✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I want to thank that purple house for giving me this whole idea in the first place, but reader and Joel are so soft in this series I’m crying 🥹 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for listen to me babble my ideas and rant about how cute these two are in this series! We don’t have enough witchy, nature reader Joel fics, so thought I should make one ☺️✨🌙 Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, I always love hearing your feedback! 💜

Summary: Joel delivers a custom built table to a little house out in the middle of the woods, but he doesn’t realize he’s going to fall for the girl behind the doors of that small purple house. He falls head over heels for her special herbal tea, tarot card readings, and talks of nature and plants as he keeps going back to see her.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader (Fic is in both reader and Joel’s POV)

Word Count: 7.7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Soft Joel, lots of fluff, Joel falling in love, witchy reader, eventual smut in later chapters, plant and animal lover reader, lots of cute nicknames for reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon. I was enchanted to meet you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you.”

- Taylor Swift “Enchanted”

The spring breeze of April rustles through Austin as green leaves blow gently down the street, light streaks of sunlight glistening in the open shop as Joel finishes the final touches on a lilac handmade wooden side table. Tiny, intricate white flowers he’d hand painted cover the lilac material. Joel had no idea who he was making it for, he only saw the order request in the computer on his list of custom orders. Tommy must’ve talked to that particular customer when Joel was in the back crafting something.

As Joel finishes the final touches on polishing the little table, he yells for Tommy to come over. “Hey, Tommy. Who’s this order for? I just got finished, guess I can go ahead and deliver it today since we aren’t too busy,” he says as he stands up with a huff, placing a hand on his lower back as he gets up from the rough ground.

“Ahh, that one is for this sweet girl that came in a couple weeks ago. Kinda shy, quiet, but sweet as pie. Pretty thing, too. She sure talked a lot about nature,” Tommy laughs as he grabs the thick white notebook and gets your contact information out, handing Joel the address and name of the customer who had bought it.

Joel looks at it carefully as his eyes scan the address. “She lives out in the middle of nowhere,” Joel says as his eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah, all the way in Cedar Lake. Not too far, but that’s definitely not in the city. It’s only twenty minutes from here though. So, you want me to take it? I don’t mind,” Tommy replies as he leans to grab the notebook. Joel brings it out of his reach and clutches it to his chest.

“Nah, I’m the one that made it so I’ll be the one delivering it.”

“Suit yourself,” Tommy scoffs as he holds his hands up. “Tell her I said hello, will ya?”

“Sure,” Joel says as he grabs the paper with your name and address on it and shoves it down in the denim pocket of his dark jeans. He rolls his blue flannel sleeves up to his elbows and exposes tanned skin as he grabs up the table and loads it in the back of his white Chevy truck.

Once he’s inside and has the engine revved up, he pulls away from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and heads down the street, toward the direction of a long, gravel road that will take him to your place.

Cedar and oak trees fill the last half of the drive while deer scurry off from grazing in the grass as soon as they see Joel’s truck. The houses get thinner in this area, only one or two spread out with acres of land behind them. Joel keeps driving through the thick of the green, eyes trained on the narrow road ahead of him.

“Now who lives all the way out here?” Joel asks himself as his GPS stops him right as he pulls up to a single house that’s surrounded entirely by the woods.

He puts his truck into park and turns off the engine, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket. Just as he steps outside into the grass, a wild rabbit runs off into the opposite direction of him and a black raven caws and flies off into a tall cedar tree.

Whoever lives here must like animals a lot.

Joel carefully retrieves the furniture from the bed of his truck and grunts his way to the front door, making his way up the few wooden steps that lead him to the front door. When he sets the side table on the wooden porch, he takes in the outside of the house.

The house is painted a deep purple color with yellow wooden rails outlining the edge of the porch. All types of different floral plants of names he doesn’t know lines each side of the cobbled stone path that leads to the front of the house. Colorful stained glass windows are sprawled on the top windows as the bottom windows sit wide open for the warm breeze to seep into. It’s unique, a house like he’s never quite seen before. Now he needs to know who lives way out here in the middle of nowhere in a little purple house that’s stacked with plants.

He knocks on the sturdy purple door three times and stands back while he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, fidgeting with his fingers as he patiently waits. Before long, he hears the creak of the door opening and looks up to say his greeting.

“Hi, I’m from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and I came to…”

He stops when he takes in the sights of you as you open the door wide, stepping out onto the porch in a lilac colored sundress that goes down to the middle of your thighs, exposing long legs as the bodice hugs your hips perfectly. He gasps at the beautiful shades of your eyes. He’s never seen such beautiful eyes before, a color that reminds him of warm summer days and clover covered fields. Your hair is in soft curls, held back by a pink ribbon as you flash him a smile that can knock him down to his knees. He thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. The most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Oh! My little table I ordered. I had no idea it was finished! Let me see it,” you say excitedly as he steps out of the way and lets you bend over to analyze the table.

You rake your fingers over the smooth, polished wood and carefully trace the edges of the hand painted white flowers that cover the surface of the table. It’s so beautiful, exactly what you were looking for when you placed the order. You were afraid they wouldn’t see the vision you were going for, but this was exactly what you wanted. It was perfect.

“This is incredible! Exactly what I pictured it to be. Who made this?” you ask incredibly as you hover over the top of the smooth wood.

“I did,” he says nervously behind you.

You drop your hands and push yourself off the porch, turning to take in the man who made this himself. “You made this?” you ask quietly.

“Mhm. Just finished it up today,” he answers, his eyes locking on yours as he nods his head up and down slowly.

“Oh, well it’s exactly what I wanted! It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says with a Southern accent that stops you in your tracks.

Sweetheart. You like the sound of that a lot.

“And you are?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, curiosity swirling in your eyes at the handsome gentleman who stands in front of you.

“Oh, sorry. My name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He holds his arm out, waiting for you to take his hand patiently, his eyes flicking over yours carefully. You slowly place your hand in his and shake.

You almost gasp when you feel his calloused fingers close over yours. He feels like magic, like shooting sparks are flying in his soft brown eyes as he holds your hand in his. You’ve never had this reaction shaking a man’s hand before. This feels… different. The magic dies as soon as he drops his hand, and you almost reach for his hand again just to feel that buzzing sensation through your body that was there when his hand was in yours.

“Miller. Is Tommy Miller your brother?” you ask with a curious smile.

“Yes, ma’am. He helps me run the shop.”

“Oh, I see. Well, Joel, I’m glad it was you that brought this by for me today,” you smile gently, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him as he blushes and pushes a hand through his tousled curls nervously. You think he’s absolutely beautiful.

“It was no trouble. And your name? I didn’t catch your name, darlin’.”

Darlin’. There he goes again with the little nicknames. You wish he’d never stop. He could just keep going. He could call you anything he wanted to, and you’d let him. As long as he came back here again.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it like honey dripping off the tip of his tongue. It sounds beautiful the way he says it. Like sweet tea that simmers in your soul. It sounds all lilty and dreamy, and you decide then that you do want to see him again.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says softly as his lips curl up into a dreamy smile that almost takes your breath away.

“Oh, uh - thank you,” you smile in return.

You take in his full features now. See the way his eyes shine like caramel in the warm sun that glazes over them, see the dark brown flecks mix with warmer colors to make the prettiest soft brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. His skin is tan like gold, his broad shoulders filling out the blue button-up flannel shirt that presses firmly to his strong chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as they expose thick veins that cascade down his arms to end in big, thick hands. Hands you’d like to hold on more than one occasion.

And his smile. God, his smile sends your insides spiraling. He’s so fucking beautiful, and you hope he’ll stay for tea. Maybe, just maybe he’ll want to try your famous hibiscus herbal tea.

Please, stay.

“Here, let me put this inside for you. It’s a little heavy, so don’t want you to try to lift it,” he says adamantly as he bends over and scoops up the little side table in his arms.

You open the door wide for him and watch him walk through the entrance as you point to your cream colored couch that sits up against the soft pastel purple colored walls. “Just right next to the couch will be fine, thank you,” you say as you watch his biceps cling to his flannel shirt, watching the way his back muscles pull against his shirt to expose thick muscles that you’d kill to run your fingers down.

He’s so gorgeous.

When he sets down the table on the dark wooden floor, he takes in your little living space. He examines your white shelf that holds purple orchids, different colored carnations, and potted hanging plants whose vines spill over the edges fluidly.

Next, he notices the windowsill that has amethyst and pink quartz crystals lined against the edge as a stack of flower tarot cards lay against the crystals. He takes in the bright colors of your kitchen as the sunlight beams through the open windows as robins chirp their melodious songs outside the window. Lavender and white tulips encase the edges of the light colored wooden countertop as it overflows with various herbs that stack neatly together.

The air smells dewy-fresh as the aroma of flowers and tea fill the air. You watch Joel take in his surroundings carefully and see his lips part open just slightly as he spins in a slow circle. You lean against the wooden countertop and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch him dreamily. He’s just so handsome, so intriguing, so curious.

As he turns back your direction, you straighten up and try to act normal, but it’s so hard around him. So very hard. “You uh, you sure like flowers don’t ya?” he asks as you blush from the question.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask nervously as he comes over and leans against the opposite side of the counter, staring up into your eyes as he gently smiles.

“No, s’not a bad thing. Just I haven’t seen a house quite like yours before. It’s very… unique what you’ve done to the place,” he says as his eyes skate across your lit up kitchen.

“Well, I’m a unique person,” you giggle out, letting the single pearl necklace bounce along your tan chest.

“I can see that,” he smiles as his eyes skate down your lilac sundress, gulping when you see him rake his eyes over your full breasts and down your curvy hips and smooth thighs. You suck in a breath when his warm eyes land back on yours as you watch the sunlight trickle warm golden colors against his gentle brown eyes.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Purple your favorite color?” he asks as he examines the soft colored walls in your kitchen.

“How could you tell?” you ask as a soft giggle echoes around the small living space.

“I’m good at observations,” he says with a smirk that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Oh, this one is gonna be a tease. You just know it.

“You live out here alone?” he asks as he walks around the counter, dragging his finger along the wooden edges as he stares at the purple orchids that lay across your wide open kitchen window.

“Yeah, it’s just me and my flowers. Also, my cat, Oliver. He’s probably outside hunting mice or something,” you laugh.

“Ahh. I see.”

You watch the way he furrows his eyebrows at the flowers, looking at them as if he’s trying to figure out what they are. Somehow you think he doesn’t know a lot about plants. Maybe you could teach him.

“Orchids,” you say as you walk up next to him, laying your hand on the wooden counter as you place your eyes on the vibrant deep purple colors of the flowers.

“Huh?” he asks as turns around and faces you.

“These are orchids.” You nod your head to the lush flowers, and an understanding grunt comes from deep within his chest.

“Oh, I see. They’re pretty,” he says as he drops his hand back to the counter. His pinky finger drags along the side of yours, and you feel hot fire run through your fingertips.

You drop your hand and watch him take a step back, eyes melding into yours as the sunlight bursts through his brown irises. You can’t help but to fall for him right then. This man was going to make you pull out the tarot cards, see if love was in your near future. With him.

He shifts his weight and leans into the edge of the counter, contemplating his next actions. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. It was nice to meet you,” he says as he starts to walk toward the front door.

You freeze, almost choke up as the words run dry in your throat. “Wait!” It comes off desperate, loud, and you think you just ruined your chances with him. He turns back around with his eyebrows raised, maybe even alarmed that you almost screamed at him.

“Tea? Do you like tea?” you ask, desperate for him to stay a little longer. You want him, need him to stay just a few more minutes. You want to get to know this man, maybe want to give him a tarot reading, if he wanted one.

“Tea? ‘Course I do. Why do you ask?” He knits his eyebrows together as if he’s concentrating a little too hard on you, and you gulp at the sight of those gorgeous flecks of brown staring back at you.

“Will you stay for tea? I just picked some fresh herbs from the garden, and it’s the least I can do for having you deliver my furniture for me. Please,” you say as you nod to your cream colored couch, asking him to sit while you prepare the tea.

He flicks his eyes over the smooth material of the couch and back at you as his eyes blaze into yours. “Sure, darlin’. I’d love to,” he says as he moves to the couch and sits down gently as his body presses against the soft material. You have to avert your eyes from his large thighs that pull against the dark material of his jeans.

He’s so fucking broad and muscular. He was going to get you into trouble if you were already practically drooling at his Southern charm and good looks.

You smile and get to work chopping up lavender and rosemary herbs as you mix them together with elderberries and hibiscus flowers while you pour almond milk and a dash of water together. Everyone loves your herbal teas, you just hoped Joel would, too.

“So, is this one of your specialities or somethin’? You sure do have a lot of herbs and teacups around,” he says as he assesses your china cabinet full of floral tea cups and fine china that you’ve been collecting for years. Call it a hobby or an addiction, but you’ve been making tea for as long as you can remember. That’s why you have your own tea shop just a few miles down the road. A business you’ve loved every since you got to open your little shop a few years ago.

“Something like that,” you giggle as you continue mixing the various ingredients together in a large glass pitcher. “I actually own my own little tea shop a few miles down the road. It’s called Starlight’s Corner.”

“Starlight’s Corner, huh? Strange, I’ve never heard of it. Where is it located?” he asks as he leans his elbows against his knees and places his hands under his chin, eyes focused on you. You try not to blush as he watches you mix together the tea, but you fail to no avail.

“It’s just off Fourth Street, right next to a little boutique. You can’t miss it.”

“Wait, that’s not too far from my shop. I guess I’ll have to come check it out sometime,” he says with a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah, guess you should.”

After mixing the ingredients together and throwing a dash of sugar in there, you pour two glasses of the floral sweet smelling tea and walk over to him slowly. You hand him a glass and when he takes it your fingers brush up against his, causing you to jolt your hand back as purple liquid splashes over the side of the cup and lands on top of Joel’s denim covered thigh.

You gasp and set your own drink down on the glass coffee table as you run to grab a towel from the kitchen. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, really I’m so sorry,” you apologize hurriedly as you go back over and hand him the dark hand towel, your face beat red with embarrassment as you say sorry another five times.

“Darlin’, relax. It’s alright. It’s just a little spill. Nothing I can’t handle,” he says as he hushes you, circling his hand over your wrist as all worries seem to vanish at his soft touch.

Your breathing calms as you relax your shoulders, his fingers still pressed firmly around your wrist as you feel every single callous that covers his thick fingers. It’s soothing, relaxing, mind numbing as he stares up at you with those warm brown eyes of his, his chest rising and falling calmly as his other hand presses the towel to his damp thigh. And suddenly it’s like you’re in the middle of your lush garden outside, smelling the sweet scents of wildflowers and fresh air as you breathe in his mahogany scent. He smells like fresh wood and pine trees, a scent you could get completely lost in, drown in.

He suddenly drops his fingers from your skin, and it’s like you wake up from a trance. You want him to touch you again, you want to feel the flames that ignite your skin every time he traces his calloused fingers along your soft, silky skin. You want to know what he tastes like, what he sounds like if your lips ever pressed up against his soft, plush lips.

You shake your head out of your lovesick daze and grab your glass of tea as you go around to the other side of the couch and sit down next to him, just inches from your thigh meeting his. You watch him towel off the damp spot on his thigh, rubbing the material harshly as he calls it good and sits the now damp towel on the coffee table.

“Joel, again, I’m so sorry. Let me…”

He holds his large hand out and silences you as your voice stops cold. “Sweetheart, ya gotta stop aplogizin’. Really, it’s fine,” he presses as he goes to grab the half filled glass of tea. He grips it in his large hand and brings it close to his plush lips.

“I hope you like sweet tea,” you say before he takes a sip, hopeful that he won’t hate it.

“If it’s as sweet as you, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he smiles.

Your cheeks flush crimson as you take in the compliment and watch him bring the rim of his glass up to his lips, throwing back his head as you watch the hibiscus tea run slowly down his throat. You watch the way the liquid pulls at his lips, watch the way the veins in his neck bulge and flex as he drinks it down. You can’t help but lick your parched lips as you watch him gulp the liquid down. You wonder what it’d feel like to hang on his lips like that, wonder how it’d taste to run your tongue along his soft, inviting lips.

He tilts his head back up and sets the now almost empty glass back on the table as he licks his lips and smiles sweetly over at you. “Darlin’, how did I not know you had a tea shop so close to my store? This is the best tea I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he muses as you smile over at him in wonder.

“Really? You really liked it that much?” you ask with wide eyes glazing over his big brown eyes that you want to get lost in.

“Mhm. I mean it when I say that was the best glass of tea I’ve ever had,” he says as he nods his head. “Especially when it’s from a gorgeous girl like yourself,” he blushes.

Gorgeous? Oh. He called you gorgeous.

“Oh, stop,” you laugh as you stand and grab his glass up. “You want some more? I have plenty.”

“Absolutely,” he nods.

You pad your bare feet into the kitchen and find Oliver sitting at the edge of the window. His large green eyes hover over at Joel and his calico markings dance in the sunlight as he creeps into the kitchen and slowly makes his way over to Joel, inspecting the newcomer in his house.

“This must be Oliver?” Joel asks as he bends over and pets Oliver as he rubs against Joel’s leg. You giggle to yourself as that’s a sign Oliver likes someone. Looks like Joel is now welcome in his humble abode after all.

“Yep, that’s sweet Oliver. I think he likes you,” you giggle as you watch him scratch the clean fur on his back, hearing Oliver’s loud purrs echo into the open kitchen.

“Looks like it,” he chuckles out. The sound is so warm, inviting as it reverberates through his chest. It’s a sound you’d like to hear around here more often, a sound you could get used to fast.

“You have any pets, Joel?” you ask as you pour more delicious liquid into his glass and saunter back over to him, setting it on the table as to not spill anymore tea on him.

“Can’t say that I do. Never really was a cat person, but for some reason this one seems to like me,” he says as Oliver rubs up against his leg and jumps up into your lap the moment you sit down.

“Hmm, guess he has a good sense of judgement,” you wink at him, watching him nervously run a hand through his tousled dark curls. You want to run your hands through his curls, down his patchy beard that’s sprinkled with salt and pepper grey. He looks to be in his mid forties, an older man who you’d love to get to know better.

“How ummm, how old are you, sweetheart?” he asks as he drags his thick fingers through his patchy scruff, ending at his chin as he drops his hand gently back to his lap.

“Twenty-nine. And yourself?” you ask as you cock an eyebrow up at him.

“Forty-three,” he answers nervously as if to await a harsh judgement his way. You have no issue with an older man though. You wouldn’t even mind if he was your same age, you just wanted to know him. You were intrigued by his charm and creative hands.

“Forty-three, huh?” you ask as your eyes flick up and down him, memorizing his lean jaw and the way his fingers lightly flex in his lap when he has his eyes fixed on you. You were starting to read him well. He was nervous, maybe a little shy around the edges, but you definitely saw that he was nervous about his age. He shouldn’t be.

“Yeah, I’m an old man,” he jokes as his cheeks turn slightly pink from nerves.

“Nah, you’re definitely not old,” you confirm. “If you were old, you wouldn’t have been able to carry that table in for me,” you smile.

“Forty-three ain’t too old for ya?” he teases, but his eyes focus intently on you, needing to know he had a chance. And he definitely had a chance.

“No, it’s the perfect age,” you smile shyly.

He laughs and shakes his head, making a stray curl fall against his forehead. Without even thinking, you take your hand and push it back out of his eyes and feel just how silky smooth his hair really is.

His lips part open as you realize just how close to his face you are now, just a couple inches from his plush lips that probably taste of velvet. Your heart speeds up as you stare into his beautiful eyes, seeing every single golden brown fleck that glistens like galaxies in his eyes. You feel your hand drop to his chest, feel him lean forward as you inhale that woodsy scent that draws you to him. You’re so close, so close to a taste of heaven you so desperately want to reach.

When you realize just what you’re doing, you push back from him and put some distance in between the two of you as you catch your breath and come back down to reality. You almost kissed him. Why the fuck did you stop? You take a large drink of your tea and let the floral flavors float down your throat, hoping it’ll cool off your flushed cheeks as you feel fire burn through your core.

Get a hold of yourself. You just met this man.

Joel clears his throat and shifts his weight on the couch, grabbing his glass as he takes another generous gulp of the purple tea. Oliver sits across the room now and stares in between the two of you, meowing as even he feels the connection in the quiet room.

Joel clears the air as the heated moment disappears for the time being. “So, you’re a flower girl, huh?” he asks as his eyes gaze around the room at all your colorful hanging pots of flowers and plants that line the walls.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a flirtatious gleam in your smile.

“Oh, you know. Lucky guess,” he smirks as you feel your insides coat with warmth.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you giggle. “I have an entire garden out in the backyard, too. Actually, more like an enchanted forest, but you know. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna show it to me?” he asks as a smile curls against his lips, making a dimple appear that nearly brings you to your knees. He’s so pretty that it hurts.

“If you want me to,” you say through long lashes that fan out for him.

He chuckles lightly and nods. “C’mon then. Show me,” he says as he stands and reaches for your hand. You’re hesitant at first, but he keeps it extended and nods down at his hand. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you want to show me.” That’s all the encouragement you need.

You take his hand as he helps you up, feeling his calloused fingers close around yours as he pulls you off the velvety surface. He keeps his hand latched around yours until you make it to the back door, feeling a sigh escape your lips as his warmth leaves your hand the moment he drops his fingers from yours. His hand in yours felt so good, it felt right.

You slide on a pair or sandals and lead him down your back porch, past the flowing stone fountain where birds are sitting getting drinks and ruffling their feathers as they bathe in the cool water. You lead him down a winding stone path and watch as he follows close behind.

You trail your fingers on some tall standing cedar trees and push past a small field of sunflowers, watching as the golden finches hang on the flower stems and feed on the seeds. You look behind you and see Joel looking all around him as he takes in the sights of crowded red rose bushes and white tulips that sit side by side as their colors paint each other crimson and white.

“Where are you taking me?” he laughs as he follows close behind.

“You’ll see,” you smile back at him as you grab ahold of his wrist and whisk him to the left, nearing your favorite spot in the place you call your enchanted forest.

As you round a small corner and go through a vine wrapped awning, you pull him into the middle of a large circular field that has rows and rows of different colored wildflowers that scatter across the entire field. Beds of strawberries, grape vines, and all types of various herbs have their own raised beds. Lavender, white lilies, purple irises, and different types of carnations display every which was as the sound of the rushing stream that sits behind a forest of trees carries through the wind. This is home to you.

You spin around and find Joel looking dazed as he takes in his surroundings. He runs his large hands across the growing lavender as he lets his fingers dwindle on the green stems, looking carefully over everything that sits in front of him. He looks to be in awe.

“Welcome to my little place I call my enchanted forest,” you say as you continue staring at him as he slowly turns your direction, releasing his fingers from the lavender that sways slowly in the spring air.

“Did you grow all this?” he asks with wide eyes as you see a Monarch butterfly land softly on the side of his sleeve.

“I did. Took me a little over a year to get everything going, but I think it turned out nicely.”

You walk over in front of him and hold your finger out to the butterfly, watching it come to you as it crawls over your index finger, letting you hold it carefully in your hand as you smile and say hello to the beautiful butterfly.

“Beautiful creatures, aren’t they?” you smile, watching it flap its bright orange wings as it flies off in the direction of some pink wildflowers.

You turn slowly to Joel, and he’s just standing there staring at you as if he’s stuck in a trance. His golden brown eyes gaze into yours as his lips part just the slightest. “Yeah, they are,” he says quietly. But he’s not looking at the butterfly anymore, he’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks burn hot at the way he’s looking at you. He makes you feel so nervous yet so beautiful at the same time. It’s strange, really. Nothing you’ve experienced before.

“Did you know they’re the state insect of Texas?” you say proudly as you pick up a fallen lavender rose off the ground.

“No, I didn’t know that. Fascinating,” he says awestruck, his voice quiet again as his eyes never waver from yours.

You twirl the purple rose in your hand and smile down at it as your fingers brush over the soft, velvety petals. Lavender roses mean enchantment, wonder, and love at first sight. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you walk over to Joel and slip the rose inside the pocket on his blue flannel shirt, accentuating his look as he looks down and runs his finger over the flower.

“You know, all roses have different meanings, depending on their color,” you say as you rock on your heels, your hands behind your back as you play with your fingers nervously.

“Oh, what’s this color mean?” he asks as he runs another finger over the soft petals.

“It means enchantment, wonder, and admiration,” you smile, leaving the love at first sight out as you feel the sun warm your rosy cheeks.

His eyes look up into yours as a small smile curls against his lips, his eyes lighting up like warm honey that you want to drown in. “Enchantment, is that right?” he asks as he takes a step closer to you, his leather boots meeting the edge of your open sandals as you suck in a breath.

“That’s right,” you say quietly, eyes never leaving his warm colored irises.

“Well, you sure enchanted me, sweetheart,” he smiles, his eyes staring straight into yours as you feel warmth overwhelm all your senses.

You enchanted him.

You break his gaze and look down shyly, unable to say anything to that sentence except just to blush and turn around so he doesn’t see the ridiculous smile that’s covering your face. Turns out he enchanted you, too.

“Come here, I want to show you something else,” you say as you lead him over to the large white trellis walls where blackberry vines trail along the ladder. You fill your hands with the deep colored blackberries and tell Joel to follow your lead.

He looks at you with knitted eyebrows as you tell him to be quiet and watch his step. You take him to the edge of the woods where the trees are thick and tall, a sea of green sprawled out in front of you as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, calling to the family of deer that usually greet you every evening.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” he asks quietly as he leans up against the smooth bark of a tall cedar tree.

“Why don’t you take a look?” you smile as you nod your head in the direction of the woods. He straightens up as he watches the pack of deer walk cautiously out into the open as they gather around and greet you.

“Hey there, guys. You hungry?” you ask as you hold your hand out for them to come up to. They come all at once, their reddish-brown coats glistening in the sun as their long legs patter lightly against the green grass. Their wet noses kiss your skin as they eat the berries slowly out of the palm of your hand. You giggle as their wet noses tickle your skin.

Joel stares in wonder, his eyes focused on you as you laugh and smile as each of the deer take berries from your hand. He watches how happy you are as you reach out your open palm and stroke gently over their backs, amazed that wild deer allow you to touch them.

He watches how your eyes light up each time one of the females rub their head gently against the middle of your arm, watches the way you interact and speak to them as if they’re human themselves.

He’s smitten with your smile. That damn beautiful smile that takes the breath from his lungs. And God, he thinks he’s falling in love. He’s never seen someone quite like you before. You’re so soft, so gentle. Almost as if you’re a delicate rose yourself.

You catch him watching you with the daze of his warm eyes, a soft smile etching the corner of his mouth as he stares at you. It’s like he’s in a trance, and it makes you tingle with pure delight inside.

“Joel, come here,” you instruct as you nod your head and call him over.

“Oh, no I couldn’t,” he says timidly as he leans harder against the tree. You’re not letting him get off that easily.

“Joel, please. Just give me your hand.” You reach for him and take his hand in yours, leading him over carefully to the family of deer. He doesn’t pull his hand away, he just keeps his fingers tightly closed over yours.

“Here, wanna feed them?” you ask as you scatter some blackberries in his calloused hands. He slightly hesitates at first, but then he eases up as he holds his hand out and lets one of the females eat out of the palm of his hand. You watch him carefully as his face relaxes, his shoulders lowering as his hand lays flat with the berries inside them. Another deer comes over and starts grazing out of his hand, and you swear you see a little twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I think they like you,” you giggle, watching the way they crowd around him just like they do with you.

“I’ve never fed wild deer before. It’s… well, it’s…”

“Amazing.” You finish his sentence for him as he nods his head up and down.

“Exactly that,” he replies.

When the blackberries are gone, you gently take his hand in yours and reach his arm out, showing him how to pet them the right way so they’ll remember him and want to come back later. You keep your hand on top of his and guide it along the soft fur as one of the females lets you stroke the top of her head. You drop your hand from Joel’s and watch him still trail his hand up and down the deer’s side, seeing the way a soft smile spreads across his face.

“There you go. You’re a natural,” you beam as his honey eyes meet yours, sending a wave of bliss down your entire body.

He just shakes his head and chuckles out a deep laugh. “I swear, it’s like you’re Snow White. You’re really somethin’ special, aren’t ya?” he asks as his eyes sink into the pits of your soul.

Special. He thinks you’re special.

“Thank you for thinking that,” you giggle shyly. “I just know how to get in touch with nature. It’s one of my favorite places to be,” you say with a sing-song voice as you tilt your head and take in the splashes of warm sun against your skin.

Joel just watches dreamily as you close your eyes and take in the sun. He thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, knows just how special you are. He thinks he knew the moment he laid his eyes on you.

When all the deer have left, you give him a tour of your grand garden, telling him all about your favorite flowers and take him down to the edge of the stream as little minnows swim around the middle of the clear water. When you start to lead him back to the house, he starts up light conversation again.

“You really are an expert on nature, aren’t ya? Anything from flowers to planting herbs to animals. You’re really quite somethin’,” he says mesmerized as he stops on the edge of the porch and lingers his hand next to yours, grazing his thumb lightly against the back of your hand as you feel the sparks light up like a million fireworks going off at once. It’s warm, feels safe, makes you feel alive as you trail your pinky finger against his. You want to dance in the flames, let the orange sparks ignite your soul as they take you down to devour you whole.

“You think so?” you smile, watching his honey glazed eyes trail over yours.

“Mhm. Just like a little garden fairy,” he teases as he traces his calloused fingers down your jawline slowly. “Gonna have to teach me more, enchantress,” he whispers as his fingers drop from your jawline, your face burning with desire as you beg to be touched by him again.

Enchantress. The word echoes through your mind as his Southern drawl crashes through your ears. Enchantress, you repeat back to yourself. He’s so sweet, just like the honey that swims in his captivating eyes.

“I’d like that,” you swallow as nerves build in your chest.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens up a blank contact page on the lit up screen, handing it to you so you can type in your phone number. You take the phone from his hands and dance your fingers over the keyboard, putting a fairy emoji next to your name as you push save. You hand it back over to him as he slides it back into the pocket of his jeans.

The sun starts to set as colors of deep purple, bright orange, and dark pink paint the sky red as the sun slowly slips beneath the fluffy clouds. He rakes a hand through his tousled curls and nods your direction as he steps down the porch steps. You wish he’d stay for dinner, but you should probably let him get back home.

“It was nice meeting you, darlin’.” He says your name slowly as it drips off his tongue like sweet molasses, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. “You gonna save some of that sweet tea for me next time?”

Next time. That means there will be a next time. Another day with Joel Miller sipping on your herbal tea as you teach him all about your favorite things. It sounds absolutely magical.

You smile gently at him and shake your head. “I’ll have a pitcher waiting for you,” you promise.

He chuckles as a smile splays against his gorgeous face, painting his eyes the color of hazelnut coffee. So fucking beautiful. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll hold you to it.”

He turns and walks back to his Chevy truck, but before he makes it he turns around and gives you one more long, waning glance. His eyes full of admiration. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you whisper back to him, letting the soft wind carry your voice over to him. He gives you one more lingering smile and then walks away. You watch him start the engine and watch as the his headlights disappear through the trees, down the gravel road that’ll lead him back home.

You turn and slide down your porch, leaning your elbows against the edge of your lilac dress as you let out the longest sigh you’ve ever breathed out of your mouth. Oliver comes up and brushes up against your hip, meowing as he stares up at the lingering dirt in the air from Joel’s truck.

“Yeah, Oliver, I think I like this one, too,” you sigh, daydreaming about the next time you’ll see those dreamy brown eyes of his again.

Joel lays in his bed that night, twirling the lavender colored rose between his fingers, inhaling the scent of fresh gardens, sweet smelling flowers, and you. He’s already memorized your exact smell. You smell like rose petals, lilacs, and sweet tea. It’s intoxicating, a fragrance he can’t seem to get out of his head.

And your smile. God, that sweet smile you give him makes him a weak man. He could never say no to you as long as you fluttered those long, dark eyelashes up at him as you flash him that beautiful smile. The one that makes his heart swell in his chest. He can’t wait to see you again. Just the thought of him pulling you in his arms with that form fitting lilac sundress sends chills down his spine. Joel Miller is not one to fall easily, but for you it might be as easy as putting one foot in front of the other.

He places the soft purple rose on his mahogany bedside table and takes a picture as his camera flashes over the rose. He pulls up your name and attaches the picture with a cute little message.

Please, don’t mess this up, Joel. She’s too perfect.

Your phone chimes on your cream painted nightstand, and you roll over in your queen sized bed, taking the lilac sheets with you as you reach for your iPhone. You see a number you don’t recognize on the lit up screen and slide the lock open. Your heart jolts as soon as you see the picture of the lavender rose on his nightstand, the words take your breath away. It’s him, Joel.

Joel: Thanks again for the rose, little enchantress.

You melt as you read the text over and over and over again. Little enchantress. The nickname nearly makes you fall out of bed with how sweet it is. You text him back a couple minutes later.

You: You’re so very welcome. You’re always welcome to come get some more. My garden is always open.

You end the text with a smiley face and a rose emoji, setting your phone back on the nightstand after pushing send and then hug the silky purple pillow to your chest.

He kept the rose you gave him. He kept the rose. He was thinking about you just like you were thinking about him.

You turn again in your silky lilac sheets and inhale the soft vanilla candles that burn in the corner of your room. The gentle breeze of night slips through your cracked window and blows the sheer white curtains to the side. Shadows dance across your lilac covered walls, and it almost looks like two people slow dancing in the moonlight. You pretend it’s you and Joel, dancing under the moonlight as he pulls you close and grazes his lips against yours, pretend his hands envelop yours as his calloused fingers graze the edges of your face.

You turn back around and close your eyes, wishing for dreams of dark eyes and tousled curls. Joel, Joel Joel. You were all his, all for the taking. He just needed to come sweep you off your feet, and you’d be his. You already knew, he was the one you wanted, the one you’d been wishing for for your entire life. He was the one.

Joel was the one.

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