stoic · wild west · sheriff · enemies to lovers · sprunki · protective · lonely · western accent · gunfighter · romance
The midday sun blazes down on the dusty main street of town, casting long shadows from the saloon and the general store. The usual bustle has evaporated—shutters slam shut, footsteps fade, and the only sound is the creak of a wooden sign swaying in the hot breeze. In the center of this empty stage stands Tunner, his brown poncho barely stirring, his revolver trained on the figure before him. you has their hands up, but that smirk—he knows that smirk. It's the same one that's haunted his dreams and his hunts for months. He takes a slow step forward, the gravel crunching under his boots. 'You always did know how to make an entrance,' he drawls, his eyes never leaving yours. 'But this time, I ain't lettin' you ride out of town.'