#Lift Trucks Market

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Animal Town (2) | Only Human

Part 1

You awake from your midday nap to the sounds of shouts from a man and a woman. Sounding like the latter is in distress you immediately run for your bat opening up the door facing the road. To find a billy goat man pulling a cow woman towards your doorstep; similar to their animal counterparts the man is short and wide sporting a dirtied tank top sleek with sweat. The female cow being pulled by tiny horns on her head is bent awkwardly wearing a revealing top with underwear and a jockstrap. Before you need to say anything the billy goat man is gruffing in your direction.

“Oh, so this is where the rumored human is. Well, aren’t you pretty?”

You don’t bother answering that. “What are you doing to here and what are you doing to her?”

Your question has him looking at the crying girl and spitefully pulling her closer as her knees buckle to the ground. All the while she��s crying and pleading incoherently. None of that seems to bother the goat man though as he spits in disgust.

“I’m showing this heifer ain’t nobody gonna want her! Dry as the Sahara this cow is she ain’t give make me any money for the food she eats.”

For emphasis he throws her to the ground, waiting for her to crawl back to him. When she opens her mouth to continue pleading he kicks the sandy dirt in her face. It makes you sick. 

“I’ll take her.”

They both look up at you in surprise. The billy goat man belts out in laughter as a disgusting smirk spreads on his face. 

“Oh, I see! Looking for another kind of milk, huh? Good luck with that!” He kicks at her again as he turns back to his truck. “Enjoy it Heifer you might actually be of worth for once.”

As he speeds off in his rickety, rusted truck she cries out making a desperate attempt to follow. Tripping over the dirt, barely a couple steps in; scraping her knees in her unconventional wardrobe. She crumples into herself crying with her hoarse voice, you let her go on for awhile before lifting her up and into the house.

You don’t know the ethics or the inner workings of farming when it comes to hybrids. Only barely catching the surface of the unregulated and often cruel practices that ensue because it’s a market for hybrids to be typically successful. With this in mind your careful to be gentle to not take it personally when she refuses to speak to you. You can’t imagine what she’s gone through.

“Here’s a towel and some soap and a washcloth. I ran a bath for you.”

“.....”

“I’ll come check on you in a bit. Take your time.”

She only wordlessly follows your commands with a sullen look on her face. Even when Titan comes around poking and prodding at the new face, she hardly reacts. 

“Hey, you! What’s your problem, huh? Why aren’t you smiling, huh? Why are you wearing (Y/n)’s clothes? It’s not fair!”

“Hey Titan give her space she’s having a rough day!”

“Well when I’m sad I just go to you. Why can’t she do that?”

“Sometimes I just don’t make everybody happy, Titan. And that’s okay.”

“That’s stupid.”

“.....Waaaaaaaaa”

“Titan!”

“Sorry!”

After canceling your dinners with the neighbors for the week much to their displeasure you settle her into a bedroom close to yours. Just in case. It isn’t until the next morning that you wake to tears on your face. Sitting above you her bust taking up most of your vision is the cow woman silently crying as she pulls at her teats only for nothing to come out. 

“I’m useless. I can’t even do this for you!”

You spend the day comforting the cow woman who’s drenching herself in endless tears. With lots of assurance that you ask for nothing from her and talk to her about her ‘job’ she finally opens up.

“...It’s Eudora.”

“Eudora…that’s a beautiful name.”

“It was what they called my mother before…he…took over. She never officially bequeath it to me…because she never got to retire.” 

Lots of hugs and praise are what fills your days with Eudora. Breaking the unhealthy practices regarding eating and what she did throughout the day. Instead of letting her lay in bed and stew in her dark thoughts, you invite her to your picnics and follow after Titan as he explores the groves of your property. Without the fear of not producing milk or verbal abuse she finally starts to smile and actually taking your advice. 

“You are a queen Eudora, just like the others at that farm.”

“Hahaha me? A queen?”

“Yes!”

“Is this some city thing you guys call people?”

“Kind of but the point is, is that you barely realize how gorgeous and desirable you are just because. It’s a way to remind you of that.”

“....Wow…that’s really sweet, (Y/n)....”

“Just being honest–”

“That’s not fair if she’s your queen I wanna be your king!”

“Titan, she’s not mine. She’s nobody’s but her own.”

“💜”

“Gross. Can I still be your king (Y/n)!?”

She really starts to settle in as your roommate, helping you with your growing list of chores. Learning alongside to cook with you as you entertain the neighbors that continue to visit so eagerly. Despite letting herself get pushed to the side when they come around she’s really come into herself. Taking the clothes you’ve given her and styling it into something that works for her. Spending time and your money into her appearance. And if that wasn’t great enough she woke up to a curious surprise. 

“AAAAAhhhh!”

“W-what’s wrong!?”

“Milk spots!”

“What?”

“I’ve got milk spots! I’m leaking!”

Turns out all her body needed was a little TLC and it felt the need to lactate better than she’s ever had before. Days in the past spent blissfully walking through your fields are spent milling herself into whatever glasses you have. As it continues it gets worse better enough so that she eventually has to call on you to help. It’s a tad awkward for her to fling the maternity breast pump you bought for her as she demands you do it for her. 

“E-eudora c’mon I’ve never done anything like this I’m not going to—”

“NO!! I NEED YOU TO DO THIS! Otherwise it’s going to take all day!”

So there goes an hour in the morning to help her release the gallons of milk her happy body produces. Constantly hearing the wanton moans of the cow woman you’re doing such a big favor. When you're finished, you have Tank frantically sniffing you both for some odd reason as he comments about the suspicious noises he was hearing.....from miles away. Eudora doesn’t bother clearing up the misunderstanding you just aren’t picking up on.

“So I believe you too were awfully loud this morning”

“Oh, you heard us, did you? Lucky dog, I’m sure you wish you were in my position.”

“Uhm I don’t know why Tank would want to do what you were doing.”

Tank is whining. “It doesn’t smell like what I think it was.”

“Ha just because you can’t smell it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“Well if you’re smelling milk then that’s accurate. Eudora made way more than we can cook with so we’re going to take it to the market today.” 

“oh…milk….The kind that comes from-?”

“Her? Yeah. What kind of milk could I be talking about?”

“Come on, (Y/n)! We’re going to lose daylight talking to him.”

“I–I–wanna come too!”

With all the publicity from the suddenly amazing milk from the odd human that’s recently moved in floats around. Of course, the sweaty gross billy goat is circling back to your place. Spitting and pointing when you finally come out to the enraged short man. The cow woman and the dog boys on your property at the time are all on guard.

“I want ‘em back! You cheated me you hairless skank!!!”

“You can’t have her if she doesn’t want to go!”

“Why you–”

“Grrrr!”

“Wait (Y/n)...I’ll handle this.”

She agrees to go with him. Kissing you on the cheek as she promises she’ll return by tonight. It feels like you’ve failed as she walks into the passenger seat with her now confident strut and proud smile in an outfit she feels comfortable in. It feels like you’ve lost that is until that rickety truck pulls up again in the dead of night. Tiffany staying up with you after attempting to put you to sleep and joining you as you run to see if your friend truly had returned. 

“I’m back~!” 

“Eudora!” 

The hug is your victory and it’s also a little off center. 

“Uh, heels?”

“A gift from the girls back home. Turns out the ownership of the farm was recently called into question and I’ve recently been included in a new business venture. An opening was recently made.” 

“Does this mean you’ll be moving in back there?”

Eudora hates how eager Mama Tiffany sounds with her speeding tail.

Eudora delights in the wagging slowing down with her next words

“No, I just figure I’ll be contributing a bit more to the home. Is that alright (Y/n)?”

“Of course, I’m so proud of you Eudora!”

Mama Tiff is livid along with her sons as she watches the cow-woman move in with designer bags and start paying to reinforce the fence on your property starting with the flap Titan loves sneaking in through. From then on she too comes with you when you head into town, not afraid to pull down her designer pink glasses to verbally put down anyone still brave enough to talk down to you. But by now it isn’t all hateful talks, she’s still chasing off anyone with mildly too positive intentions.

“Look feline if you don’t back off now I might be convinced not to starve your family.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Ah, but I can. Would you like to see?”

She’s sure she doesn’t need the extra help from your puppy neighbors but she’ll take it. If only to keep her nails clean, she’ll stick to her own strengths. Happily pulling you behind your market stalls because she desperately needs to be milked. She only trusts you–her human to do such a thing. No one else in this town is worthy of squeezing the liquid magic she can create than you– her dear one and only human.

“Come (Y/n) I need you. You are my special human—the only human I trust to help me fuel my empire. You won’t refuse me, right?”

Part 3: Here

Taglist: @midnight-nightmares @xrenka @candlesworlds-blog @00hellohello00 @lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 06 - rut

price x f!reader | 2.8k words cw: John POV, brief mention of food/diet, slight dehumanization, mean!Price, breeding kink, dubcon/coercion, italics stan, abrupt ending because look at that wc summary: john takes his au jus. banner by @/cafekitsune

John can’t help but watch as she licks a stray drop of juice from her lip.

The sight sends a jolt coursing through him, cock hardening at the thought of those lips wrapped around it. He’s only had her once since dropping his bag at the door, and his mind fills with all the ways he plans to have her next.

Tempting sight. His gaze weighs heavy, an unsated predator a table width away from a piece of meat and her steak.

It’s an ugly thought. One that comes unbidden, released with the onset of his rut. A shallow wave of guilt laps against the remains of his dignity and lucidity, but soon that tide’ll go out for a few days. At that point, there’ll be no regret. No keeping the ugly in.

His hand flexes around his fork, the utensil digging into his own cut. It’s no use trying to distract himself, watching the juices that seep from it. Immediately thinking of the slick that pours like a tap between her legs. The thought has him smirking to himself, anticipation buzzing in his veins. 

“Enjoying your meal?” He asks with a bite, eyes fixed to hers.

She pauses mid-chew, her free hand absentmindedly touching the clasp of her bite guard for a dozenth time.

Inwardly, he preens. Smug he’s rattled her cage. 

She swallows hard. "Yes," she manages to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. "I never get steak." She tears into another piece, chewing slowly.

Of course not. Professional Omegas like her, practically show dogs, are fed top-shelf, high-end protein shakes. Nutritional smoothies. Leafy greens and lean meat. Vitamins. Supplements. Everything to keep them healthy and robust, hardy enough to take the ruts of alphas like him. Unmated, overly aggressive loners—canon fodder that survived too long, wised up too much, and made it everyone’s problem.

She’s terrible at hiding her irritation. Her attraction, too. Her scent’s all over the place. That’s the problem with being on scent blockers between jobs. Poor thing hasn’t a clue how to control it, let alone just how intoxicating she smells. It’s a miracle the little farmhouse they sent him to, where he found her, wasn’t blown down by the huffing and puffing of some other alpha.

(And even if it was? He’d drag them out and kill them with his bare hands.)

She’s not ready to admit what he already knows: this isn’t another contract rut. She isn’t going to limp home to her facility at the end of her week-long stint in no man’s land. He’ll carry her to his truck, buckle her in, and nurse the mark he’ll leave in her neck. All in good time.

He finishes his steak, pushing the empty plate aside. "I’m glad it’s to your liking."

The room crackles with tension, the silence only broken by the faint scrape of her cutlery. He allows it to stretch a minute longer before leaning forward and breaking it with a low drawl. 

"Once we're done here…I think it's time we use the bedroom. Take you properly this time." His eyes bore into hers. His bare chest and neck are splotchy with heat, his body hair damp with sweat. The scratch marks on his back sting when he reclines in his chair.

She stills, meal momentarily forgotten, then nods. She doesn’t lift her eyes from the gristle on the edge of her plate. 

Her denial reeks. The sweet tang of the warmth pooling between her eyes wafts. His foot slides forward under the table, catching her feet on either side as she tries to close her legs. Finally she looks up out of surprise, and he grins at the dilation of her pupils. It’s rare for a rut to trigger heats nowadays, what with all the suppressants on the market, what’s probably pumped into her—but not unheard of. Her body’s primed to respond to him. Wants to. Whether she wills it or not.

And it would be just like his superiors—handlers—to dangle an omega like her in front of him. He wonders how much of the budget went into strategizing his domestication. How much time. He’d be angry and drive back bloody and enraged, if it wasn’t working.

Not domestication, no. That’ll always be a front. A disguise to adopt and wear. But the singular, intensive want for the creature in front of him?

She was never going to leave here unmarked and unmated.

And he doesn’t believe she knew until he told her, growling into her ear as he pulled an orgasm from her wriggling body bent over the couch.

When she’s finished eating, he takes the dishes, and his eyes cut to where his shirt hits her bare thighs. Where the fabric catches and bunches on her wide hips. His nostrils flare at the single teardrop working its way down the inside of her leg.

“I’ll…prepare.”

Mouthwatering.

He takes his time, leaning against the sink, hand jammed down his shorts. He should shower. Should drink more water. Should, should, should. But the creak of the bed perks his ears and wipes another helping of enforced propriety from his brain.

She's ready. Satisfaction fills him at the thought. Aching for it.

The hall is an eternity and he makes no effort to dampen the sounds of his footsteps rattling the old bedroom door in its frame.

His shirt’s the first thing he sees, folded and set side on the decorative stool across from the door. The second is the arch of her back, arse in the air, covered in spots of a sheen she obviously tried to dab with a towel. A clear invitation, equal parts traditional and clinical. She’d like to pretend there’s nothing else in the room besides instinct and that she’s only there for an assignment.

Fingers threaded into the linens, toes curled tight. Statuesque. All part of her training, he bets.

Tomorrow, he decides, he’ll deliver his own. He’ll let her keep the comfort of routine for now.

Her skin is warm and soft under his touch, leagues smoother than his hands. Omegas like her are far from delicate things, shaped for their purpose like any other tool. Still, he marvels. Everything about her is welcoming. 

“Look at you.” he whispers, smug and satisfied. He squeezes her hip as he drops onto the bed behind her, wasting no time in wetting himself with her cunt. He glides through her folds, relishing the shudders it sends through the rest of her, and reaches for the back of her guard. He hooks a finger into the narrow gap between it and her neck and tugs, pulling her back to meet him in a searing kiss. Her mouth moves against his as if rehearsed until he releases her neck, and tells her to keep her cheek pressed to the mattress. Eyes open.

He watches a flurry of emotion parade across her face as he continues to grind. He soaks in the steady slick pouring from her hole, listening to her breathing ratchet up louder than the lewd, wet slide of his cock. He focuses on the pure heat emanating from her cunt and steadying his own breathing, until a word hatches weakly on her tongue.

“What was that?”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes. 

“Eyes open,” He swats a cheek. “Speak up.” Say it.

She stares sidelong, tongue darting out to wet her lips, a mix of apologetic and conflicted. “Please.”

“Please what?” Say it.

“Please—Please fuck me.”

“Why should I?”

It leaves her at a momentary loss for words. The question is and isn’t a trick. More a test, or an outstretched hand.

“Because…‘Cause of your rut?”

“No, no. Why’re you asking me to fuck you if it’s my rut? Everything should be on my schedule, yeah?”

“I didn’t—didn’t mean—”

“Why should I listen to your begging?”

Because you’re mine. Mine. Say it. Say you feel it.

But silence follows. Stubborn whelp. He lets her know the depth of his disappointment with a long huff, continuing to fuck along her folds, holding fast to his control. The noises he makes are intentional and not completely feigned. He reeks of displeasure and lets his gaze drift to the window, out to the dark of the night sky. Bored. Aggrieved. Let her mind wander where it will.

It takes minutes for her to break. She pleads with him quietly, daring to push back. “Please, I need it. Need you.”

Manipulative thing. It snaps the last thread, unmooring him from polite conversation and good manners. He grumbles, lines himself up, and slams forward without preamble. Buries himself in one go. He groans louder than the shocked gasp that erupts from her mouth, and grinds deeper into her warm clutch. He pulls back slowly to watch her cunt’s grip fight to keep him inside. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. ‘Least she knows what she wants” 

She whimpers in response, fingers clenching the sheets.

He wastes no more time, and lets his instincts take the reins. Maybe she’ll be more accommodating and honest around his knot. He lays into her with animalistic intensity, ignoring every cry and stutter beneath him as he takes and takes and takes.

He’ll give, the second she wises up.

John pistons into her mindlessly until moonlight touches the edge of the bed, and his body takes it like the chiming of a clock. Before he realizes it, he has her on her back, legs spread wide and hitched around his waist. Droplets of sweat drip from his temple onto her breasts where he leans over her, smearing when he crushes her, arms trapping her and giving her no quarter but his embrace. He doesn’t realize he’s fiddling with her bite guard until her voice turns shrill in his ear.

“Sir, you can’t!”

Sir. Placate and appease, textbook. 

“You cannot remove it, and, and, even if you could, you cannot bite me,” she continues, voice thin and desperate. “This is just a job, sir!”

He wonders if they use cattle prods. Clamps and car batteries. However they test their omegas to survive alphas like him, it cannot be too different from interrogation. But with how she fusses, he doubts she’s ever had to rely on her training in the real world. Unlike him. And he’s been on both sides.

John ignores her spiel.

“Oh, you’re just shy. You feel it, don’t you? Don’t fuckin’ deny it, I can tell you do, just need to hear you say it. Admit it. We’re a fucking pair. Mates. Meant to be.” 

A shocked noise cuts off the rest of her speech. Her lip’s gonna bleed if she keeps biting it like that.

“No? Still bent on denying it? Denying yourself? C’mon, darl.” His words are a growl, an animalistic sound vibrating through him. Reaching from the antediluvian into the present. His grip tightens on the collar, eyes drilling into the sliver of soft skin he sees beneath. The place for a mark. His mark.

She’s mine, the primal, angry part of him snarls. Snaps its teeth. Mine.

“‘M warnin’ you now. If I want to mark you, I will.” He punctuates with a hard thrust. “And if I want to mate you, I will. I’ll wait you out. I’ve crawled through shit and heat for things I don’t care about, imagine what I’ll endure for you.”

Without waiting for her response, his hand slips from her hip to between her legs. His pace drops to match the circles he rubs on her clit. A deep, controlled rhythm that has him bottoming out each thrust. His other hand grabs her jaw, tilting it to expose the clasp of the guard. Only she can undo it, but he wills it to break with just his stare.

“You’re going to be such a good mate to me. And I to you, sweetheart. I’ll protect you. Feed you. Keep you. Give you babies, little yous and mes…”

Her breath hitches at his words, he feels her shudder. It’s fear and curiosity and hunger. Mirrored. Twinned. 

Even as she protests, she arches into his touch, hips rising to meet him. The raw need in his voice, the harsh grip of his hand on her hip. He feels her resolve wavering, one foot off the edge over the steep drop off where he waits at the bottom to drag her under.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being taken care of, a big man at your beck and call…” John’s lips curl into a wicked grin. It’s adorable, really, all her writhing and squirming. "Shh, sweetheart," he coos, pressing himself to the root. "You're not foolin’ anyone. You want it just as much as I do." He licks her jaw, dips his tongue beneath the lined collar, and grazes the swell of her gland. "But if you're still not convinced," he murmurs against her skin, grinding his hips against hers to drive his point home, "I'll keep showing you how good it will be."

Without further warning, he renews his efforts. He thrusts in earnest and restarts the slow circles on her clit, determined to draw every last moan from her lips. At last, the tissue at the base of his cock stirs and begins to swell like it’s had enough of her dithering, too.

Another embarrassing sound tumbles from her lips—part gasp, part moan—as he finds and hits her sweet spot. Her eyes shut. The sheets beneath her twist as she claws at them. Intent on changing her mind and knocking some fucking sense into her, he hones in on it. By the time his knot bumps against her cunt, she’s babbling some nonsense. He catches words like ‘program’ and ‘rules’. It all disappears into vapor when her breath catches in fear despite the feverish squeeze of her cunt.

Understandable. She cried on it before. Biggest she’s taken, she said when she finally calmed down from her hysterics, facedown on the hardwood floor. Of course, that made pride billow from him like a dark, toxic cloud. Eclipsing the sunset through the lace curtains and choking out the afterglow.

He pauses, fingers tracing her clit, then the thickness of his knot pressed to her hole. She squirms.

“You want more, love?” John asks, sawing gently in and out. “Want to come on this fat knot?” He watches her wrestle with her emotions, the way her brow furrows and her lips press together in indecision. Searching him for the answer.

“If you want me to continue,” He lifts his hand to cradle her chin. “You’re gonna have to let me bite you. Admit you’re mine, made for me, and I’ll let you come.”

“But your knot—don’t you want to…?”

He swipes his thumb over her chin. “‘Course I do, but I want everything. The whole package. Why shove my knot and fill up an omega who’s only gonna waste what I give her? No, after this, after you refuse me, I’ll call whoever holds your leash and send for a replacement—”

“No.” 

Her face rapidly contorts from docility to something base. And familiar. In his peripheral vision, her hand twitches north, then back to her stomach, like it’s fighting back. The corner of her mouth lifts, lips flashing her dull canines.

“No replacement.”

He breathes in the stink of her requited greed. Finally.

“My rut’ll be long, won’t be satisfied until the deed’s done and takes. Not gonna let you come once unless my teeth find your neck first.”

Her look of fury breaks with a whimper, the sound filled with a heady mix of fear and desire. Conflict. After a moment, she tests him and tries to reach down to continue where he left off, but he snatches her wrist. He growls when that doesn’t discourage her, when she simply starts rocking her hips, trying to grind herself on the cock buried inside her. Her lips curve into a pout. It’s not enough. They both know it.

“Darl,” he warns, huffing. “You really are a needy thing, aren’t you?”

He indulges her with a few sluggish strokes in and out of her body, laughing softly. With a rough tug, he pulls her closer.

“I said if you want to come, you have to let me bite you.”

John doesn’t blame her for the war undoubtedly raging in her head. He licks the pads of his fingers, returns them to her bundle of nerves, and grinds his knot against her weeping hole to help things along.

She says something when her stomach contracts as her orgasm slowly returns within reach.

“What was that?”

“...Yes. Okay.”

He pinches her clit. Presses until his knot catches.

Instead of uttering a word, she fumbles with the clasp of her bite guard. It comes off in his hand, and he throws it like a discus into a wall, shattering it into pieces like her resolve. He relishes the full-body shudder that wracks her as he envelopes her again, bearing down on her with his maw stretched wide.

“Good fucking girl.”

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 3

Summary: Swear? On my life. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, squirting, deepthroating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, spanking, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), rough sex, creampie, mirror sex, shower sex, playful banter and teasing, so much fluff it'll make your teeth ache, porn WITH plot now A/N: I really just want to thank EVERYONE for all the love on this lil fic. It was really only meant to be a small one-shot for shits and giggles and you guys just made it mean so much more to me ;') I hope I did their love story justice <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“I think this is the last of it,” you huffed, handing Joel the final box off the moving truck.

It had been six months of long-distance before Joel finally put his foot down and demanded that you move in with him and his daughter Sarah. It didn’t take much coaxing since you were just as impatient as he was to live together. You had been practically glued to your cell phone over those six months, always staying up late talking to him. You learned all about him: his career, his life in Austin, his daughter, and his wife, who had left him after she was born. You came to find he was a fantastic listener, too. He’d sit there and listen to you babble on and on about your job at the marketing agency and how traffic in California always pissed you off. Once in a while, he’d hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet words…or dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you on…which happened all the time.

You followed him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, where he set the box on the ground. Exhausted, you flung yourself onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief to be done moving finally. Joel plopped down next to you, staring off into the ceiling fan with an even louder exhale.

“Not sure why you’re huffin’ and puffin’, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.

You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” you grumbled. “I’m not used to this damn humidity. It’s almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.” 

“Aw, s’my girl missing the coast?” he feigned a pouty face.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.

“I’m just kiddin’, darlin’. I’m happy you’re here.”

“I am, too,” you sighed. 

Joel moved with you, the steady warmth of his back pressing against your body. You nuzzled into him, breathing in synchronicity, a moment of stillness in the chaos. You were home.

“Joel,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, babydoll?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.

“I need you.”

Moving your bodies in unison, Joel rolled on top of you, holding your face in his hands. He was softer than before, his eyes washing over you with a happiness you could only have dreamed of. You arched into his touch, pressing your lips to his for a slow, hungry kiss. His mouth moved on yours with such ferocity you had no choice but to surrender completely.

“S’all you needed, babydoll?” Joel murmured against your open mouth. “Just some attention and lovin’?”

“Maybe just a lil’ bit,” you confessed.

“Sarah’s not gonna be home from school for ‘few hours,” he mused. “Reckon, I can give you all the attention you want.”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, giving him a playful grin. In a matter of seconds, you were both fully undressed. Joel leaned back on his heels, taking in your naked body spread across his linen bed sheets. His hand wrapped around one of your ankles, his fingers slowly sliding up your calf and thigh. He never took his eyes off of yours as his hands continued roaming over the curves and planes of your body; each brush of his finger a shockwave through your skin.

“If I ain’t the luckiest son ‘a bitch alive,” he shook his head, smiling down at you. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, cowboy,” you replied.

Joel was fucking gorgeous…everywhere. You knew all this time he was broad and muscular under that damn black shirt, but seeing his bare chest on display was something else. A spattering of hair covered his chest and down his stomach, a dark trail of it leading to his hardened cock. Every inch of him was defined, yet so soft, from how his biceps tensed and flexed to the curve of his stomach as his waist tapered down. You wanted to spend eternity exploring each freckle and mole, connecting the space between them on his tanned skin with an array of kisses. 

Cupping one of your breasts, Joel bent down to capture your lips again, his other hand falling between your inner thighs. Your arousal coated his fingers as he slid them between your legs, teasing you with the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Can’t believe this is s’all mine,” he whispered into your ear. “You hear me, darlin’? You’re all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed.

Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes drawn to where his fingers worked at your body. You whimpered and spread your legs wider, urging him to keep touching you. You never wanted him to stop, never wanted these moments to end. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. 

“What ya’ want, darlin’? Use those words.”

“You…I—I want you,” you panted. “I want your cock, please.”

“Want it or need it?” He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.

“Need it!” You cried.

Joel pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you out as he curled them deep inside you. He was teasing you slowly, pulling those embarrassing sounds from your mouth as you clenched around his fingers. Your body lit up as the pleasure built slowly, warmth spreading through your core. His fingers curled harder, hitting you at that blinding spot that made time suspend around you. All you could do was cry as the ecstasy swelled inside you, your hands clutching his neck to keep you grounded.

“Listen to those pretty lil’ sounds,” Joel hummed. “Fuckin’ love hearin’ ya cry out for me.”

“I—fuck! Fuck, Joel, please!” you begged. “God, please!” 

“Please, what, darlin’? Y’wanna cum? Is that what ya want?”

You twisted your face into the pillow, muffling a scream as your body tensed up one final time before you were drenching him with your release, the sheets under you becoming a complete mess. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing through each ripple of your orgasm. Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, your body sinking into the mattress as you removed your face from the pillows. Gazing up at him with heavy eyes, you watched as he brought his pointer finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit. Enamored, you stared in stunned silence as he licked away your arousal. Drawing it from his mouth, he pressed his middle finger against your parted lips, coaxing them open.

“Taste yourself, babydoll,” he ordered. 

Taking his finger in your mouth, you swirled your tongue, collecting the remnants of your cum. His pupils were blown wide as he watched you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an approving smile. He pressed his finger on your tongue, adding another as he pushed them further back.

“There ya’ go, darlin’,” he said, his voice rugged and dark.

You squirmed under him, needing more. A string of saliva dripped off your bottom lip as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down your chin and throat. His hands reached down to hold your hips, flipping you over to your stomach. Hauling you onto all fours, he pressed the tip of cock to your entrance, giving you no time to prepare as he drove into you. The air was knocked out of your lungs as he buried himself deep, holding you steady until he started moving. And when he began moving… he was relentless. Your hands tried to make purchase on the headboard as he railed into you, his hips snapping at a violent pace. 

Your orgasm was tearing through you in no time, your cunt squeezing his cock into a vice as warm liquid dripped down your thighs. Joel growled behind you, his fingers bruising your hip bones.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl. Fuckin’ drenching’ my cock.”

His hand came off your hips, delivering a round of slaps against your ass that had you wailing in pleasure. The sting of his hand on your skin was enough to send you over the edge again, that desperate need to cum stirring inside you. 

“Joel!” you shouted. “I—I’m gonna cum again, please!”

“I know, babydoll, I know,” he crooned. “I got you.”

You white-knuckled the headboard, another rush of liquid gushing out of you. You were overstimulated and crying as he kept a brutal pace. Another spank, another drive of his cock inside you… over and over in repetition. 

“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “Y’want my cum, babydoll?”

Words wouldn’t form on your lips; you could only wag your head in approval, needing him to fill you full. Joel wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your body against his, your back meeting his sweaty chest. He slowed his pace, fucking you deeper and more rhythmically until he was panting in your ear as he caved into his release. You moved in unison, bodies heaving for air as the world dissolved around you. He held you against him for a minute, his teeth grazing your shoulder.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me,” he whispered against your skin.

You whimpered at his praises, letting your body sag into his embrace. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you hummed in contentment, sinking into the press of his body against yours. Everything felt so right. Three little words were bubbling to the surface, but you swallowed them, too afraid to speak them aloud. You didn’t know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you weren’t thinking straight.

“I think I need a nap after that,” you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.

“Bed s’all yours, darlin’,” Joel said, unsticking his body from yours.

You curled under the covers, his scent enveloping you as you nestled into the bed. Joel leaned down to kiss your forehead, smoothing out your hair. Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him and smiled. 

“Get some sleep, babydoll. I’ll be ‘round the house unboxing stuff ‘til you’re up.”

“Thanks, cowboy.”

**

December passed by in a blissful blur, every day bringing something new. You had found a new job at a marketing agency in Austin, spending the usual 8-5 huddle in groups as you worked through different projects. Joel was always home before you, a plate of dinner waiting on the table for you and Sarah. You teased him constantly about the grease marks on his arms after his long days at work and made sure to tease you right back for the dress and heels you wore every day—which somehow always ended up with you naked on the bed, still wearing your stilettos as he fucked you into the mattress.

It was Christmas morning, and you were waiting downstairs by the tree with Sarah. You both had devised a plan to surprise him with a new watch; his old one had cracked at work while he was elbow-deep working on an old Mustang engine. He never mentioned needing a new one, but you noticed how he would absentmindedly look at his bare wrist at breakfast time each morning.

“You think he’ll like it?” Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.

“He’ll love it,” you assured her.

You were nestled into the couch in one of Joel’s shirts and sweats, waiting for the man himself to finish up in the kitchen. Walking into the living room, Joel had his hands full with two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice squeezed between the crook of his elbow. He grunted at Sarah to grab the glass of orange juice, extending the extra coffee mug to you as he dropped onto the couch cushions.

“Alright,” He yawned. “Let’s see what the fat man got y’all.”

Sarah tore into her presents, squealing at the heaps of new clothes and accessories she pulled from each box. You stole a glance at Joel, watching him look at his daughter with so much love and happiness. You had caught him giving you that same look from time to time, sometimes when you were walking out of the shower or when you were curled up on the couch together watching shitty action films. Maybe he did lov—.

“Open your present, Dad!” Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. “We got you something special!”

“Y’did, huh?” Joel looked at you with skepticism. 

You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.

“Surprise, cowboy,” you grinned.

He did a double take at the box in your hand, shock written all over his features. You looked over at Sarah, who was practically buzzing with anticipation as she waited for her dad to open his gift. Taking the box in his hands, Joel’s eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.

“Y’all really ain’t had to do anything,” he protested. “Got all I need right here.”

You reached over to squeeze his knee, urging him just to open the damned thing. He caved, flipping open the lid to reveal his new watch. The wraps on the watch were made from military green nylon, and the face of it was made from black mineral glass that would be durable and long-lasting. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew he’d hate that. 

Joel wrapped his hands around the nylon, holding it as he sat silently. You craned your neck to get a better look at his face; his brows furrowed, and his lips downturned.

“You hate it, huh?” Sarah asked quietly. 

“What?” Joel shook his head. “God no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.”

Sarah’s face perked up at his words, and she hauled herself up from the floor to give him a big embrace. You sat back and let them have their moment, enjoying the warmth floating around the room. Joel looked over Sarah’s shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you. 

Of course, you mouthed back.

He squeezed Sarah one last time before breaking the hug, ruffling her hair as she pulled away. He worked the watch around his wrist, clasping it on and admiring it against his tanned skin. 

“S’too much,” he mumbled. “Ain’t deserve these nice things.” 

“Yes, you do,” you responded.

Joel shook his head, for once at a loss for words. Sarah glanced between you both on the couch and gave you a small smile before grabbing her opened presents and disappearing to her room. You turned your attention back to Joel, already finding his eyes settled on you. 

“S’real nice of y’all to do this,” he sighed. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”

“She just wanted to do something special for you,” you said, scooting closer to him. “She loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

Joel hauled you into his lap, pulling your arms around his neck before his own settled around your waist. You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his before kissing his lips softly. Those words you had shoved down were coming back up again, crawling through your chest and banging to come out. You couldn’t wrangle them down this time.

“Joel, I—.”

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Your stomach dropped, the happiness you had felt crumbling away. Of course, it was too soon; you had been stupid to think he was ready to hear those words…or even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, trying—and failing—to hide your disappointment.

“Don’t say it,” he continued. “I wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. S’fucking much.”

His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.

“Swear?” You asked.

“On my life.”

Cupping your face in his large hands, Joel pulled you in for a deep kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip as you surrendered to his touch. Your mouths moved together, hands roaming skin, sounds escaping in breathy moans. You hadn’t expected to fall for him so fast—or fall for him at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it. 

“I love you, too, cowboy,” you whispered.

Later that night, Joel had you laid out on the bed upside down, your head dangling off the edge as you watched him above you through the mirror beside the bed. You could see his lips pressed against your stomach; you could feel the warmth of his mouth on your skin. 

“Watch me, babydoll,” he instructed. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off the mirror.”

You groaned as his tongue glided over your clit, each lick soft and slow. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whines, knowing Sarah was only a few feet down the hall. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, watching as Joel’s mouth worked at your wet cunt. His nose rubbed against your clit as he plunged his tongue inside you, a traitorous moan falling from your mouth. His eyes connected with yours through the mirror, the brown in his irises nearly black in the dim lights of the bedroom.

“Quiet, darlin’,” he warned. “Be good for me.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised. 

“That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldn’t hold on any longer, white-hot pleasure electrifying your nerves and spotting your vision. Joel kissed each of your thighs, raising his head to capture your gaze again, a lopsided grin plastered on his wet lips. You tilted your head up, the blood rushing back to the surface as you settled into the bed. Joel crawled up your body, caging you between his muscular arms. 

“So damn beautiful, babydoll,” he praised. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

He smiled wider, pushing your legs apart as he lined up with your entrance. Breaking you open slowly, Joel rocked into you, his pace slow and sensual. You melted against him, the press of his skin on yours enough to send another wave of pleasure through your core. Your fingers flexed against the solid muscles of his back, his shoulder blades moving with each roll of his hips. Joel’s hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered quietly. “Feel’s so fucking good.”

“I know, babydoll,” he whispered. “S’like you were made for me.”

You were mindless as another spasm tore through you, your legs shaking around his waist as your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Joel chased his release moments later, spilling into you with a quiet slew of curses and grunts. He peppered your neck and jaw in an array of kisses, nipping at your earlobe with a string of praises falling off his tongue. 

He hauled you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom, where you both stood under the spray of the hot water for nearly an hour. It wasn’t long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body. 

Into the late hours of the night, you found yourself wrapped around Joel, your limbs intertwined under the comforter's warmth. Your head rested against his shoulder, fingers dancing over the hair across his chest. Joel’s thumb rubbed circles around your shoulder blade as he pulled you tighter to his body. The smell of sex and cedarwood filled the air inside the bedroom, and your eyes drifted closed while you focused on the sound of his breathing beside you.

“I love you, Joel,” you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.

“I love you, darlin’. Always.”

**

The months faded away, the air turning warmer as summer crept in. Work had been picking up as the seasons changed, and your schedule was always packed from start to finish each day. On a particularly sunny day, you found yourself free for the afternoon after a long morning meeting. Driving through the town, you turned onto a street far too familiar to you now. Aside from Joel’s truck parked in the garage, the mechanic shop was empty. Smoothing down your pencil skirt, you exited your car with a devilish idea in mind. The bells above the door chimed as you waltzed into the waiting room with a devilish grin. Joel perked up from behind the counter, setting down the newspaper gripped between his hands. 

“What can I do for ya, miss?” Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.

“Got myself a flat,” you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. “Can you help me out?”

“S’gonna cost ya,” he shrugged. 

“I’m all outta cash,” you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. 

“Gotta credit card?” he questioned.

“It’ll get declined,” you pouted.

Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.

“Well, that’s got you in quite the predicament.”

“A pretty big one, huh?” You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.

“I reckon we can work somethin’ out,” he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door. 

You followed him out to the garage, excitement bubbling to the surface. Joel leaned against the hood of his truck, tugging at your skirt to draw you closer, forcing you to stumble a bit in your heels. Wrapping a big arm around your waist, he pinned you to his body, his hand coming up to cradle your face. 

“Y’sure are somethin’, babydoll,” he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss. 

“Whatever do you mean?” you said sarcastically. “I’m just an innocent woman lookin’ for help.”

“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, darlin'. It’ll only get you in trouble,” he warned.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt. 

Grabbing the base of your throat with a strong hand, Joel forced you down to your knees. You stared up at him obediently, an eager smile on your lips. With his hand still wrapped around your neck, he used the other to free his cock from his jeans, rubbing the tip of it over your parted lips.

“Better make use of that fuckin’ mouth,” he growled. “Since ‘ya need that tire fixed so bad.”

“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded.

You took him into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the head of his cock. The taste of salty precum swirled around your mouth as you took him deeper, eliciting a satisfied rumble from his chest. Joel jerked his hips forward, forcing you to sputter around his cock as he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him harder with each thrust of his hips. You reached up to cup his balls, running your fingers over the silken skin as he drove into your mouth over and over again.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, babydoll,” he instructed, his voice shaky.

You obliged, staring up at him with an open-mouthed grin. With a loud grunt and flex of his thighs, he coated your tongue in his release, some of it dripping off your lip. Your tongue darted out to catch it as Joel watched in a post-climax haze. His eyes were hooded and full of desire, and you could feel your cunt throbbing with need the longer he stared at you.

Standing on shaky legs, you reeled him in for a long kiss, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Joel deepened the kiss by twisting his tongue around yours, muffled sounds lost against your lips as he wrapped you into a tight embrace.

“So,” you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. “Think I can get that tire fixed?”

“I might be able to work somethin’ out,” he mused. “We can negotiate it over dinner.”

“Oh, you wanna wine and dine me now?”

“Damn right, I do,” he grinned. “Now, let’s go home so I can feast on you.”

“Take me home, cowboy.”

You both decided to leave your car parked at the shop and drive home together in his truck. With the console propped up, Joel had you pressed against his body, your eyes steadily watching him as he drove you home. Home. In the golden hour of sunset, you watched his eyes shimmer in flex of gold and auburn. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the silhouette of his face perfectly shadowed by the sun dipping below the horizon. He glanced down at you, a warm smile creasing the lines around his eyes. 

“What’s that look for, huh?” He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.

“I love you,” you sighed.

“I love you, too, babydoll. Always.”

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓇 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ a lil bit of flirty teasing ﾉ pet names ( darlin' ) ﾉ interactions with kids ﾉ reader is navigating Big and Confusing feelings :3

previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part

“one more stop and we should be good to go,” boothill informs you, closing the door behind him after joining you in the front of the truck. his presence makes the vehicle feel twice as hot and you find yourself scooting closer to the window to widen the gap between the two of you. the task proves to be a bit difficult in the two-seat cab.

maybe you can chalk it up to the fact that you’ve gotten used to the convenience of grocery delivery services, but you’re really starting to feel like boothill is going out of his way to make this the longest, most convoluted shopping trip simply because you’re here with him. if you knew you’d be spending such a large chunk of your day with the farmhand, you wouldn’t have so easily agreed to accompany him on the errands.

it was another request, or suggestion, rather, from your grandpa. you’ve been cooped up in the house since you arrived for your getaway and the man thought it might be a good idea for you to go into town, reacquaint yourself with the locals. you couldn’t argue—your trip is currently indefinite and you’re sure you’ll end up driving yourself crazy if you refuse to go out and are only left with the company of boothill.

he may still be in your presence now, but having others around to buffer your interactions has made all the difference. the farmhand is a lot more tolerable when it’s not just the two of you—less teasing, easier to talk to. you’d even go as far as calling him… charming. though, you’ll take that with you to the grave.

and, being trapped in a car with him is a different story. you silently hope that your next destination is in the same direction as home because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take being confined in such a cramped space with him. other than his unrelenting pestering, you’re angry at yourself for stealing glances at him—the way he steers with one hand and lets the other hang out the window and how the toothpick he’s chewing looks all too natural between his lips.

you focus your eyes ahead, scolding yourself for so shamelessly enjoying the sight of him. you should be glad he doesn’t catch you looking; you’d never hear the end of it. without turning to face him, you ask, “what’s the last stop?”

“produce stand,” he speaks around the wooden stick in his mouth, slowing to a stop at the red.

you frown, confused. “we were just at the market, why didn’t we just pick some up there?”

“and betray miss alma?” the name rings a bell, you recognize it from when you would spend summers with your grandpa. he must still do business with her if boothill is familiar, and loyal, at that. “absolutely not. better quality here, anyway.”

you don’t argue because you have a feeling that he’s right. and you wouldn’t mind catching up with alma. she was always so nice when you were a kid, excitedly asking you about your time here and offering you free carrots to feed the horses back home. you’re surprised to hear she’s still running the stall after all these years.

it only takes a few more minutes to make it to the roadside stand. there are a couple of cars already parked when boothill pulls off and you can see the owners of them picking out their desired fruits and vegetables. you don’t waste any time getting out of the truck when boothill turns it off, the gravel of the makeshift parking lot crunching beneath your boots as you make your way over to the little table that houses the register.

alma is seated behind it, head lifting up from the book in her hand at the sound of car doors closing. she readies to greet another customer but her eyes light up in pleasant delight when they land on you. “look who it is!”

her voice, though slightly changed by age, is familiar and brings an immediate smile to your face. you all but run to meet her at the table she comes to stand behind. the woman holds her arms out for a hug and you reach over the table to wrap your arms around her. it’s comforting in the same way hugging your grandpa is, like nothing can go wrong while you’re safe in their hold.

“your grandpa told me you were in town,” she tells you, pulling away and slowly taking a seat in her chair. “i was wondering if you’d stop by.”

you don’t want to tell her that you’re mostly here because of boothill. “how have you been, miss alma?”

“good, good.” she beams and gestures toward the multiple cartons and crates of colorful produce. “we’re still going strong.”

you smile at that. you don’t find many places like this in the city and the small businesses that you do come upon back home don’t foster this type of community. it’s nice to see that her livelihood is still thriving. alma gazes at her work proudly before her eyes zone in on something—or someone—else. “you here with boothill?”

“oh, yeah. he works at the farm,” you tell her, though, you’re sure she already knew as much. she’s seen much more of him in the past few years than she has of you. not that you didn’t believe him, but he really is a regular.

“nice young man, isn’t he?” alma asks, looking back at you. you’re not sure if you’d go that far but you nod in agreement regardless. he’s likely the perfect gentleman to the older ladies within town. she continues, “hardworking and handsome, too.”

“yeah,” you mindlessly admit. the hardworking part is undeniable, you’ve seen that much yourself. he’s always up on time and takes his responsibilities seriously, never half-asses his tasks and is consistently willing to take on more work if it’s necessary. you only concede on the handsome bit because boothill isn’t around to hear you say so. you hope alma isn’t a gossip.

“are you seeing him, dear?” she inquires.

“seeing him? like dating?” you ask for clarification. alma only raises her eyebrows. she does mean it like that. the question makes the tips of your ears grow hot, makes your heart feel like it’s beating against your ribcage infinitely faster. you quickly wave your hands in dismissal, smiling nervously at the woman’s assumption. “oh, no. no, no.”

alma laughs at your denial but something hidden in the sound makes it seem as though she can see right through you. she doesn’t push the matter and while you’re grateful to leave the discussion at that, you can’t help but wonder what gave her that impression, if it’s simply an old lady’s wishful thinking or if you aren’t as good at suppressing those confusing feelings as you thought you were.

“boothill!” the call of his name gives you a start. you almost think alma is calling him over but when you reassess the voice—how little and high-pitched it is—you calm down. your eyes search the small crowd for the man and you find him quickly, though he isn’t alone. there’s a little girl at his feet, one who’s hugging his legs tightly and looking up at him with stars in her eyes. 

you don’t have time to wonder about who she is before alma explains. “that’s my granddaughter. sweet little thing. you should go meet her, she’ll love you.”

“sure.” you offer the woman a short wave before making your way over to boothill and the girl. you can pick up on tidbits of their conversation as you approach—boothill asking how much she’s missed him and the girl telling him “this much!” while opening her arms as wide as she can. he laughs and takes the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, situating her on his hip. he even takes the hat off his head to place it on hers. it’s big on her, covers her eyes and requires her to push it back so she can see.

the whole exchange is cute, not something you’d expect from boothill. there’s a lot that you don’t know about him, you think as you watch.

the girl must feel you looking because her head turns in your direction which causes boothill’s to follow. you smile at her and wave and when you’re finally close enough, you greet her. “hi there.”

“hello.” she isn’t as excited as she was when she realized boothill was here but she’s still kind, returning your wave with one of her own. your conversation ends before it truly begins as she turns back to boothill. there’s curiosity swimming in her eyes and she doesn’t attempt to lower her voice when she asks him, “is she your girlfriend?”

your mouth falls open in surprise at the girl’s bold question. boothill laughs heartily, whether at your reaction or the question itself, you’re not sure. you don’t know if you trust him enough to answer honestly but before you can tell her no, the man is already speaking. “nah.”

relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. he meets your eye with his next words. “she’s real pretty though, ain’t she?”

he’s doing it again, putting you in a tough spot, one that urges you to run away rather than face the situation head-on. but this time, he knows that you know running away here would only cause a scene. you aren’t jumping at the chance to embarrass yourself in public so, even though you’re tempted to put as much space between you and boothill as possible, you plant your feet to the ground and stay put.

the girl in his arms looks at you again before eagerly nodding. “very pretty!”

“thank you, sweetheart,” you tell her with a soft smile. you try to keep it in place when you turn to address boothill. “are we ready to go?”

“almost,” he answers, crouching down to return the girl to the ground. the girl doesn’t look thrilled at their time being cut short but boothill, still at her level, playfully pinches her nose in hopes of cheering her up. “look, i gotta finish shopping but we can talk some more another day. maybe ask your mom if you can come ride the horses soon.”

“okay!” she places the hat back on his head, gives him a goodbye hug, and waves once more at you before skipping over to her grandma—presumably to share her enthusiasm at the prospect of visiting the farm.

she reminds you of yourself around that age.

“so,” boothill starts, rising to his full height with a half-full wicker basket in hand, “you only capable of accepting compliments when they’re not from me?”

there’s a grin stretched across his lips like he’s waiting for a thank you of his own. perhaps it’s a little rude, a bit pretentious even, but you can’t find it in you to utter the two simple words. maybe it’s strange and maybe it only makes sense to you, but not acknowledging the words is almost as if they never traveled through the air in the first place. pretending like the words don’t exist is easier on you—your turbulent mind and your unsteady heart.

you change the subject. “what else do we need?”

“you are ice cold, darlin’.” despite the statement, boothill doesn’t seem to be bothered by your indifference. he wouldn’t take it to heart if you were truly uninterested but the man is more perceptive than you give him credit for. he doesn’t miss how you can never seem to meet his eye following his heartfelt words, how you chew on your lip while you formulate an unrelated reply, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten about that stunt you pulled in the barn.

there’s something going on in that pretty head of yours and he’s determined to find out just what it is.

you pick out a few peaches and plums for yourself and a bunch of carrots for the horses while boothill grabs the rest of the household necessities. the basket is full by the time the two of you are finished. you plan on paying for your share but boothill insists that you wait in the truck, so, after bidding goodbye to alma and her granddaughter, you make the short walk back to the car. 

a couple of minutes pass before you hear the man putting the produce away with the rest of the items in the bed of the truck. a second later his door opens and he joins you, though, he isn’t empty-handed. there’s a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he holds out to you. “for you.”

you eye them cautiously, not daring to reach out and accept them.

“don’t worry, they’re from miss alma,” he tells you, lightly shaking the colored cosmos in front of you in a gesture for you to take them. “put ‘em in your room or something, they’ll look nice.”

with his urging, you take the bouquet. pinks and purples with pops of white make up the arrangement and, much to your chagrin, boothill is right—you can think of the perfect spot in your window for the blossoms.

as he starts the car and begins to back out into the road, boothill steals a quick look at you. there’s a smile pulling at your lips, soft and natural. it’s a rare sight, but one he could get used to.

he supposes that if he wants to see it for a while longer, he shouldn’t tell you that they aren’t actually from miss alma, rather, a mere suggestion from the nice lady to get him in your good graces.

thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[javiscigarette]

Peaches n' Cream

Joel Miller x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)

Summary: You like peaches and Joel like watching you eat them.

Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, established relationship, (semi) public / outdoor sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), ass play, spitting, choking sliiightt daddy kink, one mention of Joel being pick up reader (but tbh he's strong af he can pick anyone up), absolutely no plot here Joel is just depraved and in love <3

w/c: 6k of pwp : )

a/n: I'm back!! And LISTEN! I knowwww I said Javi was next but the grip this man has on me is unreal and the peaches at the farmers market got me thinking about things!! Pls let me know if you liked this and my asks are always open to chat!!

my masterlist

The little stand was set up on the side of the road, just one old farmer and his tall piles of crates filled to the brim with peaches.

Images of you in the grocery store a couple weeks ago flash in Joel’s head, standing in front of the display brimming with peaches with your arms crossed over your chest and your bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. 

“They’re not the good ones” 

“They look fresh” Joel states as he takes turns squeezing each peach to test the firmness. “What’s wrong with ‘em?”

“It’s still May” you replied

Joel just looked at you, eyebrows pinched together and completely lost on the point you were trying to make. 

“They won't be as sweet. They're the best at the end of June” you answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Sorry, not caught up on my peach facts I guess” 

You just roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Joel amused at how intensely you felt about the little fruits. 

But now it’s the last week of June. And as soon as he sees the stand there’s a rush of excitement thinking about the big smile you’d have for him when he walked through the door with a bag of fresh peaches. 

He pulls onto the shoulder of the road and parks his truck behind the line of the four other cars stopping for the same reason. The Texas sun is beating down on him, sweat prickling on the back of his neck in mere seconds as he waits patiently for the people in front of him to have their pick.

And when it’s his turn, he takes his time because of course it has to be perfect for you. He wasn’t looking for another peach lecture. 

“How d’ya pick out the ripest ones?” he asks the farmer. 

He listens carefully as the other man tells him how to spot the best ones, taking mental notes on everything from the ideal  firmness to the hue of the skin, even down to the smell. And he took the advice on getting a few that were ready to eat today and a few less ripe ones that you could eat a few days from now. After a few more minutes, he’s walking back to the truck carrying a paper bag filled to the top with peaches. 

When he gets home, he grabs a beer from the fridge then rinses the biggest peach from the bag under the kitchen tap. He has a direct line of sight through the window above the sink to where you’re laying out on the pool chair, the sight of you in your little skimpy bikini sent a little tingle down his spine. 

“Hey, baby” Joel calls out, shielding his eyes from the hot Texas sun. You turn and face him with a grin as he walks over to you. 

“Got something for you” Joel announces with a smile, holding out the peach to you. 

Your face lights up exactly how he imagined it would. But it’s a thousand times better in person. The way you smile so big that the corners of your eyes crinkle and the way your eyes  twinkle with amazement makes his heart swell in his chest. 

You scramble to sit up and take the fruit out of his hand. He strokes your hair then leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the lounge chair next to yours. 

“Where’d you get these?” you ask, lifting up your sunglasses to get a proper look. “They look perfect” 

Joel laughs, trying not to puff out his chest in confidence. 

“That peach stand up the road is finally open” he answers. “Got a whole bag for you inside” 

Joel chuckles again at your  small squeal of excitement as you  shoot up from your seat and bounce over towards him. You stand between his spread knees and lean down to kiss him. 

His heart feels warm and gooey in his chest as he kisses you, his hands immediately finding the back of your thighs, your skin so warm from sitting out in the sun all day. 

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, his head spinning a bit when he tastes your strawberry chapstick mixed with a hint of chlorine from the pool. His grip on your thighs tightens slightly and he sighs with delight when you part your lips and let him in, his heart melting when he feels you smile against his lips. 

He stays in the moment for a few more seconds before tapping your thigh and pulling back. 

“Try it. Wanna see if you like ‘em” he says before reaching for his beer sitting on the small side table. 

Joel’s heart skips a beat when you bite your lip and smile as you sit back down on your chair, facing him and crossing your legs underneath you. 

You sink your teeth into the reddish skin of the perfectly ripe peach. The sweet nectar immediately floods your mouth, so juicy that it quickly starts running past your lips to drip down your chin and over your fingers. You moan softly in delight, your eyelids fluttering shut at the taste. 

“It’s perfect” you say around a mouthful of peach. 

You take your time, savoring each bite. But to Joel it feels like you're on a mission to kill him on the spot. 

He has a death grip on his beer bottle as he watches you, groaning quietly when a few drops fall onto your bare legs. You, none the wiser, giggle innocently at the mess you’re making before taking another bite. More juice spills over your knuckles and trickles down your fingers to your wrist and forearm, the small rivulets twinkling on your skin in the sunlight. 

 Joel is about to pass out. 

He takes a few gulps of his beer, downing almost half the bottle in one go before setting it down on the small table between the two chairs. 

“C’mere, peaches” Joel says, patting his thigh. 

You happily oblige and get up to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

“You wanna bite?” you ask with a sweet smile. 

“Don’t need a bite, baby” Joel responds, reaching to grab your forearm. “Got my own right here.” 

He brings his lips to your wrist, pressing gentle kisses to your sticky skin and licking up the sweet juice. You giggle when the hairs of his mustache and scruffy beard tickle your skin, the sensation sending a a hot wave of arousal washing over you, head to toe. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as he kisses up your wrist to the back of your hand, placing a wet kiss to each of your knuckles before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at you again. 

A lopsided, dopey grin spreads across his face at the sight in front of him. You’re looking back at him through hooded eyes, the apples of your cheeks dusted pink as a dazed smile tugs at the corner of your red, wet lips. 

“Finish” Joel commands simply with a crooked smile. 

And you do. You go back to finishing the fruit while Joel’s gaze falls to your legs. He runs a thumb over the sticky drops of juice on your thigh, using his thumb to rub it into your warm skin with slow circles until the liquid dries up. He then switches to sliding his calloused palms up and down your thighs, his fingertips brushing the edges of your swim bottoms with every pass. 

Sitting in the sun all day already made your brain hazy and Joel’s dilated eyes boring into you aren’t exactly helping. Neither is his bulge twitching against your clothed core with every slurping and sucking sound you make as you let the juice run freely over your knuckles and down your chin, no longer caring about the mess. 

When you finish, Joel promptly plucks the pit out of your hand and sets it on the side table. He then turns back towards you and brings his thumb up to wipe up the drop of juice at the corner of your mouth. 

“Was it good, sweetheart?” he asks, sliding his thumb between your lips.

 Your eyelashes flutter as you immediately roll your tongue over his thumb, sucking the juice off before nodding slowly. You let him press down your tongue, his eyes wide and glued to your lips before you pull off his finger with a wet pop. 

“Delicious” you say with a sated smile. You lean forward, until your lips are inches away from his. “You wanna taste, daddy?” 

You giggle when he groans quietly underneath you.

“S’that even a question? ‘Course I do, peaches.” 

The next second, his hand is curling around the back of your neck as he pulls you down for a deep kiss. He doesn’t just get a taste. He devours you like a five-course meal, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth to chase the intoxicating taste of the fresh peach, chlorine, sun, sweat and you. This time, he bites at your lower lip and gently tugs, pulling a small whine from you. You tangle your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and he  groans softly when you move your hips against his, dragging your aching core over the bulge in his jeans. 

“Gotta have you, baby” Joel mumbles against your lips, too desperate to pull away for even one second. “Need you right fuckin’ now.” 

“Out here?” you ask breathlessly, not bothering to pull away either. 

Joel doesn’t say anything. Instead, with his lips still on yours, he reaches between your bodies and tugs down on a cup of your bikini top until your breast falls out, letting you know that yes, he needs you right now, out here. 

“Daddy…” you say tentatively, finally pulling away from the kiss. He doesn't even bother looking up, completely ignoring  you as he tugs down the other cup. 

“Joel!” you gasp, the sound quickly followed by a giggle as you try to squirm out of his grasp, but the strong he has wrapped around your waist keeps you firmly in place. 

He wasn’t exaggerating. Not in the slightest.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby” Joel mumbles, his lips vibrating lightly against your skin. You move in his lap again, but this time you’re not trying to get away. He’s rock hard now, and you grind down harshly, already growing desperate  from his primal need for you. 

He moves to swirl his tongue over your nipple then brings up his hand to pinch the other one, groaning softly as you grind down on him with your fingers tightening in your grasp in the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck and holding his head against you. 

“Joel” you start, your voice already trembling. You’re just putty in this man’s hands. “W-what about the neighbors?” 

Joel was not a stupid man. Sure, he doesn’t - used to not - know much about the damn peaches, but he had at least been blessed with enough forethought to build a fence tall enough to make sure that the nosy neighbors wouldn’t be able to see you out here. 

He doesn’t look up, just mumbles against your skin “no one can see in, angel. Promise.” 

“I know but what about the sound?” you ask, still grinding your hips softly against his. 

Joel chuckles, warm air fanning over your chest before looking up at you. His fingers leave your breast and trail down the side of your rib cage, his feather light touch making you shiver before he unceremoniously slips his hand beneath the elastic of your swimsuit, cupping your pussy in his hand. The heel of his palm presses against your clit as his fingers press against your already dripping seam. 

“Doesn’t seem to be botherin’ you too much” he says softly, his lips curving in a grin.

You whine and tug on his hair, almost forgetting why you even stopped him in the first place. His eyes fall back down to where he’s cupping you, mesmerized by the way your hips move as you grind against his hand, your juices already leaking onto his palm. 

“Needy little thing, aint ya” 

You stop moving and glare at him.

“Says the man that nearly creamed his pants watching me eat a piece of fruit”

Joel just shrugs shamelessly with a carefree smile. 

“Do you wanna stop?” Joel asks, circling your aching hole with the pads of his two fingers before sliding them in slowly. He’s quick enough to swallow his own pathetic whimper when he feels you clench wildly around his fingers. “‘Cause I’ll stop right now and we ca-” 

“No.” you reply firmly, reflexively tugging on his hair. 

“That’s my girl” Joel smirks and curls his fingers to press right up against the spot that has you instantly moaning, the one that he never struggles to find.  “So good for me, huh?” 

You nod weakly, biting your lip to try and  stop some of the noise you’re making. 

He pumps his fingers in and out of you the best he can with the limited range of motion, obsessed with the soft sound tumbling past your lips. He dives back down to latch onto your nipple again, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardened peak.

You grind down hard against his hand and your skin grows hotter under the summer sun, every inch of hot and buzzing. You move your hands from his hair, one curling around the back of his neck, the other grabbing onto his shoulder. His neck is damp with sweat under your palm and his black t-shirt feels like it’s about to catch on fire. 

“Off” you whine pathetically and pull at his shirt, now desperate to feel every inch of his skin. 

He ignores you at first, too busy switching to your other nipple and teasing it between his teeth, too absorbed in the feeling of your slick running down his fingers and into his palm like warm honey. But yanking on his hair brings his attention back to you. 

“So impatient” Joel mumbles, sliding his fingers out of you and his hand out of your swimsuit before snapping the elastic against your hip. You watch with wide eyes as he sticks two wet fingers in his mouth letting out a soft groan while his eyelids futter slightly at the taste. 

He then pulls the fingers out of his and looks up at you. But you're looking somewhere else. You’re eyes are still glued to his fingers, now shiny with a mixture of your slick and his saliva. He follows your gaze and wiggles his fingers slightly. 

“Does my baby want a taste?” Joel asks with a smirk. 

You nod your fervently nod your head and whine a pathetic “please” 

“Can’t so no when you ask so nicely, sweetheart” 

He brings his wet fingers up your lips and you don’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping your lips around his two digits and sucking hard. The two of you sigh in unison, Joel pushing down on your tongue as you roll your tongue around, cleaning up the mess as best you can. 

His jaw is slack and  hanging open as he watches you in amazement. He slides his fingers back a little further, grunting when you start gagging slightly. 

“Such a pretty sound” Joel whispers. He shoves his fingers further back, eyebrows pinched together in concentration. You gag again, harder this time, drool now leaking past your lips and his fingers. His cock pulses in his jeans so hard that it nearly hurts. 

“Baby” he starts, pressing down particularly hard on your tongue, moaning quietly as your mouth floods with more saliva. He then hooks his fingers over your bottom teeth and tugs down, forcing your mouth open. He stares at your wet lips with eyes hooded before talking again. “Daddy needs you, sweetheart”

You moan softly and slide off his fingers. 

“How d’ya want me?” you ask innocently

“Take these off,” Joel says, thumbing at the waistband of your swimsuit. “Then lie down for me babydoll” 

You whimper softly, and move off his lap to stand up, fully untying your bikini top and shimmying out of your bottoms. Your eyes are glued to Joel the whole time though, watching hungirly as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the vast expanse of his back. He unbuckles his belts and unzips his jeans, pulling them down his thighs just enough to get his cock out. 

You do as you’re told, propping yourself up against the back of the chair with your legs stretched out in front of you. Joel wastes no time getting settled on his stomach between your legs, spreading your thighs apart to reveal your glistening cunt to the summer sun.

“God, baby” Joel sighs at the sight, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He brings a hand up and uses two fingers to spread your lips to see your hole clenching around thin air.  “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

You whimper softly and gently roll your hips up, chasing after his touch. Joel looks up at you and smirks as he prods at your entrance with his finger tips. JJoel shushes you and presses a kiss to the space just below your navel, then kisses a trail over to your hip and down the top of your thigh. He kisses the tacky  spot on your thigh, kitten-licking at the sugary spot of dried juice. Then he slides a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and over your shoulder before wrapping his arm over the top, effectively locking your thigh in place. 

Your hands find their natural resting spot in his hair, fingers tangling in the brown curls that are burning hot from the sun. He’s making progress towards where you need him most, placing hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh, pausing frequently to nibble and suck at the delicate skin. You can already see the smug look on his face he’ll have when he finds the little marks and bruises in the morning. 

With no warning, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your slick folds, hungrily lapping at your aching cunt.  Joel absolutely devours you, his face buried between your legs, so eager to taste you, to drink you down and make you scream. 

You reflexively try to buck your hips, but the arm he has wrapped around your thigh keeps you down, his fingertips digging into your skin as he holds you right where he wants you. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against the chair when he feels your thighs tremble against his face and then again when you pull on his hair, sending tingles from his scalp down to his toes. 

His tongue teases your leaking hole, your walls clenching desperately as he dips his tongue in and out before moving to your clit. He sucks the swollen nub between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, waiting until you let out a whine or moan before moving back to your hole to repeat the process. It’s like he’s starving and you’re the first thing he’s tasted in days. 

Lewd, wet noises of Joel slurping you down like you’re his last drink ever create a mirror image of the sounds you made while eating the peach only five minutes ago. The sounds mix with your moans and high-pitched whines,  Any and all reservations you had about the neighbors hearing you completely gone.  

 Just from the way he’s eating you out, greedily taking everything you give him, tells you how much he needed you. It’s so passionate and raw that it makes your head spin. You can hear your blood roaring in your ears as your skin feels raw and electrified like an exposed wire as a heat start pool in your lower abdomen. And you’re guessing by how your slick is dripping down your thighs already that he can tell how much you need him. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re teetering on the edge of release, your chest heaving with every gulp of air. Joel notices how your moans are getting louder and more frequent, so he slides the hand that’s not wrapped around your thigh down to your entrance and slowly pushes two fingers inside of you. 

He smiles against you when you reward him with a long loud moan with your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. He keeps a steady rhythm, slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you, a direct contrast to the ravenous pace of his tongue. The sounds he’s pulling out of you go straight to his cock, but he barely registers the building pressure, too focused on taking care of you to think about himself for even one second. 

You cry out when he hooks his fingers inside of you, curling them so they perfectly nudge against your g-spot every single time he pushes in. Your back arches away from the chair and you start rolling your hips against his face, holding his head in place as you do so. 

“Give it to me, angel” Joel murmurs into you, the vibrations and his warm breath adding to the pleasure that’s quickly building up. “Wanna feel you cum ‘round my fingers. Wanna taste it, baby” 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re so hot, almost every square inch of your skin damp with sweat and you can’t tell if it’s more from the heat or what this man is doing to you, probably just an intoxicating mixture of both. You look down at him to find that he’s already staring up at you, watching you intently with hooded eyes as you start to fall apart. 

Your gaze drifts to his back, and you can’t help but gawk at the muscles flexing smoothly under his tan skin that’s gleaming with sweat. The sight alone causes the pressure to build even more and Joel groans when your legs start trembling on either side of his head. He doubles down on his effort, his tongue flicking wildly at your clit as he presses his fingertips harshly against your spot that has you seeing stars. He lays the palm of his free hand on the space just below your navel and presses down, adding sudden, intense external pressure that makes you cry out loud. 

“Oh fuck daddy I - shit  I’m gon-”

You can’t even finish the sentence before you’re flying off the edge, hips lifting off the chair as you shove his face even further against your core. Sounds of pleasure flow freely from your lips as you grind against his face, the stubble of his beard rubbing your sweaty inner thighs raw. Joel watches you the whole time as your slick gushes out of your hole and onto his chin and around his fingers. 

He works you through it, grunting and moaning while keeping his mouth glued to you, following you as you writhe underneath him. He doesn’t let up until you’re whimpering and squirming away from the overstimulation. 

“Goddam, baby” Joel rasps, his voice thick with his smooth southern drawl. He presses a gentle kiss to your hypersensitive clit and whispers “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Could give that farmer and his peaches a run for their money” 

You giggle breathlessly. Your limbs are relaxed and heavy as you melt against the chair while Joel moves so that he’s kneeling between your legs. He  takes advantage of how soft and pliant you are, easily manhandling you to flip over and put your ass up in the air with the side of your  face pressed against the chair cushion. 

He palms at your ass and grips handfuls of both cheeks before spreading you open so you’re on full display for him. He groans quietly seeing your hole clench around thin air, a thin string of your slick dripping from your lips. 

“So beautiful, baby” Joel mumbles, dragging a single finger through the mess between your legs. You whine at the praise and wiggle your hips, your way of asking him to get on with it already. 

“S’okay, baby” Joel soothes, rubbing a palm over the curve of your ass. “Gonna give you what you want” 

Joel gathers the spit in his mouth before leaning over a bit and letting it drip down to where he has you spread open. He groans softly, watching the warm liquid land on your asshole and slide down to pool at your leaking entrance. You obviously don’t need any extra lubrication but Joel’s obsession with claiming you as his and getting you all messy like this is no secret. 

You both moan when he nestles his cock between your cheeks, sighing heavily as he rocks his hips and gently glides his cock through the wetness. 

“This what you want, sweetheart?” Joel teases, notching his tip at your entrance. “Or should I fuck this tight little hole? Haven’t played back here in awhile”

Your high-pitched whines turn  into desperate moans when he spits again and spreads it over the tight ring of muscle with the pad of his thumb. You make another pathetic noise and push your hips back again. 

“You’d take anything I gave you wouldn’t you, angel?” Joel coos, pressing his thumb past the tight ring of muscle. “Could take your sweet pussy or tight little ass whenever I want and you’d just be so grateful, huh baby?” 

“Yes daddy just– please I just need you inside me” 

Joel hums approvingly. 

“Yeah I know you would, baby” Joel sighs, watching your tight hole swallow the tip of his thumb with stars in his eyes. “Always so desperate for me to fill you up and stuff you full of my cock, isn’t that right?” 

You whine in frustration as Joel slides his cock through your folds again, rubbing the warm, swollen head of his cock against your clit. 

“Please, daddy. Please please I want it so bad fuck me pl-” 

You cut yourself off with a wanton moan when Joel fully sheathes himself inside your aching cunt in one swift, sudden movement. 

“Sound so pretty when you beg like that” Joel chokes out, his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as he wills himself to stay still while you adjust to his size. 

It’s hard though, especially with your dripping walls spasming around his cock and your asshole squeezing his thumb. 

“Jesus honey” Joel groans as he pulls your hips back onto him just to get a little bit deeper. His cock pulses inside of you when you whine his name and clench wildly around him. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezin’ me like that” 

“Move” you groan. “God daddy please move” 

You don’t have to tell him twice. 

Immediately he pulls out just until his tip catches on your entrance before slamming back inside. You cry out at the sudden, intense force, your hands scrambling and searching for purchase on the fabric of the chair. You try to crawl up on your forearms, but his strong hand between your shoulder blades forces you back down, your cheek smushed against the chair. 

Joel growls from behind you as he quickly works up to a devastating pace. His eyes flit back and forth from your face, screwed up in pleasure, to where he’s pounding into you, both of your holes raw and stretched out around his cock and his thumb. 

“Fuck you take it so well, baby” Joel grunts, his hand landing harshly on your ass. “Such a good girl, takin’ everything I give you” 

He leans over, his palm sliding from between your shoulders to the back of your neck. The position pushes him even further inside of you, his tip pressing against your cervix with every stroke. 

“Nghh fuck daddy, you’re so deep!” you cry, gasping wetly while his fingers splay over the front of your throat. 

“Fuck yeah I am” Joel growls, his thumb now pressing firmly against the side of your neck, his fingertips squeezing the other side. “This cock was made to fuck you, sweet girl” 

He gradually increases the pressure on your throat, his cock pulsating when you clench down on him as he slowly constricts the blood flow to your brain. There’s not a single worry in your head. The hand around your throat is a reminder of his dominance over you but also serves as a symbol of the trust between the two of you. It’s almost a silent way of saying “let go, I’ve got you” 

And you do let go.

You moan uncontrollably as he continues to pound into you, your head quickly growing light and fuzzy.  His fucking you with no reservations, making every inch of you skin tingle with pleasure. But you can’t resist the temptation to push your hips back, meeting his thrusts halfway. And judging from the sound of Joel’s moan, you know that was the right choice. 

“Oh god, that’s it, sweetheart. Lemme see you fuck yourself on my cock” 

You follow his orders, the muscles in your thighs and hips already burning from the sheer amount of effort you're exerting. Your mouth hangs open, drool leaking out onto the white fabric of the cushion as you whimper and whine while for him. He watches, completely focused on the way your body moves for him, panting heavily with his thumb still stuck in your ass. 

“Better be quiet, angel,” Joel warns through clenched teeth. “Unless you want them to hear.” 

He hisses when you clamp down around him and thrust your hips back, forcing his length deep inside of you. Joel chuckles breathlessly and leans down until his face is inches away from yours, his grip lightening up on your throat. “Oh you like that idea, don’t you?” 

You try to open your mouth and say something, but he starts squeezing your throat again, laughing darkly when your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Dirty fucking girl” Joel whispers roughly, snapping his hips harder against yours if even possible at this point. He wiggles his thumb in your ass for good measure. “Wants the whole neighborhood to hear how well her daddy fucks her, huh baby?” 

The sound of it all is obscene, your moans,  the rhythmic slap of his pelvis against your ass, and the squelching of your dripping cunt as he fucks you senseless. For a brief second, your mind wanders to all the women in the neighborhood, so indiscreet with the way that they ogle at Joel at all the neighborhood cook-outs and bonfires and you think to yourself: yeah, they can fucking listen. 

Joel places a wet kiss to the nape of your neck before straightening up again. His hand abruptly leaves your throat, leaving you gasping and whining at the loss. 

“God you’re such a fuckin’ slut for it” Joel rasps, his hand gripping your hip again. 

Your head feels thick and stuffy, thoughts floating around like syrup in your brain. The only thing you can think about is Joel’s cock driving in and out of you, dragging so deliciously against your g-spot while he keeps his thumb firmly in your tight asshole.

He uses two fingers from his free hand to prod at where he’s splitting you open, gathering some of your slick and dragging it up to your clit. He groans at the heavenly sounds that start falling from your lips as he rubs quick circles over the sensitive nub. 

You’re an absolute mess at this point, completely at his mercy as he pounds into you. Your hips jerk involuntarily against him as he continues to rub your clit ferociously, making you writhe underneath him. His touch only adds to your pleasure, pure bliss engulfing all of your senses. 

“Please daddy” you whine, your words slurring together. “Please I wanna cum” 

“I know, baby. Can feel you clenchin’ around me'' Joel coos. “S’okay sweetheart, I want it. Soak my fuckin’ cock with it” 

Your whole body tenses as you reach your release, your walls grip him so impossibly tight as he fucks you through it, his fingers on your clit not slowing for even a second

“That’s it, baby.” Joel praises as you shake underneath him, the sounds you're making, has his cock throbbing inside of you, his eyes rolling back at how tightly you squeeze his cock and his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ tight when you cum on me. So fuckin’ tight” 

He’s not far behind you, the way your body reacts to him driving him absolutely wild. His fingers move from your clit to grip your hip and he slams into you with a newfound strength, chasing after his own release. 

“Fuck, honey you’re gonna make me cum” he grunts, his eyes glued to your holes fluttering around him. 

“Yes, daddy please cum” you manage to whine desperately, eager to have him fuck you full of his cum until it’s dripping out of you. 

Your begging sends him over the edge and his pace falters then stops completely. The sounds of his loud moans as he spills inside of you sends a pleasant wave of warmth down your spine. It feels so divine, the way he throbs inside of you as he shoots rope after rope cum deep inside of you. 

He stays there for a few moments, buried deep inside you while he catches his breath. Once his breathing evens out, he gingerly removes his thumb from your ass, his cock twitching pathetically at the way your tight hole grips onto him as he pulls it out. He then slides his cock out and collapses on top of you, careful not to completely crush you. 

He’s burning hot, his sweaty skin sticking to your eyes as the sunshine beats down relentlessly on the two of you. But you don’t give single fuck. He rests his cheek between your shoulder blades, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart.” Joel whispers, his breath fanning over the back of shoulder. 

You hum happily in response, too blissed out to say much else. You lay there for a few more minutes until the sun makes things unbearably hot. Joel then moves to stand up and shimmies out of the jeans that he never fully took off. 

You turn your head to look at him, using your hand to shield your eye from the sun. 

“You’re puttin’ a lot of faith in that fence” you chuckle, eyes shamelessly raking up and down his naked body. 

Joel laughs out loud and tosses his jeans on the chair. 

“Baby” he starts, reaching down to roll you over onto your back. “You know the only reason I agreed to building that fence and this goddamn pool in the first place is because I want to see you naked inside of it” 

You have no time to react before he’s scooping you up in his arms. 

“Joel Miller! Put me down!” you shout between giggles as he carries you over to the edge of the pool. 

“It’d be my honor” he says before dropping you into the water. 

The cool water is a shock to your fucked out system, but it’s such a relief from the heat. And if anyone else did that, you’d be fucking livid. Anyone else. But it’s Joel. And the way that he jumps in after you and then wraps his arms around you as he giggles in your ear makes you absolutely melt, just like it always does. 

Thank god for peach season. 

Thank you for reading I love you guys sm :')))

[kimuzostar]

YOU CAN'T HIDE ii

⊱ bountyhunter!terry x black fem reader ⊰ ⊱ warnings: 18+, smut, degradation kink, pregnancy scare, mention of clinic visit, slight choking, stalking aspects, slight dom!terry and more i forgot ⊰ ⊱ probably the last part for this, i don't know... writing smut scares me because i'm bad at it ⊰ enjoy

A few weeks have passed of you being on the run. The media coverage of the robbery had died down; yet you were still on edge. 

Not about the robbery but about him.

“When I catch you again, I won’t be as nice.”

 His words replayed over and over in your head. You felt them deep in your stomach, just like his di-

No, no, no. You will not allow a man to be the proprietor of your downfall. 

After he left, you gathered your things and immediately headed for the nearest bus station. You brought a ticket to Arondale, another small town about four hours away. You needed to put distance between the two of you. 

As you boarded the bus, you had an eerie feeling of being watched. You turn and see a truck. His truck. 

Its lights cut on and it rapidly sped off in the opposite direction. 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

Now you could live in peace….. or so you thought. 

You were currently bent over the toilet of your dingy motel room. The entire contents of your stomach emptied out before you. 

For the last 5 or so days, you’ve been unable to hold down any food, certain smells cause you to gag, and you’ve been over emotional about every little thing. 

The tenant next door was not being of any help as he didn’t seem to know how to lower his volume. Constantly playing loud music and talking loudly. Every time you went to complain, he would get quiet and not answer his door. 

The one time you did see him, his back was turned to you as he got in his car. You wish you would’ve saw his face so you could flip it off. 

You were trying not to think the worst, brushing it off to a persistent stomach bug. But your period was late and that wasn’t making anything more comforting. 

“There’s no fucking way!”, you whisper to yourself. 

There’s no way you could possibly be pregnant by a man you don’t even know. A man whose face you’ve never even seen. You didn’t need any of this right now. 

Gathering yourself, you pull up to look in the mirror. Your curly hair wild, eyes shadowed with bags and your plump lips were chapped. You were a mess. 

You needed a pregnancy test. There was a small market across the street. You gathered your jacket and headed out. 

-

The market was stocked; having every essential one might need. 

You grabbed a buggy. You were going to get everything you needed so if you get the worst, you wouldn’t have to come out for a while. 

As you turn down one of the aisles, you bump into someone. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” you say. 

Looking up, you see it’s your loud next door tenant. He’s wearing shades with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A perfect set of 32s. 

“That’s no bother, just don’t do it again,” he replies. 

Already aggravated, you didn’t have the energy to play into his games. You continue along the aisle, paying him no more attention. 

Scanning the items, you finally find what you’re looking for; a clear blue pregnancy test. You grab it, biting your lower lip out of nervousness. 

Taking a step backwards, you run into what feels like a brick wall. A pair of arms surround you, the hands covering yours over the test. They lift them so the owner can take a closer look. 

“A pregnancy test. Who dis fa?”, the person says. 

You push back, turning to see who it is. 

It’s the tenant again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me and it’s none of your fucking business.”

He laughs, taking off his shades to get a better look at you. 

“I think it’s a lot of my business considering I could be a daddy.”  

Fuck, those eyes. 

It was him. The bounty hunter. 

Terry stood before you, smiling so big that his eyes disappeared. His hair was cut low, his skin bronzed by the sun. 

He was beautiful. 

You were frozen, unable to properly process what was going on. You wanted to run but your body wouldn’t move. You have many questions but your mouth wouldn’t move. 

“You look surprised. What’s wrong?”, he says jokingly. 

You finally get the push to speak. 

“You’re not the only person I’ve been with so you’re probably not the father”, you lie. 

Terry raises one of his eyebrows. “Is that so?”, he says. 

“Yes, so you can go away now”, you reply. 

“Nah, I’m curious about the results. Let's get back to your room”, he says walking towards the registers.

Your shoulders sunk. There was no way of this. 

-

Terry watched every step of you take your test; standing in the bathroom doorway like a bouncer. 

You avoided eye contact, feeling vulnerable about the current situation. 

“What does it say?”, he asks. 

“I don’t know, the instructions say there’s a 20 minute wait,” you reply. 

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling in thought. 

“What should we name it? I’m thinking Junior for a boy and Jasmi for a girl”, he says, smiling. 

You scoff. 

“You have lost your black ass mind if you think I’m having a baby with you. Plus, you don’t even know if this is your baby. The only thing I’m worried about is what clinic I need to go to”, you say. 

You peek at him through your lashes. He stood arms crossed, no longer smiling. You could cut the tension with a knife. 

“I’ve been watching you for weeks. There is no other man”, he says. 

“How did you find me? I left Springville weeks ago, it should’ve been impossible for you to find me here.”

Terry smiles, a laugh erupting deep from within his chest. 

“I never stopped following you, you’re just too fucking stupid to realize it. I followed your bus all the way here. I’ve been staying next door the whole time.”, he chuckles. 

You stood there dumbfounded. The clogs in your brain jammed and you were unable to produce a coherent thought. 

The loud music, the loud talking, the man entering the car. All him. 

“Are you actually insane? Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound? What’s not clicking?”, you say. 

Terry’s brows furrowed in genuine confusion. 

“Why are you so mad? I never told you I was going to leave you alone. I said when I catch you, not if I catch. You’re my problem until I feel you’re sorted out,” he says. “You were warned yet you still can’t hide.”

He stepped towards you. You step back and he follows you until you hit the wall. He leans down, his lips brushing your ear. You shiver at the contact. 

“Do I scare you?”, he asks, tracing a circle on your hip. 

Feigning dominance, you respond, “No, I’m not scared of you.”

You were definitely afraid of him. 

“I’m not afraid of a bubbling moron that goes around stalking people, unable to act like an adult,” you continue. 

You see Terry’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh. He pulls back, trailing the hand on your hip up to your neck. He wraps it around, squeezing slightly. You can feel your nipples harden through your shirt. 

”As long as you’re here, I won’t ever leave you alone. Deal with it”, he says. 

The statement causes you to look down at the floor. The thought of him bothering you forever was too much to bear. 

Terry lifts your chin so you can meet his eyes. You’re stuck, unable to look away; almost like you were being hypnotized. 

He kisses you, his mouth engulfing yours. His lips were so soft, citing a moan from you. His hands slide their way to your butt. He squeezes, pulling you flesh against his body. 

He picks you up, walking you over to the bed. He places you down, still not breaking the kiss. 

Your tongues fight for power, neither of you wanting to fall to the other. 

“Take these off”, he says tugging at your pants. 

You oblige, removing your shirt, pants and underwear. He does the same, allowing you to finally get a good look at his body. 

He was chiseled by the gods. His shoulders were large, coupled with a six pack and a deep v-line leading down to a hung dick. 

Terry hovers over you, settling his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. His fingers begin to rub up and down your pussy, softly grazing over your clit. 

He plunges two fingers in you. He licks from your collarbone to the shell of your ear. He gives it a kiss. 

“Still as tight as last time. There’s no way somebody else been in here,” he teases in your ear. 

“Would’ve been better than you anyways,” you reply. 

Terry freezes. He pulls his fingers out of you, lifting his head up to stare in your eyes. The stoic expression is back. 

Uh oh. 

He sits back, using your hips to flip you on your stomach. His hands find your hair and he pushes your face into the mattress. He straddles you, his other hand on your back.  You can feel his dick resting on your ass. 

“I’ve been being really nice. I don’t appreciate all this back talk,” he says. 

“If you stop talking so much shit then maybe we wouldn’t have that problem,” you reply. 

Terry pushes you further into the mattress, leaning in closer to your face. 

“Apologize and mayb-“, he starts. 

“Fuck you”, you spit, cutting him off. 

With no warning, he slams into you, taking a pause so you can adjust around him. 

His grip loosens from your hair, wrapping it around to cover your mouth. He lowers the rest of his body on you, trapping you between him and the mattress. 

“You don’t know how to shut up and be a good girl. Always got that bitchy attitude. That’s ok, I can fix that”, he says with a smile. 

He begins to thrust into you, hard. The position made it feel like he was poking your lungs. 

“Can’t nobody fuck this pussy like I can.”

He would pull up, only leaving the tip; rolling his hips, before thrusting back in. He kept moving over your spot; it felt like scratching an itch slowly.

“Talking all that big shit, say something now,” he urges, removing his hand. 

All you could respond with was a moan. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t form any words. He was fucking you dumb. 

You began to pant, feeling out of breath; that familiar knot growing in your stomach. 

Terry shifts, the change of angle reaching a new dept within you. 

“Cumming,” you say with an exasperated sigh. He continued to fuck you through it, making it feel like it was going on forever. 

“That’s what I thought”, he says. 

Terry flips over to his side, taking you with him. He grabs the back of your knee, pulling it up to your ear. He slides back into you, feeling even deeper than before. 

“Ah, fuck, that feels so fucking good”, you say. 

“You are mine, this pussy is mine, all MINE. You belong to me,” he growls, planting a kiss on your knee.  

You nodded. The words sounding like music to your ears. If this was the kind of dick you’d get everyday, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, you know he wasn’t going to leave you alone anytime soon. Especially if you had a baby on the way. 

“You will be a slut for me, whether you like it or not  

He kept slamming into, never letting up. His free hand grabs your neck, pulling you closer to his face. You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

“I’m gonna cum again”, you say. 

“Let it go, wet that dick up”, he replies. 

With that, you let go, screaming to the heavens. Terry follows closely behind. You feel him tense up as he paints your walls white. 

The two of you are a mess of sweat and deep breaths. Terry pulls out of you, looking down at the art he created. He gives a playful slap to your ass cheek.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”, he says.

You roll your eyes, getting a chuckle out of him. 

He gets up, heading to the bathroom to check on the test. 

“Oh look”, he says flashing it to you, “it’s negative”.

-

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @avoidthings @jimmybutlrr @persethegawd @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @theereina @thabiddie23 @planetblaque @megamindsecretlair @melaninpov @madamzola @literallegendicon @blyffe

[notpixl]

Checking my upload schedule and seeing that it revolves around a 3-4 ish weeks.

Nothing else to note, enjoy the drabble.

Living with Feixiao HCs

(Thought this would fit with the theme of these headcanons)

GN!Reader as always. And that I haven't touched 2.3 yet so there's probably some ooc. But we love gap moe.

...

....

...

You'll definitely be met with hickey or bite mark when you wake up! Or if Feixiao's feeling it... more than that...

Getting out of her grasp was always a chore when you two started sleeping together but all it takes is a simple kiss on her forehead... to hold you much stronger than before while she keeps sleeping with a dumb smile on her face.

A kiss on the lip does make her let go of you, though.

Unless you wanted to go out of bed and not stay in her loving embrace?

Cooking is always assigned to you, of course! She loves whatever you decide for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner!

Missing a few Ingredients? She's not called The Greatest without a reason! She'd even go to the farthest market and back for whatever you desire!

Will lift you up instead of grabbing whatever you need up there! You know, to make you feel tall! (Or make your bump your head...)

Would wrap her arms around your waist or shoulder when you're cooking. You're just... so... huggable. And adorable.

You aren't escaping it, of course but... she'll spoonfeed you! And vice versa, as well!

You're not just the only person doing all of the house work, of course! She'll help you with cleaning the dishes, wash the clothes, and when the both of you are cleaning windows... you'll get to see Feixiao lovingly staring at you while you wipe the dirt off of the window. She'll soon snap out of it though since you're usually snapping your fingers in front of her...

She's always big spoon when the both of you are laying on the coach! An arm slinged around your shoulder, unconsciously forming a small smile as you two watch your favorite show or series.

If you somehow managed to doze off on top of her... she gets to see that oh-so-lovely face of yours while you sleep... giving into the urge to just caress your face, kiss your forehead, and squeal when you hug her like a teddy bear.

She's... grateful to have you here.

And of course you're getting princess carried to bed BAHHAAHHAAHHA-

I mean, who wouldn't want to?

...

....

...

(Feels like I could've added more but this all I can offer for the Feixiao Simps Community 🛐)

(I also got my boy!!!!)

(Only took 13 pulls 🤧)

(He hits like a truck 🥲)

[gracieheartspedro]

Crave

Part 3 of "How Long"

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

find part 1 and 2 here!

dedication: @jenispunk <3 I love you sm jen. thank you for always supporting my writing and being the best wife a girl could ever dream of. you make my heart so happy. thank you for helping me edit and being the first to read this and encouraging me no matter what! love you love you love you!!!

description: a weekend escape with joel and sarah, kinda. the bed situation is a little confusing. luckily you and joel make it work. when sarah's not around, of course.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING AGAIN, dirty talk, daddy kink (aha), hotel sex?, begging? lmao I think that's it.

author's note: finally. it's here. I feel like I've been staring at this doc for 7 years. thank you all for your patience. I want to continue this series but I have to sit down and really brainstorm what I'd like the next parts to be. let me know your thoughts! THANK YOU FOR READING!

“My favorite Millers!” 

Your face was beaming, seeing Joel hop out of his truck with Sarah in tow. The truck was still running, the diesel engine chugging louder than any truck you had been in before. Joel always had a nicer, newer truck. He made great money and he was always having to go into construction zones that needed an all terrain vehicle. They always got pretty banged up with dirt and rocks, but he took excellent care of the interior. 

Joel grabs both of your bags, taking them to the backseat where Sarah would be crammed in with all the luggage. You give him a nod, silently thanking him. Sarah wraps her arms around your waist, giggling with excitement. 

“I’m so happy you’re coming with us! It’s going to be a great weekend,” She explains while you two walk over to the tall truck. You always found climbing into a truck unnatural and awkward yourself, but it was hot watching Joel hop in with ease. You agree with Sarah, all the while opening up the door for yourself. Sarah springs up to her seat, and you struggle to crawl up into the cab. It makes Joel chuckle. 

“I’m making you lift me into this thing next time,” you joke, easing back into the fabric seats, “Especially since you think watching me struggle is funny.”

Joel looks back in the rear view to see if Sarah’s paying attention, “‘s no problem at all, darlin’. I will gladly help you next time.”

You knew he was flirting. It makes your stomach bubble with excitement. He makes sure you two are buckled and starts on the two and half hour journey to Houston. Once you leave your neighborhood, Sarah taps your shoulder and holds out her new CD player. It’s purple and covered in sparkly stickers. 

“Looks like your Dad is supplying you with all the ways to listen to music,” you observe, glancing over at Joel. He’s just watching the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other propped up on the shifter. He looks younger, the dusk sky the perfect back drop for his pronounced nose and beautiful eyelashes. You couldn’t help but stare, even as Sarah’s talking your ear off. He just nods along to her, making sure she knows she’s heard. 

“Think I’m gonna listen to my Kelly Clarkson CD this time,” Sarah explains, putting her earphones over her voluminous curls, “So don’t try to talk to me!”

You and Joel giggle, shaking your heads at her comment. It’s not like you were the one’s talking before, you both think. 

It gives you both a moment without a kid’s ears nearby. 

“How was the rest of your work week?” He asks, tapping the shifter to the soft hum of the radio.

“Boring,” You mumble, “Think one of the guys in marketing has a crush on me and he’s making it impossible to avoid him. I can’t even go to the break room without him bothering me.”

You didn’t know why you felt the urge to tell Joel about the situation. It wasn’t even a real situation, it was just an annoying thing happening in your life.

“Hmph,” he ponders for a moment, “Want me to kill him?”

His tone is serious, but you know he’s just messing. You grin, nudging his arm with your elbow gently, ensuring it doesn’t move the steering wheel. 

“My hero,” You comment as you watch a smile crack across his face, “No, thank you, though. If it starts to get to stalker status, I will call you.”

“Seems like stalkin’ already, baby girl.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip. You purse your lips, contemplating his words. Sure it was creepy, but the guy was scrawny and you could probably snap him in half with two fingers. He had nothing to really worry about. Right?

Joel steals a glance over at you. 

“Maybe, but I’ll handle it.”

You wanted him to think you were strong enough to deal with unwanted attention, but to be honest, you weren’t sure how to say no to most men. You only ever had Tommy and he scared everyone away. Now everyone around town knew you were on the market, and men were drawn to your natural beauty and somewhat sassy attitude. 

Little did they know, you were hung up on the other Miller boy. 

“You let me know if you need me to talk to him,” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, just reaches his right hand out to rest on your thigh, “Man to man.”

His hand is so warm, you feel it through your black leggings. He was almost always like a furnace, but it was okay, because you always ran cold. But every time he touched you, you felt that warmth trail up your arms and legs. He made you feel different. Every fiber of your being became electrified when he was around. It was a sensation you never noticed when you were with Tommy. You begin chalking it up to just being nervous because he was older and larger and… well, hotter. 

“Again, my hero,” you respond sarcastically, letting your hand rest on top of his. It makes him more confident, gently massaging that area. You watch as his hand creeps closer and closer to the crack between your legs. You practically gasp at the contact, but you catch yourself before you do, remembering there’s a child behind you. 

So you smack his hand away, shooting him a glare. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’ just… sorry.”

You didn’t want him to pull away, your leg already missing his touch, but you knew what would happen if you did stuff like that in front of Sarah. She’s a teenage girl. She’ll talk. It’ll find it’s way to someone’s ears. 

You wanted to act like you didn’t care if Tommy found out, but deep down you knew it would be a disaster. You didn’t feel like being the talk of the town. You didn’t feel like explaining yourself to Tommy. You didn’t feel like watching Joel deal with the flack from his family, especially his mother. 

If you two wanted to continue this… game… you would have to keep it secret. That included keeping it away from Sarah’s eyes and ears. You and Joel would just be friends. You would just be her aunt. That’s it. 

“Don’t apologize,” You whisper, “Just not here.”

You two let the radio take over the rest of the trip, occasionally chatting about a song or what the newscaster says about the weather. Once you get into Houston, it’s already 8:30 at night. Joel pulls into the parking garage to the Marriot and you already start craving the bed that awaits you inside. 

-

“I call the bed near the window!” Sarah throws her stuff down, jumping straight onto one the huge queen size duvet. The room was nice. A large television set catches your eye immediately, proving that this was probably an expensive room if they were giving you free cable tv. The curtains were open, giving a beautiful view of Houston’s skyline. 

One thing you notice, too, is the fact that there was only two beds. You knew this, but it still made your stomach sink a bit. 

You realize you three hadn’t discussed the sleeping situation. You didn’t care where you would sleep, honestly. You just knew Sarah was a restless one, having slept next to her in a tent when she was 9. Family camping trips entailed you, Tommy, Joel, and Sarah sharing a 6 person tent and being absolutely miserable the whole entire time. Between Tommy’s snores and Sarah practically flailing all around the tent at night, you remember not getting a lick of sleep. 

“Go get a shower, Sarah. We will figure out who’s sleeping where.”

She groans at Joel, like usual. 

“Dad!”

“Shower,” he throws his bag down on the ground near the dresser, “No arguin’.”

Sarah sulks, her bag in hand, straight to the bathroom by the front door. You don’t say anything. You just start following Joel’s lead by putting your bags down next to his. You stand a bit too close to him, waiting for him to say where you’d be sleeping.  

He clears his throat, “I will take the recliner, if you want the bed.”

“Of course I want the bed, but I don’t want you to have to sleep in the recliner.”

It makes him laugh, how matter-of-fact you are. 

You hear Sarah start up the shower. You wouldn’t have to fear she hears you and Joel talk about the possibility of sleeping with one another. Again.

“It’s not a big deal,” He explains, unzipping his bags to grab his pajamas, “Sleep on the couch all the time.”

“But you have a nice plush couch,” You gesture towards the hard and structured looking recliner, “That doesn’t look comfortable at all.”

For a girl who didn’t want Joel touching you in the car, you were practically begging him to sleep next to you in the big comfortable hotel bed. 

“So, where do you want me to sleep?”

“Just take the bed.”

“But you want the bed.”

You swallow, not even looking up at him, “We both can have the bed.”

He’s silent, gripping onto his sweatpants and t-shirt. He slowly looks down at you, his eyes carry a curious glint in them. You cock your head, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“You and Sarah?”

“No, you and Sarah.”

He groans, “You are a fuckin’ tease.”

You giggle, watching him brush pass you to position himself close to the closet. He opens the closet door, slipping in like he’s looking for something in there. 

“What are you doing?”

“Changin’.”

“In the closet?”

He grabs his shirt from the nape of his neck and pulls it off smoothly. You can’t peel your eyes away, partially seeing his right peck from how he’s standing. It was like the morning after having sex with him. Your eyes were glued to him, his tanned skin practically asking to be touched and licked. 

You horny bitch. 

“Joel, get out of the closet.”

He chuckles, “Why? You want me to give you a show?”

Why yes, I really do, Joel. You think to yourself. You hum a response, peeling your eyes away. You needed to find your pajamas, a pair of Nike sports shorts and a black tank top. Lately, you’ve been sleeping completely naked, but that was obviously not an option here. 

Sarah finally leaves the bathroom as soon as Joel slides his pants up. She has her hair wrapped in a towel, which makes you smile. She looked so grown up, it’s hard to believe you met her when she was 6 years old. You wordlessly walk into the bathroom, beginning to change your outfit for your sleep wear. You splash some cold water on your face, your cheeks still blushed from seeing Joel shirtless. 

You hear the door outside open and close. You peak out, your traveling clothes wrapped up in your arms. Joel stands in the middle of the room, fiddling with the remote for the TV. 

“Where did Sarah go?” You question, packing your clothes back into your duffle. 

“She wanted to go get ice from the ice machine,” He grumbles, “Said she wanted to see if any of her teammates were awake or nearby.”

“Is her whole team staying here?”

“Yeah, pretty much every team gets a floor. Last year it was a like a huge sleepover. Fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel mutters, flicking through different channels, before landing on some westerns. You smirk, deciding to plop down on one of the beds. As soon as you lay back, Sarah comes back in, bucket in hand. 

“Can I go stay in Amelia’s room? Her mom is there, just two doors down.”

Well that solves the bed problem. 

Joel rolls his eyes, you can tell he’s already annoyed. “Is Amelia’s mom okay with that?”

“You want to go talk to her? I promise Dad, we will get up at 5:30 like we need to. Pleas-”

“Let’s go talk to Amelia’s mom.”

You hear them leave the room without saying anything else. 

You were tired from a long day at work and the long drive. But some excitement blooms in your stomach when you realize it may just be you and Joel, all alone in a hotel room. 

Before you have time to ponder all the wonders that may be in store for you, Joel comes back with a frustrated huff. 

“She staying over there?”

“Yeah, Amelia’s mom said it was fine. Then she started askin’ who you were. Guess they saw us in the hotel lobby.”

Your stomach twists, nervous at what his response was.

“And?”

“Told her you were Sarah’s aunt. She gave me a weird look.”

“Great, now the soccer mom’s will be oogling me tomorrow.”

“Well they will anyway,” Joel responds, finding a spot next to you on the edge of the bed, “Single ones won’t leave me alone.” 

You know he’s really just seeing if you’ll get jealous. But you don’t play into his little game. You just let out a loud hearty laugh. 

“The ladies just love a Miller.”

He grumbles something inaudible, nudging you with his elbow. “You do, don’t ya?”

“Sure do.”

His face softens, his eyes flicking down to your lips. 

You grin, “She’s 14 and super goofy. Loves to play socc-”

“You’re truly testin’ me today, ain’t ya?”

You can’t help yourself at that point. The way he’s flirting only gives you more reason to taunt him. 

“Is Sarah seriously going to be gone from the room all night?”

“Yeah,” He nods, leaning back on his palms. He acts like he’s watching TV, ignoring your not-so-subtle hints that you want his eyes on you. 

“So, I can finally ask you why you think it’s okay to tease me in the car?”

“Don’t know what you’re on about, darlin’,” He smirks, he knows.

You tilt your head to the side, finally lifting your hand onto his lap. You immediately start toying with him the same way, your hand creeping towards his crotch. His eyes peel away from the TV. He watches you closely, his eyes trailing from your gaze down to your fingers dancing on his pant leg. 

“You put your hand on my thigh and started inching closer and cl-“

“Are you tryin’ to make a point or pose a question?”

He was getting annoyed with the games already. But you’d only just begun. 

“I’m just trying to explain how you can’t do things like that to me in front of Sarah,” You remark, flicking your eyelashes up to his glare, “Especially when you can’t finish it.”

“Who said I ain’t gonna?”

You huff, “Well here we are, all alone in a hotel room. No kiddo in sight. Still not touching me.”

“Don’t think you deserve it cause you’re a tease.”

“How am I a tease, Miller?”

“You exist and that’s enough. Walkin’ around in a tank top,” He gestures to your chest, “Just beggin’ to be touched.”

Your skin is set alight. The words go straight to your core. 

“Joel-“

You’re cut off. His hands work quickly, pulling you by the nape of your neck, right to his eager lips. You begin to realize you had been longing for this moment for so long. He couldn’t resist anymore, his whole body buzzing at the fact that he finally has you again. 

His lips are soft and slow as they make their way around yours. His hands eventually trail down to your butt, his hands cradling both cheeks. He lifts you forward, sliding you up and onto his lap. 

“Been wantin’ this for months, baby.” 

Butterflies erupt in the pit of your tummy. You can feel them travel up to your chest as you look down at him, his eyelids heavy and his lips pursed.  

He waited for you to respond to his calls, knowing you needed time. He needed to be patient. You would come around, he knew it. After months, here you are. 

He thinks back to every time he was touching himself late at night, he would imagine the night you two shared. Your soft curves and needy dripping pussy. It drove him wild imagining you like this again. 

“I think it’s been more than wantin’, Joel,” You grind down on his prominent bulge growing in his sweatpants, “Think you need it.”

He grins, finally getting out of his own head.

“Such a little tease, damn it.”

You lean down, mindlessly speckling kisses behind his ear and neck. Your boobs rest right in front of his face, and you’re right, he needs it. His hands leave your behind, reaching up to the straps of your tank top. He tugs them down your biceps, allowing your cleavage to spill out more. 

Your hands find his dark peppered curls at the nape of his neck, pulling downward. You needed him closer and he obliged. He starts to kiss your collarbones, wandering down to the swell of your breasts. You can feel yourself staining your sports shorts with anticipation. 

You rock your hips, craving more. He takes the hint, reaching back down to lift you from your ass. He switches spots, laying you on your back on the plush white duvet. He’s leaning over you now, which gives you a great view of how spent he looks already. His gray sweatpants are hanging lower, tenting where his cock has grown hard. 

He smirks, taking off his shirt the same way he did earlier. With one hand, it slips right over his head and onto the floor. 

“Jesus,” You huff out, using the time to remove your top, “I need you, Joel.”

The smirk never leaves his lips. He leans down, pushing your legs apart with his pointer and middle finger. You open up for him, wanting nothing more for him to dive into you in every possible way. You watch as he slides his fingers up your thigh, past the openings of your shorts. 

He realizes you aren’t wearing underwear. He sighs as he swipes the pads of his fingers across your wet slit. 

“I know you do,” He drawls, watching you writhe under his touch, “You need me as much as I need you.”

He practically tears off your shorts, not wasting any time fighting with the fabric. 

You adjust how your laying to accommodate him laying between your thighs. He lays down on his stomach, bringing your hips close to his mouth. You watch as he kisses your inner thighs, his breath hot fanning against your skin. 

You remember the last time you were in this position. You spent night after night remembering the best head you’ve ever gotten, from the one and only, Joel Miller. And you could tell Joel was not going to go another moment without making you cum on his tongue. 

When his tongue hits the top of your slit, you whine at the contact. He presses his face in, diving deeping into your lips. As soon as he finds your clit, he puts all his attention there. His nose is pressed against your mound as he hums against your sensitive bud. 

“Joel,” You cry, reaching down between your legs to grab the crown of his head, your hands lacing into his locks, “Right fuckin’ there.”

He continues his movements, only increasing in speed in which he flicks his tongue. He wraps his lips over the swollen area, sucking and lapping your sweetness. He pulls away, the slick between your thighs missing him instantly. He brings his fingers up to his mouth and wets them with saliva. He glances up at your completely dazed face. 

“‘M gonna fuck you with my fingers first,” His voice is deep and hushed, “Make you cum. You gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

You don’t even know where it comes from. But you say it with your chest.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You never expected the moan to come out of his mouth. It’s deep and guttural. He couldn’t believe his ears, and he can’t believe the words came from your mouth. His good girl? That fuckin’ flithy?

He slips his fingers into you without resistance. His mouth finds it’s way back to your core, fucking you in unison. 

You reach up to your chest, cradling your own boobs. Joel’s still only in sweatpants but they are riding low on his hips. As he’s giving you his all, he’s grinding his hips into the bed, trying to get whatever friction he can. Watching the motion alone is driving you wild, sending your hips rotating on his tongue. You knew the release was coming, you could feel it in your fingertips. 

And when it comes, it’s like fireworks inside your stomach and chest. You lurch forward, crying out his name. You knew it was probably way too loud for the thin hotel walls, but you couldn’t help yourself. The orgasm sends stars speckling across your vision. 

Joel fucks you through the comedown. You are the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on, he thinks. When your body rests back, you’re panting, trying to ground yourself for a second. Joel pulls his fingers out and sucks each digit. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” You mewl, reaching out for him. You just need to touch him. 

He shimmies his sweatpants down and off his legs. He’s sitting back on his knees, smiling down at your desperate eyes. He crawls on top of you, his dick prodding at your thighs. He leans down, trapping your lips into another longing kiss. His hands trail down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He pulls back after a couple seconds, gazing into your eyes. 

“You still on that birth control?”

You hum in response. 

“Need me to pull out still?”

You smirk, lacing your arms around his shoulders, “No. Need you to cum inside me.”

He shakes his head, sitting back to line himself with your entrance.

“My dirty girl,” He runs his cock head between your swollen red lips, triggering your hips to move closer to him, “You drive me insane.”

“Come on, Joel. I’ve been waiting for ages for you to fuck me. Need you. Now.”

He chuckles darkly, still not giving you what you want. “Waiting ages, huh?”

“Joelllll,” You beg, smacking his chest, “Please.”

“Mmm,” He pushes forward just enough to relieve your ache, “Love it when you beg for it.”

He practically splits you open when he snaps his hips. You both groan simultaneously, unable to hold back this sick fantasy you’re both playing into. You feel more full than you ever did before. You don’t remember it hurting this good. 

“Holy fuck,” you whine, “So fucking full, Joel.”

He slowly pulls back, “You tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You shake your head, throwing your head back as he sets a cautious pace. He’s watching all your facial expressions, making sure he’s not hurting you. You wince when he starts to pick up the pace, which causes him to halt completely. 

“No,” You plead, “More. Faster. Please, just please.”

He says nothing, just pushes up your thighs so the back of them are flush with the front of his. He leans over you, his elbows on each side of your head. He grinds into you while his dark curls fall into your face. You tilt your head up, finding the crook of his neck again. 

His cock felt so good dragging in out of you. You felt like you could stay in this position forever. You molded so perfectly around him. He treated you like this beautiful mural, taking his time with delicate strokes. His hands wrapped around the back of your head, holding you in the curve of his body.

You latch your lips onto his neck, peppering lovebites everywhere. You didn’t even think about if they could be seen later. In the moment, you only thought of him as yours. He was yours and everyone would fucking know it. 

He’s starting to get more greedy. He pulls back, his warmth moving away from your perked up nipples. His upper body the best view you could get, so you couldn’t complain too much. He grabs behind your knees, using them as leverage as he starts to pound into you. 

Your eyes meet and for fuck’s sake, he’s perfect. You never knew you could see Joel Miller like this. Like someone who fucked you so good, but also cared so tenderly for you. He wanted to see you in the throws of pleasure, not even worrying about when he’d get his rocks off. He got his rise out of seeing how much you enjoyed yourself.

His ravenous drive to bring you to the edge is causing the headboard to slam against the wall which each stroke. He brings his left hand up to your bouncing tits, grabbing your nipple and tugging on it. He knew what touching your boobs did to you. He remembers watching your visceral reactions to him toying with them before. It brings a smile to his face. 

“I’m gonna-”

You don’t even finish your sentence, you just gasp as you feel his cock head hit the deepest parts of you. A place no other man has made it to. 

“I don’t want anyone else,” He musters out, his teeth clenching as your pussy restricts around him. He means it. He may be drunk on you, but he feels those words down to his bones. “I only ever want this.”

It was never just about the sex. Joel cared for you. Fuck, maybe he even loved you. 

You swallow, propping yourself up on your elbows. You glance down, watching his cock slip so perfectly, in and out of you. 

“I’m yours, Joel,” You manage to peep out before the orgasm you’ve been holding back builds to a maddening point, “I’m yours.”

The words make his cock twitch. He can’t help himself, he needs you to cum right this very moment. He doesn’t say anything, just unhooks your legs and uses his right hand to put pressure on your clit. Tears start to prick in your eyes as he lazily rubs circles, humming in satisfaction. He feels you tightening up, he knows your close. 

Your vision goes white. You body starts to vibrate, the pure bliss he’s sending you into takes you to a whole other dimension. You want more. More. More. More. 

As he watches you seize up, he can’t resist his own orgasm. The explosion sends him into a moaning mess. He fucks into you, painting your walls with his cum, not letting a drop go to waste. 

He collapses on top of you. You don’t even care, you feel like jello anyway, he could melt right into you.

He rolls off after a minute. 

You always miss him when he’s not near you. 

You stare at the ceiling, pondering the right words to say to him. Nothing comes to mind. He gets up, walking naked to the bathroom. He grabs a rag from the shelf above the toilet, running it under some warm water. 

When he returns, you let him clean all around your body. You make sure he doesn’t wipe away the wet kisses he left all over you, though. 

“You okay?”

You finally look at him. 

You want to say yes, because you were okay. Physically. But your heart wanted to pulsate out of your chest. 

“I will be,” You state simply, “Just tired.”

He slowly starts grabbing all your articles of clothing off the floor, dressing you once he collects all of them. He’s careful with you. Gentle. 

“Do you want to sleep in the same bed?”

The question rings in your ears. Of course you did. 

“As long as you get up at the ass crack of dawn and move before Sarah comes in.”

He chuckles, pulling his sweatpants back over his waist. He doesn’t even bother to put on his shirt.

“Will do, baby.”

-

When you wake up, you realize the overheard light flickered on. You contort your sleep dazed body, Joel’s upper body practically laying over you. You try to blink the haze out of your eyes, but your tired mind is completely shocked when you see an outline of a girl. 

Shitshitshitshitshit.

You fling your body upward, rattling Joel awake. He’s startled, his arms flinging off of you. 

“I knew it!” Her voice is piercing. “I knew it! Holy shit!”

“Sar-”

“Are you two dating? Or are you just… wait, ew!”

She’s rambling, her words clashing together in confusion. Your heart is about to hammer out of your chest. 

“Sarah, we aren’t dating,” You declare, your voice shaking. 

“But you’re sleeping together?”

You could cut the silence with a sword. It’s so thick and awkward. 

A 14 year old girl shouldn’t know you’re sleeping with her Dad. Let alone walk in after you spent all night tangled up in him. 

“Sarah,” Joel’s voice is buttery and raspy after he wakes up. You hold the comforter up to your chest. You had your tank top on, but it hangs so low on you, you don’t want to risk anything. “Grab your uniform, get dressed. We can talk about this later.”

“Does Uncle To-”

“Sarah! Stop!”

It scares you since it’s so close to your ear. His voice changes so abruptly, it makes you cringe a bit. 

Hearing the question from Sarah’s lips makes you feel queasy. Having the girl who you always considered your niece ask if her uncle knew you were sleeping with her dad... God what a fucking mess. 

You watch her storm across the room, grabbing her backpack and race to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. 

Joel groans next to you as he slams back into the plush pillows. 

“She will be fine. We will talk about it later,” Joel says under his breath. 

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. 

You hadn’t thought much of this through. Ever since you and Joel first slept together, you pushed your harbored feelings to the side. Sometimes they creep in, which would send you into a panic. Because deep down, you knew you felt something for Joel. Something you hadn’t felt since you first started dating Tommy. Maybe even ever. It was exciting. He made you feel special. After everything he said to you last night, you knew he possessed some similar emotions and feelings.  

You felt crazy for believing this could work. 

You knew this would be complicated. Now Sarah is involved. How do you explain these emotions to a child? You don’t. 

You think about all the horrible outcomes to this situation. Tommy wanting to fight Joel. His mom never accepting you back into the family. Who knows, maybe Sarah gets so upset at the situation, she never treats you the same again. 

But then you think about Joel. How he’s a night and day difference to what Tommy was to you. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to take care of you every chance he could. 

You start to think back to the times when you were still with Tommy. Joel defended you when you two had a blowout fight. He always made sure to have a watchful eye on you when you all went out to bars. He was even there when you graduated college, giving you a bouquet of beautiful daises he swore up and down Sarah picked out. But you knew the truth. Joel loved daisies. He even had his Mom plant some in his front yard last year. 

You were just so scared. You didn’t want to be hurt again. You did not want your feelings to be wrong. 

You glance down at him, your back still turned. He could read your face, he knew you were overthinking everything. Your mind was working overtime, trying to muster up some excuse to run away and forget everything that happened between you two. There was nothing normal about this situation. 

But fuck, you both really wanted it. So bad. You couldn’t keep lying to yourself. 

His hand creeps up your back, resting a reassuring palm on your aching shoulder. 

“Stop thinkin’ for a minute,” he whispers, “You don’t need to make any decisions right this minute. We will just take it one second at a time. Ain’t no way ‘m lettin’ you go. I want you here.”

You didn’t know if he meant here in general or in the figurative sense. 

He meant it both ways. 

Maybe it was crazy, but that feeling was deep in your chest. This palpable inkling that this could evolve into you being his. 

This being more than sex? More than a crush?

Being Joel’s sounded like a fever dream.

He wanted nothing more but to wrap you up into his arms, hold you and kiss your head, reassuring you that you two can figure it out together. But instead, Sarah walks out in her soccer uniform, squashing the moment. She stands in front of the bed, finally making eye contact with you. 

“You guys gonna get up and watch me kick ass, or are you gonna to lay in bed all day?”

You smile at her. You silently prayed this girl would stay in your life forever.

“I know my answer.”

Joel smiles, “’s go kick some ass.”

-

again thank you for reading!! let me know your thoughts!

find part 1 and 2 here!

[blackynsupremacy]

THERE’S SOMETHING

ABOUT YOU.

CHAPTER 2

pairing: smallville!clark kent x blackfem!oc

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

guest starring: aaliyah haughton as lyric james

also starring:

angela bassett as crystal james

rick fox as joseph james

summary: ever since lana lang has moved in with the sullivan’s, clark kent’s nightly telescopic views of the galaxy and daily glimpse of the sunrise tend to get lonelier. that is until a moving truck, a wandering amicable feline, and her frustrated owner, lyric james, makes her debut in his life as her family are the new owners of the old potter house next door. things between the new neighbors start to shift as clark is tasked as her personal tour guide at her new school. one little slip is all it takes for her to learn he’s more than meets the eye in this small town.

contains: lots of words, friends to neighbors, use of gifs for visuals, tooth rotting fluff, a bit of angst, lyric and clark getting closer, mild swearing, cute moments, slow burn, main audience is black readers but everyone is welcome. lyric’s thoughts, clark’s thoughts.

taglist: @zombiehe4rt @ellethespaceunicorn @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @rosiestalez @sabrinasopposite @tryingtograspctrl @simply-the-best23 @gxuxhdjdu @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @paisholotus

important a/n: for my black smallville girlies, i have created a smallville x black reader tag, so please if you have any content for any smallville characters idc if it’s a rant, fanfic, or meme, put it under that tag because we deserve that space and i want to see more than my stuff on there!

please read: CHAPTER 1

it was sunday afternoon and the james family were now officially moved in. furniture, clothing, and appliances were all accounted for and every necessary document for a citizen in smallville. lyric’s parents went next door to meet the kents to properly introduce themselves before venturing out to find the local market to freshly stock their kitchen with food and have their first meal together as a family in their new home. lyric stayed back, claiming she was tired from all of the lifting, moving, and organizing. she sat on her bed with her legs crossed and a sleeping noir on her lap as her thumbs pressed on the right arrow button of her digital photo album. she always saw it as a hobby, but her friends back home were always impressed with her photography skills. lyric adored to capture the realness and beauty of her city. she appreciated that it didn’t have to be a large garden or a gigantic skyscraper for it to be art. her album included graffiti painted murals, street musicians sharing their talents, or a child’s beaming smile as they indulged in an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. these photos brought her nostalgic bliss until she clicked upon a picture of her and omar. lyric felt such a twinge of pain that bit at her chest and a suffocating tightness in her throat that she inhaled and simply shut off the device. she picked up noir in one arm to get off her bed and place it on her desk next to her computer. if she didn’t do that, the thing would’ve thrown and smashed into the wall.

there was one thing that could make this feeling go away: a vinyl. lyric placed noir on the floor to roam around the room as she pleased before crossed over to her shelf that her record player atop of it. obviously being the year 2002, a lot of people her age wouldn’t care for them now, but this was a family heirloom that her grandpa, joseph “jojo” (as she affectionately called him) sr., passed down to lyric for her to enjoy music of the past and present. the brown skinned girl made the adjustments that the player was ready before she squats down to find a suitable album to listen to. hmm. beatles? nah. duke ellington? not today. whitney houston? maybe. lauryn hill? yes! lyric slid “the miseducation of lauryn hill” vinyl from the album cover to gingerly place it on the turntable. her fingertips grip the tonearm to maneuver the needle that gently descends onto the spinning vinyl, a soft crackle is heard in the room, indicating the start of one of lyric’s favorite songs. the sultry notes of " ex-factor” filled the room, lyric lost herself in the moment as she turned the dial to increase the volume. she grabs her hairbrush from her vanity to lip-sync as if she were on a world tour with her audience of noir who seemed to enjoy the impromptu performance of her owner swaying her hips to every rhythm. lyric felt the vibe hit differently as she sang along with the breakdown.

(care) care for me, care for me

I know you care for me

(there) there for me, there for me

said you'd be there for me

(cry) cry for me, cry for me

you said you'd die for me

(give) give to me, give to me

why won't you live for me?

care care for me, care for me

you said you'd care for me

(there) there for me, there for me

said you'd be there for me

(cry) cry for me, cry for me

you said you'd die for me

(give) give to me, give to me

why won't you live for me?

(care) care for me, care for me

you said you'd care for me—

“LYRIC RENEÉ JAMES!”

just as she hit a high note, crystal’s voice boomed as she burst through the door. lyric halted to turn around to see her mother’s facial expression change from a feigned stern look to one of amusement and laughter in her voice. lyric sheepishly giggled as she walked to the player to lift the needle off the vinyl to stop the music.

“hey, mama! what’s up? did the store have the frosted flakes?” she asked stumbling towards her mother. whenever lyric was caught like that, she attempted to take the attention off herself by changing the topic of conversation.

“girl, you and that record player! i’ve been calling your name for five minutes, but it looks like you were selling out stadiums on your world tour like you’re a child of destiny or something.” crystal quipped as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“ma, it’s destiny’s child and i’m sorry. i just wanted to kill some time until ya’ll got back. is there anything you need me to do?”

“don’t get smart, girl. yes, get dressed. we’re going to dinner!”

“oh, for real? ya’ll found a restaurant out here that fast?”

“it’s not a restaurant, child. we’re just going next door. that nice family of that sweet boy—uh, honey, what’s his name? he found noir for you yesterday.”

“clark—clark kent?”

“yeah yeah, him! his family invited us to have dinner tonight, so start getting ready before we leave you.” crystal demands before she saunters out of her daughter’s room.

“you couldn’t leave me if you tried, ma!” lyric jokingly called out with a chuckle.

“try me and find out!” crystal responds a sound of her bedroom door opening and closing following suit.

lyric giggles while shaking her head before she goes to her closet to assemble the attire of a cropped black top with long mesh sleeves, khaki colored jeans, a sleeveless army patterned vest with a zipper, and combat boots. within the next thirty minutes, she did her hygiene, got dressed, and briefly primped herself in the mirror until her she deemed her final look presentable for the evening ahead. once her signature hoops were on, she kissed noir on the head and warned the cat to be on her best behavior before going downstairs to find her parents at the front door waiting to make their journey to the kents. she noticed her mother holding what looked like a boxed dessert of some kind before they walked out the door. it was a mild autumn temperature with a light breeze. the sun was starting to set painting an array of vibrant colors in the sky and setting the stage for the moon and stars to take their role for the night.

the family reached the kent house and stepped onto the porch. joseph glanced at his watch that indicated that they were ten minutes early and used his index finger to ring the doorbell. jonathan and martha answered the door within a second, amicably greeting the family with pleasant grins, hugs, and handshakes before they were cordially welcomed in the home. lyric’s eyes perused the classic, american interior of the living room, wooden staircase, and the multitude of family photos. lyric found it all so endearing her trance was broken when she heard a male voice speak her name with a friendly tone, it was not as deep as her father’s nor mr. kent’s.

“hey, lyric!” the girl’s head turned and her earthy eyes ascended to meet his of sky blue and an award winning smile on his lips. lyric could definitely peep his simple, classic farmhouse style of a red plaid flannel with jeans and boots, but he looked well put together nonetheless and not to mention of his clean, fresh scent.

“hey! what’s up? how ya’ doing, clark?” lyric addressed him with a dimpled smile, standing with one leg in front of the other and placed her hands in her back pockets. she wasn’t really sure what to do with her hands at the moment, she’s already shaken his hand when they first met, but she didn’t want to be too forward to give him at least a side hug.

“i’m good—well, great! i’m glad you guys could make it. you look really good, by the way. i like your outfit!” clark was trying not to stutter as his cheeks turned a bit red because he was telling the truth. it wasn’t a lie that he thought lyric was pretty, but to not come off as a creep and secure a potential friendship with his new neighbor, he complimented her fashion style that was also eye-catching. it was comfortable, simple, but it stood out from the rest with both neutral and vibrant colors.

“thanks, clark! i appreciate the invite and you don’t look bad yourself. you clean up real nice.” lyric honestly reciprocates the compliment. he’s too sweet. who needs to eat when your ego’s been fed?

all of the conversations were halted as the kents took the initiative to lead the james family to the kitchen. they gathered at the table and the husbands respectfully sat with their wives while clark pulled out a chair for lyric to sit next to him. with a soft voice and a smile of gratitude, she utters a thank you to the boy before taking her seat. the meal consisted of chicken fried steak and a spread of fresh farm to table cuisine that tasted like tlc was injected into every bite they took. as the families got to know each other, they conversed about the smallville community such as people they should (or shouldn’t) meet, places to go, and things to do. lyric was piqued at the mention of a meteor shower that previously happened in the fall of 1989, but saddened to learn that there was destruction, trauma, and long lasting effects, but the people of smallville had eventually learned to move on.

“oh my goodness, that’s awful!” crystal gasped with an appalled expression.

“it truly was—life altering, but not all was lost that day because we gained a son. that was the day when clark came into our lives and i wouldn’t change a thing.” martha responds with fondness as she places her palm on her chest and glances at her son earning smiles from everyone at the table.

“aww, that’s so sweet, mrs. kent!” lyric cooed as her chest swelled with warmth. she was a sucker for a happy ending.

“ah, mom. please don’t get too emotional! not in front of our new neighbors.” he jokingly pleads in slight embarrassment as his cheeks flush to scarlet causing the rest of the table to chuckle. mr. kent mentioned a man by the name of “luthor” lyric forgot his first name, but he’s a wealthy ceo of his own company. he’s originally from a city called metropolis, but moved into a mansion in smallville. the james family discovered that clark actually saved his life and they became friends ever since, hence his connections to the kents. lyric was amazed at the farm boy’s bravery, but she also detected in mr. kent’s tone that there was some mixed feelings about this dude. clark would chime in to come to this man’s defense. meteor showers, rich guys, clark being a hero. maybe this town does have some interesting stuff going on.

after dinner and with their parents’ permission, clark and lyric were excused to go to his loft in the barn to continue to know more about each other. it was already dark outside, but the many stars in the sky set the scenery. clark gave lyric a short “tour of his fortress of solitude”. lyric thought of clark to be lucky to have this huge, private space and she found it thoughtful that he at least felt comfortable with her enough to share it with her. he guided her to the telescope by the open loft window. she leaned forward and peeked her earth toned pupil through the eyepiece and he made sure to adjust the focus to capture all of the captivating spots that inhabited with galaxy. lyric felt the warmth of clark’s towering figure behind hers and she listens to his passionate, tenor voice as he educates her about the cosmos and eagerly answers any questions she has. it sounds like he wants to be up there. maybe he wants to be an astronaut after graduation.

a light bulb goes off in lyric’s brain before she moves back from the telescope and her two fingertips lightly tap his forearm to which clark’s eyes are immediately on hers.

“hey, clark?” she questions.

“yes, lyric?” he responds.

“i got an idea.”

“what might that be?”

“you wanna play 21 questions? i know it’s kinda lame, but it’s a good way to know each other if we’re next door neighbors and going to the same school, right? so are you in or are you out?”

“i’m in! do you wanna sit?” he offers gesturing to the sofa. lyric nods in agreement and they seat themselves on the cushions.

“bet! i’ll start with something basic. what’s your favorite color?”

“mostly blue and red. what part of new york were you from?”

“brooklyn. i’mma get this out the way—how tall are you?”

clark chuckles before answering.

“6’3. what’s something you love doing the most?”

“taking pictures with my camera! especially things that give me inspiration. i wish i had it take a picture of these stars…what’s your favorite food?”

“pizza. i can’t live without it if i wanted to!”

“get outta my head, that’s my favorite, too! there was this place back home called tony’s and let me tell you, they had the best new york style pizza on the block. they’d make the slices so big that you gotta fold it like a taco to get one bite and you’ll never finish it the day you get it.”

“sounds like my kind of place! i’m never one to back down from a challenge, so i’ll take your word for it, lyric. oh, right! the game— i wonder how’d you get to know noir?”

“that’s an interesting story. well, there was always this cat in my neighborhood just going on about its business, but some people were superstitious and thought she was bad luck because you know, she’s a black cat, so they would yell and curse at her like she was something evil. i was 12 years old and she was so cute to me, so i always fed her a little treat or just gave her a bowl of milk. one day it was raining, and i was in such a rush to get in the house that i didn’t see that i left the door cracked and she followed me in. i knew my parents wouldn’t feel too excited about any animals in our house, but she was cold, wet, and shivering, so i did what i had to do. i took care of her and it took two weeks of begging and my parents let me keep her because i was showing them that i was mature when i took care of her and the rest is history.”

“that was very kind of you, lyric. noir’s very lucky to have you as her owner, you’re basically her hero when everyone made her feel like an outcast.” clark’s lips formed a small smile and commended her as he peered at her side profile. lyric just sheepishly smiled as her dimpled cheeks radiated with heat.

“i think it’s the other way around! you would’ve done the same. the last i checked i didn’t save a rich dude from drowning, so you’re more of a hero than me.” lyric and clark chortled before she resumed the game with a question,

“what do you wanna do when you graduate, clark?” lyric quizzically awaited his answer, her eyes boring into his as her elbows rest on her lap with her chin resting in her palms. clark sits in thought for a few seconds to honestly get the answer from his brain through his mouth.

“i think i want to go into journalism. there’s something fascinating about getting a fresh scoop on something and you jump down the rabbit hole to get all of the facts from all of these different sources. the only downside is the possibility of invading someone’s privacy, breaking someone’s trust, and proofreading an article.” he states before they both chuckle at his joke.

“oh, really? for a minute, i thought you wanted to work for nasa with the way you were talking about the stars. it was like you were giving me a tour of your hometown, but it was the galaxy. journalism is cool though. clark, you could be on tv if you wanted to! it sounds to me you got it down to tee. you’ll do numbers, trust.” lyric shift her leg over the other and placed her elbow on the back edge of sofa, leaning her head in her palm.

“i’ve never got a chance to ask you this, but i really like your name. it’s unique. what gave your folks the inspiration?” he questioned and wittingly pretended to hold an invisible microphone with a playful smirk curving on his lips and a piqued glint in his eyes as he pointed his hand towards her lips, awaiting her answer. clark’s smile grew wider as lyric giggled and clasped her hands together.

“aha! i hear the journalist popping out now. we’re really doing an interview, huh? okay, well, my mama loves music. she used to play piano and write poetry as a hobby, but back then, her parents wanted her to do something more…practical and she went on to be a nurse. of course she loves what she does, but she told me that when i cried for the first time after i was first born, i was like the lyrics to her song of her life, so yeah, that’s why they named me lyric.” both teens simpered at the thought of their mother’s affection towards them.

“i can tell that you and your mom are close like my mom and i.”

“you’re not wrong, your mom speaks fondly on a day of tragedy and chaos because of you! there’s no doubt that she loves you a lot, clark. it must’ve been hectic giving birth during a meteor shower.”

there was a beat of silence.

“well— i’m actually adopted. my parents adopted me when i was around three years old and they raised me ever since. i’m not ashamed of it of course because they only want what’s best for me.” clark uttered as he cleared the air of awkwardness when he noticed lyric raise her brows in awe.

“oh-ooh, i’m so sorry, clark! i shouldn’t have assumed, it’s just—ya’ll are so tight, so i couldn’t tell. never be ashamed because blood doesn’t always mean family. as long as you got people in your circle who truly care for you at your best and at your worst, that’s family.” her hand slowly reaches toward him to place her palm on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring touch which clark receives with a small smile.

“thank you, lyric.”

“don’t mention it, clark.”

clark places his hand on top of hers for a brief moment and they both pulled away before things got too awkward between them than it should. for the next several minutes they continued with their inquiries about their lives, interests, favorites, and pet peeves. the parents were about to go their separate ways and made their way out to the porch to fetch the kids, but what they heard was laughter and a good conversation echoing from the open window in the barn. they all found it endearing, but joseph and crystal had to be up and at em’ the next day for their first days at work and lyric, her first day of school. jonathan and martha insisted to the james’ that lyric can hang for a few more minutes because they enjoy lyric’s company for their son and the kids would eventually tire out from their activity. knowing their son, he would bring their daughter home safely in one piece. crystal and joseph pondered on it and decided it would be okay, but they all agreed that if lyric wasn’t home by nine, one of them would pick her up. they bid each other a friendly goodnight and the james couple walked down the path and retired to their home.

lyric and clark stood outside the barn. it was pitch out, but the sky was still scattered with the soft shining light of the stars. her laughter mingling with the cool evening breeze. clark stood at her side with his hands stuffed in his pockets and an easy smile on his face, both of them reluctant to let the night come to an end.

“i swear, my parents be playing with me like that! of course they’d leave me if i don’t haul ass in time.” she chuckled, kicking a pebble to the side and glances over her shoulder to the familiar path that led to her house. clark laughed, a warm sound that filled the space between them.

“i wouldn’t be surprised. they’re the type of people that when they’re ready to go, they’re ready to go, even if you’re not. ,” he teased, his azure eyes sparkling. the connection between the teens felt easy like a sunday morning, it was a kind of chemistry that made them forget their mundane worries all together, but as the stars twinkled with every second passing by, reality crept back in.

“ugh, i gotta go home. god forbid i oversleep on my first day tomorrow.,” with a sad smile, lyric sighed glanced at the path again.

clark straightened his posture, his smile dimming just a touch. “i’ll walk you home, lyric.” he offered without missing a beat.

“thanks, clark!” she replied and they started their journey.

as they strolled side by side, the air was thick with a comfortable silence momentarily, but they resumed the stories of themselves and their friends. with each giggle and chuckle, it what seemed like a brisk two minute walk, felt more like a five mile stroll to her house. when they reached her front door, it felt too soon.

“goodnight, lyric. it was great seeing you again.” clark said, the volume of his voice diminished as he took a small step back. he didn’t want to make a bad impression by waking her parents.

“goodnight, clark! i can’t thank you enough. i’ll meet you at that bus stop where you showed me in the morning.” she utters, her heart fluttering a bit and a tickle in her throat. as her knuckles were about to knock on the door, clark called her name, his tone almost hesitant.

here it goes, it’s now or never.

“hey—um, how about we meet early tomorrow to watch the sunrise? it’s really beautiful out there and maybe it would spark inspiration for you to take pictures on your camera. that’s if you’re okay with it of course! ,” he suggested, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

he could see lyric’s toffee toned face light up at the idea. “yeah, i’m down for that. i don’t usually like waking up early, but you’re good in my book, so why not?” she responded, her smile beaming and she turned briefly to knock on the door to signal for parents to answer. joseph came to the door and graciously thanked clark for getting his daughter home in time.

as lyric stepped inside, she glanced at clark one last time to give him a wave and after he reciprocated, she disappeared behind the door. she didn’t realize the dopey smile that was stuck on her face as she walked in, but joseph did. with an amused grin, the older male crossed his arms and quipped,

“what you smilin’ about, lil’ girl?”

lyric stopped and cleared her throat, embarrassed that she was in such a trance that she didn’t realize her facial expression.

“uh—n-nothing just had a good time, daddy.” she stammered and twiddled her fingers.

“mhm, sure didn’t seem like nothing. get some rest, baby girl. it’s your first day tomorrow.” joseph chuckles and bids his daughter goodnight with a kiss to her forehead and ascended up the stairs to join his wife in bed. lyric playfully groaned, rolled her eyes at her father’s antics, and followed suit to change out of her clothes to her nightly attire and silk head wrap. she gathers her already sleeping onyx kitty in her arms, but doesn’t forget to adjust her alarm clock to a decent, but early enough time to get ready and meet clark before school. her eyelids close to begin her slumber.

as clark walked home, he was excited for his meeting with lyric and for her to meet his friends at school, but he felt a twinge of guilt. he felt he was betraying his loyalty to lana because watching the sunrises would be their “thing”. sure, he loved her, but it wasn’t like she’s his girlfriend. lyric was just a (almost) friend, all he wanted was to make her feel welcome, and that thought warmed his heart. clark really hoped that she would come through in the morning. he didn’t see any harm at showing someone the beauty and wonders of his hometown especially if they came from a whole different setting. once he got home, clark helped his parents tidy up the kitchen, bid them goodnight, and rested his body for the following day.

[ahhnini]

FLUFFTOBER 2024 - 10.5 rafe cameron

pumpkin patch date!

flufftober masterlist

the smell of maple and hay hit your nose as you entered the local farmer’s market. seeing barrels of pumpkins in the distance, your eyes sparkle as you drag rafe down the aisle of vendors. “slow down, baby,” he smiles, “it’s not gonna disappear.”

reaching the orange wonderland, you take in the atmosphere. on the right, you see truck stands selling caramel popcorn, cotton candy, and other sweet treats. on the left are ticket booths for the rides sprinkled around the patch.

you begin by eating a caramel apple. sitting down on one of the park benches, you bite into the sweet fruit, rafe smiling at you like a puppy. he softly chuckles, wiping off caramel that fell to the side of your mouth. “you want a bite, rafe?” he shakes his head, “all yours, baby.”

he holds your hand, guiding you to the array of pumpkins on the floor. “do you wanna take one home?” he pulls you closer to him, feeling the chilly air hit the tip of your nose. you hum before replying, “it’s okay, rafe. they look heavy.” rafe shrugs before going up to one of the pumpkins on the dirt, bending his knees and lifting it up to his hips. “not that heavy,” you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes. “I get it, you’re strong. but I don’t wanna take one home, I wouldn’t know what to do with it,” he puts the pumpkin down on the ground, dusting off his hands, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“excuse me!” a little girl taps the back of your leg. “yes?” you reply, bending down to her level. she has a slight pout on her lips, her voice soft, “I have a school project I have to do, it’s for art class,” she holds up a worksheet and crayons, “I was wondering if I could draw a picture of you two on the pumpkins!” she beams. glancing over towards rafe, he nods his head, “of course you can. where do you want us to sit?” “on top of the hay, please! I want to have the pumpkins as a background,” little feet run to the hay bales, you both smile at her as you sit down. “just stay still!”

“done!” her little voice shouts, “alright!” rafe enthusiastically replies, sticking out his hand to high five her. “do you guys wanna see?” she turns the paper around to reveal colored drawings of the two of you, pumpkins in the background, and little red hearts drawn all over.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @maybankslover @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

(if username is not highlighted please turn on mentions! <3)

[thebearer]

no but i love your writing! ever since i watched s1 and 2 last weekend because of a youtube ad, i peaked in the carmy tag and was a surprised to see the amount of stories carmy had! would love a scenario where he’s married to a sassy, take no shit type of reader sim to natalie. his wife legit could work with him for all i care. but for whatever reason he does something w/o checking in— he prolly just forgot. she finds out and confronts him hella pissed (could be at family or during restaurant prep idc) and she says “oh, if carmen said it was cool.” not even carmy the full government name bro 😭. p much how natalie articulated it 🤣. can’t remember the ep but in early season 1 when marcus blew the fuse you can also include slick commentary from richie (and fak) if you’d like! tysm in advance 🥰. also if you don’t me me asking, do you have name/alias on this blog? what we can call you? enjoy your week

- 🥣

yes yes yes ahhhhh! he definitely needs someone who keeps him in line but walks that fine line where he can also keep them in line (bc dom!carmy is living in my heart rent free forever lol). also you can call me e if you'd like :) thank you for your sweet words! i hope you have a good week, and hope you enjoy this!

"What's this?" You ask Sydney, looking at the new box being unloaded from the truck- big and bulky in a crate, far too large to be a produce shipment.

"Uh, I think it's the new glassware for the bar." Sydney looked at her clipboard, back at you carefully.

"Glassware? What new glassware. We haven't picked that out yet." You frowned, looking at the crate carefully.

"Oh, well, it was in Carmen's notes for the day, so... I think that's the only shipment we have. Unless the hostess stand came early, which would be amazing, but you-" Sydney stopped her ramblings, seeing your soured expression. "You know what? Never mind, uh, ignore me. I'm just...Carmen's with Sugar and Richie in the back if you want to ask him."

"Thanks, Syd." You muttered, ripping the bell open with a shrill before bounding towards the back. You could hear them before you saw them, a familiar chorus of chatter and rising voices.

"Hey, so what's the delivery out front?" You ask, not bothering to wait for them to acknowledge you. If you did, you'd never talk, they all talked over each other.

"The new glasses for the bars." Sugar turned, smiling softly at you. "How are you doing?"

"Good." You muttered, eyes cutting to Carmen. "We haven't ordered new glasses yet."

"Uh, well, I thought you liked the ones from last week, angel." Carmen's eyes were bulged, clearly flustered.

"I said I liked them for basics, but I needed you to confirm a drink menu." You glared at him, arms crossing over his chest.

"You can't put the drinks in that?" Carmen asked, hand flying out towards the hall.

"Not if you want the specialty, no." You huffed. "Carmen, I told you to wait just a few days and we could get them at the wholesale market. The textured ones for the signature at least."

"Uh-oh," Richie muttered, snickering to Fak.

"Can you not use the glasses I got?" Carmen sighed.

"I can, but did you get enough? And did we decide if the signature is going in a whiskey glass or a cylinder one? Did you order double of those?" You lifted a brow, taking a step towards him. Richie and Nat watched, heads turning from you and Carmen like a tennis match.

Carmen paused, running a hand down his face. "N-No, but-"

"-So what are you going to do when we open and you run out of drinks, huh? When everyone orders the signature and it comes in different glasses? You think those travel groupie influencers won't notice? Won't post about it and make it a big fucking deal?" You countered.

"Then we'll figure it out!" Carmen huffed. "Look I gave the order to Richie, and-"

"-Hey, no fuckin' way cousin. You gave me your order." Richie held his hand up. "Sweetheart, Carmy said it was good so I just placed the order."

"Well, if Carmen said it was good, then it must be, right? He's the fucking boss." You snarl, glaring at Carmen furiously. "Seems like you've got it under control, Carm, so I'll leave it to you." You turn on your heel, furiously stomping away.

Richie and Fak wait until they hear the slam of the office door, to release their cackles. "Oooh! Cousin, you are in the fuckin' dog house now." Richie laughed, Fak's chorus of barks emphasizing his statement.

"Shut up, ok? Just shut the fuck up." Carmen growled, running a hand through his hair.

"Carmy, why wouldn't you ask her before you ordered? She's your mixologist." Nat sighed, shoulders heavy with disappointment.

"Also your girlfriend." Sydney added, poking her head in. "I told you to wait. Just saying."

"Thank you, alright, thank you all for your fuckin' helpful words." Carmen snapped. "Just... Nat, make sure they get all that shit set up right, ok? Make sure the dishwasher fucking works before we're open, please."

The office door was shut, and Carmen hesitated, reaching for the knob anxiously. He wasn't sure if he should knock- I mean, fuck, this is his office but... you were already so mad at him. Knuckles rapping on the door, he didn't wait for the invite in- knowing he'd never get one.

Carmen found you, sniffling in a furious pout in the corner, body angled away from the door. "Baby-" Carmen started with a sigh, shoulders falling gently at your upset state.

"-Don't." You snap, wiping your eyes. "Don't even start with me, Carmen." The way you say his full name sounds so bitter, too formal and full of malice to be from you.

"I-I'm sorry. I thought we agreed on it, and-and Richie was pressuring me and... And you're right. I shouldn't have made that decision without you, and I'm sorry." Carmen said slowly, waiting for your gaze to meet his, angry, wet, waterline.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." You agreed bitterly, wiping your eyes. "I get this is your restaurant, Carmen, but don't ask for my help if you're just gonna do what you want anyways. That's-That's not nice."

"I know." Carmen nodded slowly, approaching you with the caution he would a wild animal. "I want your help. I do, and-and I like your idea that the house drink goes in the special glass. Makes it stand out."

You lifted your gaze up to his. "Yeah?" You asked, he nodded, sitting next to you. "Did you blow your budget?"

"No," Carmen shook his head, not a total lie. Fak had been able pull some strings with the new stoves, turns out he did have a guy. It left a little over five thousand left over.

"We could go to that place, if you want to. Go look and see if they have the glasses. Get a rough estimate of about how many we'd need." Carmen offered, his hand cupping your thigh gently, thumb rubbing over your leg in soothing circles.

"As long as Sydney or Nat does the numbers and not you." You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes at him.

He laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'll get Sugar to run 'em, alright? Then we can go. Call it an early night."

You beamed at the idea, letting him slide in next to you, melting into your side. "That sounds good." You hummed, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

"I-I'm real sorry I didn't as you ." Carmen muttered. "That was shitty."

"Yeah." You sighed in agreement. "I just... I want to be included in things." You asked, looking up at him sweetly. "Not everything, but-but at least the things that apply to my area."

"I know." Carmen nodded, his hand catching your cheek softly. "I'll let you handle it next time, alright? I trust your opinion."

"You don't have to do that-"

"-No, you're right, I don't. But-But I want to." Carmen nodded. "I know you're lookin' out for the best in this place just like I am."

[elf-kid2]

Modern Witchers

So this contractor drives into this tiny town, way out in the sticks, in the kind of beat-up white van used by many tradesman, and allegedly favored by murderous kidnappers.

He's got white hair that you're not sure is bleached or not, strange eyes short manners. Maybe (probably) he kinda gives you the creeps. White van, stranger-danger, big guy with muscles, and all. Bad vibes.

But you've got a problem, no denying: there's SOMETHING in those woods that doesn't belong there, and recently, when the local boys went to DO something about it... that SOMETHING went from killing livestock, to killing people to. And you know, once those types of creatures get a taste for human blood... best to deal with it sooner, rather than later. Hence, the out-of-town contractor.

Witchers specialize in hunting monsters, after all.

Better to put together a fundraiser to pay the (frankly, outrageous) fees now, then to have to pay all that later, plus the surcharge for beasts that've killed multiple people, plus pulling together the funds for more funerals.

A stitch in time save nine, as the saying goes.

He's got a musician hitchhiking with him, which you weren't expecting. Some hapless hitchhiker with a dufflebag over his shoulder, and a guitar on his back, who got lost on the way to Vegas, or Nashville, or wherever it is starry-eyed musicians go to Make It Big, these days.

Auntie said that any hitchhiker with sense'd be better off walking down a lonely road, instead of getting into a van like that, driven by a man like that. But I guess it takes all kinds of kinds, and that musician hadn't been murdered yet, so make of that what you will.

Anyhow, the musician started busking in the farmer's market-- some decent covers, a few original songs, and some kind of surprisingly catchy jingle for the contractor who'd given him a lift into town. It was pretty good; live music is always a treat when you can get it, and it'd been a while since the last Bluegrass Festival.

He knew how to charm people, work the crowd, how to ask for "donations to the fine arts" without being irritating about it. People dropped cash, and pennies, and quarters, into his open guitar case, at any rate.

I reckon he scraped together at least enough for lunch, form himself'n his friend. Witchers are surly and stingy as anything, y'know, so I wondered why he wasn't covering the meal, with how much he'd charged for slaying the monster...

...But I overheard mention of how he'd had to get that van fixed up at Joe's Auto-Mechanics, over by the old factory in the valley-- and everyone knows that Joe's Auto'll charge three times what the repairs are worth, with parts that cost ten times as much as they oughtta. Lord knows, those scammers'd be out of business, if there were any better options within 50 miles of their shop!

And that is why if you think your truck's getting ready to break down, you should try an' make sure it breaks down closer to home. And also why I figure it makes sense that even a Witcher'd be short on cash, after dealing with 'em.

Anyway, the Witcher spoke with the Sheriff, and he went out monster-hunting that night.

Meanwhile, that hitchhiking musician was playing at the local bar, and let me tell you-- he was pretty damn good! Played a few drinking-songs, and the kind of songs you can't play in front of the kiddos at Farmer's Market, played some catchy tunes that had people dancing and clapping along...!

I particularly enjoyed the murder-ballad about the woman who turned into a vengeful fire-monster when she found out her man was messing around with other women. Very clever wordplay, "flames of desire lighting up your funeral pyre!" Good stuff.

Then the Witcher came in-- fresh from the contract, and half-covered in mud and blood! Barkeep wouldn't even let him sit down until he'd hosed off the worst of it, out back!

Musician-- Jaskier, he called himself-- raised a toast to a successful hunt, and another to monster-hunters who let loving families sleep safely, and rowdy drunks stumble home un-eaten, and soon enough somebody was buying that Witcher a drink, and the barkeep gave him a plate of food on the house, and it was good times all around!

Beats toasting newly-dead friends, and drinking to forget the monsters at the door, any day.

The thing is, this is a small town. Not a lot of people come visit, and if they do, they're generally staying with family. Which is to say, there aren't any motels around here.

Now, that contractor, that Witcher, he'd asked around, beforehand, about what was available, in terms of overnight accomodations-- which, let's be honest, isn't much around here. Come morning, I saw that beat-up van parked outside the Rosebud Bed & Breakfast.

Now Rosebud's is a nice place, a respectable establishment, but we all know they've had some trouble since that big storm last month, when a tree smashed through the roof! Las I checked, that Bed & Breakfast only had the one bed fit for guests to sleep in!

Might've been a rather one-sided bidding war, or a tight fit, with two out-of-towners vying for a roof overhead, that night. But that's none of my business.

Jaskier the musician left town with the Witcher-- Geralt Rivera, I think the name was-- same as he came in. Well, makes sense that he wouldn't want to stay long enough to put down roots, a young musician on a mission to see the world and/or become rich and famous.

The Witcher, Geralt, did good work with the monster, too. I guess that's why they're the experts... Some folks are talking about having what's left of the beasty taxidermy'd, did you know? Might make a decent tourist attraction, or a decoration for Town Hall, or something. I don't know.

Anyway, all that's to say... don't let anybody tell you there's not still a need for Witchers, in the modern day.

[iliumheightnights]

Hometown | Clark Kent x Male!Reader

Fandom: DC Pairing: Clark Kent x Male Reader Summary: Clark takes his boyfriend back to Smallville for the first time. His boyfriend finally gets to meet the Kents.

A/N: Alright, so this might not be my best work, but I still wanted to write SOMETHING while I was stuck in bed. But then again, I’m still a bit out of it so I’m hoping it is a decent story.

~~~

“Next stop, Smallville station.”

M/n looked out the window as the train sped down the tracks. Fields of corn passed by in flashes. He turned his attention away from the window towards his traveling companion next to him. Clark was reading a newspaper they had grabbed before boarding the train.

“So…is it ALL corn fields?”

Clark laughed hearing that. He sat his paper down and looked at M/n. “I can assure you, Kansas is not all corn fields…only most of it and other farm lands.” He laughed and M/n’s face. “But honestly if you go to some of the cities like Wichita or Topeka those are more urban, it's the smaller towns that are farms really. Lucky for you, Smallville isn’t all farms.” M/n raised his brows and nodded. “Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Was this the point that Clark told his boyfriend they’d be STAYING on a farm? He had already known that right? Clark honestly couldn’t remember if M/n knew or not and decided to just let it roll. I mean…they were staying with Ma and Pa and the Kent’s OWNED a farm.

Oh well.

Soon the train pulled into the station and came to a stop. Clark helped M/n with the luggage and carried them. “I can carry mine Clark, it's no problem.” Clark chuckled and shook his head. “I got it. Don’t worry. Besides, this is nothing.” Of course he was referencing his superstrength. To him it really was nothing. M/n also knew it was pointless trying to argue with him and let it go.

The two of them left the station and were greeted by the sight of a rather small town. “Well…this is quaint.” M/n said with a smile. Honestly he didn’t mind the small town, it was a nice change of pace from the hustle of Metropolis.

Soon there was the sound of a horn honking and they watched as a pickup truck pulled into the parking lot. “Clark! Oh Clark!” Once the truck parked a nice older couple jumped out and soon tackled Clark into a tight embrace. Obviously his parents. “Hi Ma. Hi Pa.” He returned their embrace for a while before they broke apart.

Martha then turned her attention towards M/n. Her smile never fading or breaking. “And you must be M/n! Clark has told us so much about you!” She then engulfed M/n in a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She pulled back and that’s when Jonathan walked up. “Pleasure to meet you M/n. Put ‘er there.” He said lifting his hand for a handshake. M/n returned the handshake. “Pleasure to meet you too sir.”

“Alright let’s get you two back to the farm. I bet you two are hungry.” Jonathan helped take the cases from Clark and load them in the truck. Soon all of them were in the truck and on their way back to the farm. As they drove through town Clark and Martha pointed out certain places and landmarks, each with their own story.

“Oh look! M/n that’s the high school where Clark went to. Clark, do you remember that time-” Clark blushed at almost every story Martha told. Most of them embarrassed Clark but M/n absolutely loved hearing about his boyfriend’s life before. “And that’s the farmer’s market stalls, that happens every weekend. Clark used to go with us all the time back in the day. He’d go running off to eat the samples though.” Martha giggled at that. “Ma…”

“What’s that?” M/n pointed to a newer looking building that seemed to be reaching the end of construction. Jonathan seemed to grunt at that. “A new LexCorp office. They bought a couple of farm’s out here for their own. I don’t like it.” M/n looked to Clark who was frowning. He could tell Clark wasn’t liking it either. He’d talk to him about it later.

It wasn’t much longer before they were out of town and going down a gravel road. More cornfields. M/n could tell Clark was looking at him with that smug smile on his face. Soon a large and beautiful farmhouse came into view. The Kent Family Farm. M/n had seen photos of it before but they didn’t do it justice.

Soon the truck was parked and Martha was already booking it to the house. “I’m going to get lunch started for you both!” Clark laughed. “It’s alright Ma! You don’t need to!” Martha only waved him off, she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Clark went to grab the bags with Jonathan. M/n was going to grab his as well but stopped when he heard a dog bark. “WAS THAT A DOG!?” He turned around and soon a blur of white ran across the yard and jumped into his arms. “RUFF!” The dog licked at his face and made M/n laugh. “That’s Krypto. Hey boy! How are you?” Clark rubbed the dog's head. “He missed you.” Jonathan said moving into the house. Clark and M/n followed after him with Krypto trailing behind.

The inside of the Kent’s house was just as beautiful as the outside. The entire place gave a sense of warmth and familiarity. Photos of the family lined the walls and tables. Most were of Clark throughout the stages of his life. M/n looked at each and every one of them. “I sat the bags in your old room, Clark. Figured you’d stay in there.”

“That’s fine, thanks Pa.” Clark moved to place the bags in the room and M/n followed.

Clark’s room…made M/n smile. The room OBVIOUSLY hadn’t been touched since Clark left for Metropolis. Lots of his movie posters were still up with different drawings and fliers. It really did give off the vibe of a high school senior’s room before leaving for college. “So…this was your room?” M/n said with a smile before picking up a photo with a young Clark and some friends. “It’s adorable.”

Clark’s face turned bright red from blushing. He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked sheepish. “Yeah, when I left I never really put anything away. Honestly, I kind of half expected to return rather soon. When I didn't it was a surprise. Guess Ma and Pa didn’t touch a thing. Though now it’s pretty embarrassing.”

“I don’t think so…okay maybe just a bit, but I think that happens to a lot of people.” M/n laughed and planted a kiss to Clark’s cheek. “Now how about you show me around a bit?”

“Gladly.”

Clark showed M/n around the farm. Honestly there wasn’t a lot to really look at. Fields, the barn, some animal pens, and of course the house. But both were enjoying the company of each other as they walked. “There IS some place I’d like to show you though.” Clark said.

He took M/n’s hand and walked him to the back of one of the farm buildings. At first it didn’t seem like anything was there, but then Clark moved one of the panels. “A secret door?” Clark smirked and nodded. “After you.” M/n walked into the hole. He expected to see some sort of farm storage or something but instead saw a nice little hideaway.

“This is my nook. I used to come here a lot when I just needed to get away from things.” Clark said as he sat down on a pillow. M/n looked around the place. It was small and decorated with a blanket and some pillows. A few books and posters were around. “This is cool. Did you make this place?”

“Yes and no. The building is used to store old equipment and things. But I discovered there was this back section that wasn’t being used. So I kind of made it my own.” M/n laughed and sat on another pillow. “Do your parents know about this place?”

Clark chuckled. “Oh I’m sure. You can’t hide anything from Ma. Pa? Sure, but Ma? No way.” 

“Speaking of, we should probably head back. I’m sure lunch is probably done.”

“Yeah and knowing Ma she won’t stop fussing until we eat.”

Clark stood up and helped M/n up. He placed another kiss on his boyfriend’s lips before they left the nook. “I’m glad I got to share this with you.” M/n smiled. “I am too. I like getting to learn more about you.” He held Clark’s hand as they left.

They sealed up the hole before heading back to the house. Something told M/n that this trip was going to tell him a bunch about Clark he didn’t know.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Shuffle With Me, Houston Stranger

From: Handiwork Series

Pairing: Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Curtis keeps a busy life between helping out on the farm and running the garage. There are some moments and places that give him reprieve, though, and one of them happens to be a bar where a certain sweetie works.

Word count: 3,386

Content/warnings: not many, mentions of drinking and alcohol, bar setting, weird vague emotional states, another guy hopelessly head over boots (what else is new, y’all should know this is how I write all my love interests at his point), menacing foreshadowing

Author’s Note: this takes place at the same time as chapters 3, 4, and 5 of YCMBWH and chapter 1 of The Rainmaker. You can technically read it alone, but the other stories help fill in some gaps. Check out the rest of the AU!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Outta Nowhere AU | Series Masterlist | Next >

Curtis walked into the shop with sore shoulders and a slight ache in his heels from a long day of unexpected work and standing. His cousin had called him in to help out with a few chores at the farm since she had to run the Friday farmer’s market, so the day was long and tiresome.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was go through and double check his books for the auto body shop, so he decided against it. Even if he went through everything tonight, it’s not like it would be quality work.

He figured he’d just quickly make sure everything was in its place in the office and the garage to make paperwork easier for him on Monday and work easier for the guys in the morning. Then, he’d be able to join his cousin and her new farmhand at the bar.

Curtis was organizing his socket wrenches by size when he heard a rattling sound become louder behind him. He turned as he sensed it coming closer, seeing an old truck pull into his garage.

He looked down to check his watch. The shop had been long closed by now, and he had places to be. Based off the noise though, he couldn’t deny something was definitely wrong with the vehicle. If Curtis weren’t such a good man, he would’ve turned the patron away, but there was no saying how far a truck that sounded like that could possibly get.

He tilted his head, examining the vehicle and attempting to peer through the glare in the drivers side window when the engine turned off and he saw a pair of old, comfy shoes step down from the cab. His eyes traced up the body before him and Curtis was speechless. Your hair was just tucked under an old ball cap, nothing fancy.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind, I’m not sure what this sound means and was hoping you had time to take a look at my truck. I know you guys are closed, so it’s no rush, but I’d really appreciate it. I’d rather know where my car is than get stranded out in the middle of nowhere.”

Curtis continued to stand there, mesmerized by you until he shook his head back into the present. “Oh, um, sure. I think I have the evening free, so let me just check on a few things real quick and I can take a look at it.”

Curtis pulled out his phone to text his cousin that he wouldn’t make it to the bar tonight.

He stuffed his phone in his back pocket, going to grab a chair from the front office as you followed. “Never good when a truck that old makes a sound like that.”

You nodded along. “Oh trust me, I know. Darn thing’s even older than me. Usually I’m able to figure out the minor stuff, but this is beyond what I know.”

Curtis nodded when he went to set a metal folding chair down by where you had pulled the truck onto one of his lifts. It scraped against the concrete floor, and he was surprised by the way you simply looked at it, as if you were offended that he’d want you to sit down.

“Oh, by the way, I’m Curtis, I own this shop.” The mechanic stuck out his hand, cleaner than you would’ve expected, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you. One of my coworkers actually suggested I come here when the truck started acting up. Said his best friend was the big cheese.”

Curtis laughed. “Um, he used those exact words? Or are those yours? Where are you from?”

You shook your head. “Oh no, sorry, those were my words. I think he just called you the boss, he’s the bouncer at the bar?”

Curtis clicked his tongue as he walked over to the hood of your car, propping it open. “Okay, you’re talking about my buddy, Edgar. Yeah, I’m glad he sent you to me. He works some shifts for me now and then. So you’re new to town? I go to the bar pretty often, I’ve never seen you there.”

You nodded your head tentatively. “Yeah, didn’t think it would be so noticeable I just moved here from Houston, but I’m really from here and there, lived almost everywhere. Been working at the bar for about a week now.”

Curtis nodded as he looked deeper into your engine, testing the tightness of parts and how full each fluid was. “Well how about that. Yeah, we don’t get too many people moving here, but I’m sure it’s a nice change from the city.”

You nodded and hummed, walking over and leaning under the hood of the car with him. “Agreed. I don’t think many mechanics would be this patient with me out there.”

Curtis lightly chuckled as he looked up at you over his shoulder. “Well I’ll be honest with you, patience is one thing, but you probably won’t think I’m very kind when I tell you this truck probably wont survive the next time you take a far journey if you plan to move…”

His small smile was replaced with a grimace. Maybe if he knew you were leaving soon like you seemed to do so often, he could hold himself back more. He could tell himself that there was no point in being attached, being himself for you to see. He’d hold off on the kindness that poured out to everyone he knew and loved, because it would hurt for you to take it and leave.

Your face held a small smile, though, despite his look of worry. “Well what if I planned on staying?”

Curtis looked back into the engine in an attempt to hide the redness in his cheeks. He was warm at the thought of you sticking around. He jiggled the loose part he found, grunting from leaning over so far, before he spoke up, partially avoiding your question.

“Well, you see this right here. I’d replace it and say it would be good for another couple of years.”

You beamed. “That’s good news!”

Curtis stood up to his full height and for the first time, you noticed just how towering his stature was. Anyone else would be intimidated from a distance, but from this proximity, you could see the kindness in his eyes.

“Yes and no.” It came out softer than he had intended. “I’ve gotta make a special order, and it will probably take at least a week to come in. Do you have another way to get to work?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my apartment isn’t too far from the bar. Walking shouldn’t be an issue.”

He looked at you skeptically. “Are you sure? I know you guys have some pretty late shifts.”

“Curtis, I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look.” He sighed in response.

“Alright, if you say so. I’ll put in for that part and in the meantime, your truck can stay here.” He walked over to the workbench and scribbled on a piece of paper, tearing it off and handing it to you.

“Here’s my personal number. In case you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me. I could even set up a ride for you if you change your mind.”

You took the paper, creasing it in the middle and stuffing it in your pocket. “Well, I’ve got a shift tomorrow and I think I might get there on time if I start walking now. Bit of a ways to my place from your shop. Any chance you could drive me home so I can sleep?”

Curtis sighed and checked his watch. “Yeah, I guess so, considering I’m holding your car captive. Come on, I’ll close up and we’ll get you home.”

As you waited for the new car part to be delivered to the shop, you kept working. Bills had to be paid. You had to keep living.

You were surprised the next day at work when Edgar had offered to walk you home after your shift, and every night after then, but didn’t question it. You were just appreciative to have a nice coworker you could trust.

Another surprise was the amount of take out orders that you’d have to give out from the bar. Most of which were going to a certain handsome mechanic.

It was Wednesday night, and the fourth time he’d come to pick up dinner this week. The man must really like cheese curds. You didn’t question it, though, as you handed him his order, asking for updates and waving goodbye with a somber smile as he left too soon, and spoke very little.

What you didn’t know was that Curtis had food at home, sitting in his fridge as he opted for the extra opportunities to see you. You also didn’t know how much he feared opening up his mouth and exposing himself by saying the wrong thing to the first person to make him nervous in a long time. Curtis was generally steady, driven, easygoing, but he could feel that world, that demeanor, start to tilt.

Curtis had a long week. A week much longer than he expected with the extra work he had to do out on the farm instead of in the shop. Sure, he was getting along better and better with Bucky, but that didn’t change the fact that there was too much going wrong.

Cole, that little shit from high school, was back and Curtis’s cousin had gotten stuck in a mine. There was no time for sleep, let alone stopping by the bar with this much of a crisis going on.

As soon as the rocks collapsed in the mine, Curtis was freaking out. “We have to call the police, the fire department, someone to get her out of there. She might not be injured now, but I can’t say the same if there’s a secondary collapse. We need to do something. Now.”

Bucky grabbed him by his collar. “No. No police. It’ll ruin everything.”

Curtis put his hands up in surrender. “Okay then, what do you suppose we do, big guy?”

Bucky paced back and forth, biting his thumbnail with worry. “Gimme a second. I’m figuring it out.” He stopped in his tracks. “Who all knows about the mines?”

“What? What does that ha-“

Bucky cut Curtis off. “Who. All. Knows?”

Curtis shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know, not many people. Me and her, her college roommate, and Jake. That’s it, I think.”

Bucky rapidly reached into the pocket of his jeans and handed Curtis a card from his wallet. “This is my associate Sam. You’re going to call him and tell him those names. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Curtis immediately pulled out his phone, trusting the judgement of his new friend. He called Sam, telling him everything he could about those who were close enough to have heard of the mines. After that, he got to work.

He assessed what all would need done in the next day and did as many small tasks as he could, staying up until he could greet the helpers on the way.

All Curtis wanted to do was sleep, this was taking a toll on him, but he did his best to not let it show, to not become a grump. He just put his head down and made himself useful while Bucky waited back at the mine. At the first available opportunity, he was going to drop into a bed and nap. This week was stretching him thin.

Meanwhile, you continued to work at the bar. After seeing him for several days in a row, it was concerning that Curtis seemingly fell off the face of the Earth. Surely that wasn’t your business, though. Maybe it was just a coincidence he was ordering food so often before. He had better places to be, like work, or maybe on a date.

Why would you care, though? He was just the nice guy fixing your car. There was no way he was going out of his way to visit; probably just had some late nights at the shop and that’s why he picked up dinner, not to see you. Anyway, work was always busy enough for your mind to be occupied. You’d at least see him again hopefully once that coveted car part came in.

After a much easier Saturday at the farm, Curtis was ready to have a nice, relaxing time at the bar. As the crew he came with went inside, he hung back to talk to Edgar. He clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

Edgar patted him back. “Good, I’m good. Been walking your girl home like you asked. She’s working tonight.” A smirk crept onto his face as Curtis looked down.

“But besides that, what’s going on with you?”

Curtis sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He turned a picture of Cole Turner towards Edgar.

“Um, I’m alright. A little stressed, but I’m hoping you can help. I’ve got something for you.”

Edgar looked up from the piece of paper. “What’s this?”

“Someone who we need to make sure stays out of here. And if you see him, you let me know, okay?”

Edgar nodded. “Sure thing. Have fun with your girl.”

Curtis rolled his eyes and walked through the door to catch up with everyone else.

You were pouring out drinks for the group that came in when a familiar tall, broad form approached from the doorway. You took in the way his shoulders pushed at the flannel fabric of his shirt as he sauntered into the room. You couldn’t help the way the smile already on your face grew to see him again.

“Oh hey, if it isn’t the big cheese.” He laughed at the nickname, shaking his head as he moved to take a seat at the bar.

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t been in for awhile. Had some family matters to attend to. Speaking of which, that’s them over there.” He gestured toward the group who had just ordered food and drinks from you before heading towards the booths on the far side of the room.

“Ah! Okay, in that case, this is for you.” You grabbed a short rocks glass from the lower counter in front of you and set it up on the bar top in front of Curtis. The glass made a small thud against the finished wood as you looked at him.

Curtis tentatively grabbed it and sipped. After swallowing he hummed.

“Sweet. Like a cherry.”

You nodded. “Oh yeah. That’s because it’s got extra cherries. Your buddies over there said you’d drink whatever, so I made you my favorite.”

Curtis lowered the glass and looked at you deeply with his warm, burning sapphire eyes. His voice grew low and raspy. “I wasn’t talking about the drink.”

He winked at you and you had no idea how your legs didn’t fail you right then. You were able to quickly recover, though, shooting a remark right back.

“Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you test that conjecture.” You could see his cheeks grow warm at the suggestive statement. You grabbed your rag and threw it over your shoulder, leaning closer to the towering man who was just confident, now evidently bashful.

“Curtis, are you…blushing?”

His eyebrows were quick to arch as his attempt of a scowl failed to break through past a shy smile. “No! Blushing is fake. It doesn’t exist. That’s just an old wives tale.”

You looked at his skeptically, not even attempting to hide the laugh that burst out. “What do you mean you think it’s fake? You’re so red right now.”

Curtis’s eyes shifted around the room, unsure of how to respond. “I just feel really…warm…when I look at you.” He muttered so low you could barely hear it.

You wanted to keep pushing before his embarrassment made him turn away from you.

“Hey listen, I’ll be back. I’ve gotta check in with the group, but keep this stool saved for me?”

You nodded. “Sure thing.”

As soon as Curtis returned, he was glued to his chair. He spent the entire evening chatting with you, asking about your life, and telling you about his on the farm and at the shop.

You were honestly grateful for the one bit of peace on a busy bar Saturday night. Every chance you got, you were leaning against the counter by him to take a breath, watching his friends ride the bull and dance together. What a group of great people.

“So, have you been able to make it home alright this week? I’m sorry that truck part still hasn’t come in yet.”

You nodded as you poured a line of shots for a group of girls waiting on the corner. “Yeah, it hasn’t really been a problem. Edgar’s been insistent on walking me to my door, which helps me feel better when it’s that dark out. Just makes me feel bad, though, because I think I finish a little later than his shift time is supposed to be.”

“Well that’s nice of him. If you want, I can drive you home tonight. Might take some of that load off if you’re worried.” Curtis’s eyes watched you slide the shots to the patrons as you came back to his seat and sighed.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you staying here later than you have to, either. It’s really okay. I can definitely take care of myself.”

Curtis shrugged. “I don’t doubt that at all, Cherry. But I’m offering. And I’d be a fool to prematurely end one of the best nights I’ve had in awhile. I really don’t mind.”

“Okay, then. Sounds like a plan.”

As the night was winding down, and Curtis’s group had already come over to close out the tab, the two of you watched the remaining people prepare to head out. Who was Curtis that he knew someone with a black card? Supposedly they were business associates of the farm. Was farming really that lucrative? You guessed so.

You rejoined the present as the last few slow songs came on the juke box and Curtis held out his hand.

“You know how to dance?”

You scoffed, “Curtis, I’m still working. But yes, do you think I could’ve gotten by all this time without a little bit of knowledge?”

He shook his head. “I would’ve been worried if you did. Come on, there’s hardly anyone left. Shuffle with me, you little Houston stranger.”

You sidestepped the bar and walked out the small half door to join Curtis on the dance floor, holding both his hands and looking up into his eyes. “I’d say we’re hardly strangers now. You don’t learn nothing after hours of talking like that.”

You began to swing to the twangy music, holding each other close. Curtis twirled you and pulled you into his chest where your ear could hear his racing heart. The warmth and the scent of his cologne were comforting. His arms blanketing you, shielding you from all other thoughts besides this moment. As the song faded out, you realized you two were the only ones left besides the other employees doing the final tidying up before shutting down for the night. You reluctantly pulled your body from Curtis, left only holding each other’s hands.

“I should probably go help with the closing duties. Can you wait for me by the door?”

Curtis nodded. “Of course. I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Curtis watched you go back to your cash register as he walked back towards Edgar, keeping an eye on you the whole time.

“So, anything interesting happen tonight?”

Edgar nodded with with wide eyes. “Um, yeah. That guy you gave me a picture of, he came by. Threw a fit when I wouldn’t let him in. Some dude in fancy clothes and a mustache was with him, too. Not sure what that was about, but they at least respected the badge.”

Curtis huffed and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

This was not good. Curtis pulled out his phone and texted Bucky.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Tbh, even I don’t know where this story is gonna go, but I love Curtis a lot and will need some time to find a niche plot that will do him some justice.

I hope you enjoyed. Comments, reblogs, and likes are sooooo appreciated.

[jungle-angel]

The Greatest Pumpkin Ever Picked (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: It's almost spooky season and you and Bob let Auggie go nuts to try and find the perfect pumpkin

Bozeman, MT

October, 2023

"Never saw a kid so excited to pick out a pumpkin," Joe chuckled as he and Bob slowly trailed behind Auggie, letting him run through the rows and rows of pumpkins in the field behind the farmers' market.

"It's all he talked about all week at school," Bob answered. "Kay, his teacher, was telling me about how they were planning to take the kindergarteners pumpkin picking when I went to go get him."

"Better to do it with the family first," Joe mused.

"Daddy! Daddy! I found it! I found my pumpkin!" Auggie shouted proudly.

"Show me where bud."

Auggie led his father and grandfather to the further end of the field where he pointed proudly to the pumpkin he had claimed as his own. It was huge, a gigantic orange monster that stood in the middle of the field, bigger than all the rest and much bigger than Auggie.

"Holy shit," Bob groaned.

Joe laughed at his son's exasperation. "Hey, the ghoul wants what the ghoul wants."

"Dad, there's no way we're gonna get that monstrosity in the back of the truck," Bob pointed out. "We're gonna need a crane just to lift it."

"Do you not remember what we did when you were that little?" Joe chuckled.

Bob searched his memory for any answer to his father's question until something sparked to life in the back of his mind. "You mean....?"

"Yep," Joe answered.

"How are we gonna do it?"

"Leave that to me."

Bob and Auggie waited patiently for Joe to return, paying for the pumpkin at the front end stall. Finally, Joe came back with the truck, parking it at the bottom of the hill that was just a little bit steeper than Bob had anticipated.

"Alright, lets get that sucker rolled in!" Joe announced.

"We gonna do the Charlie Brown thing Daddy?" Auggie chirped.

"Yep," Bob answered.

Bob helped get Auggie started and once the pumpkin rolled a little bit, Auggie began guiding the pumpkin, rolling it down the hill and running beside it as it picked up speed. He giggled the whole way down as Bob took a video on his phone, laughing at the sight of his meekly framed, bespectacled little mini-me running beside the monstrous pumpkin.

At last the steepness of the hill gave way to the truck bed where the pumpkin landed with tremendous force. The whole truck bobbed up and down like an old low-rider as the huge pumpkin came to rest perfectly in the bed.

"Well that was alot easier than we thought," Joe remarked.

"I just hope the shocks on the truck are ok," Bob told him.

Bob loaded Auggie into his carseat and buckled him in before he and Joe took off with the pumpkin in tow. As soon as the two of them pulled up the long driveway to the house and parked, Bob lifted a yawning Auggie out of the truck and carried him into the house.

"Woah that's one hell of a pumpkin!" you exclaimed, meeting your husband at the door.

"And one sleepy kid," Bob replied, kissing you on the lips. "I'm gonna go put him upstairs for a nap, he's exhausted."

"You do that, I'll set his lunch aside for when he wakes up."

Up to the bedroom Bob went, placing Auggie in his bed and covering him first with the duvet and then his Pinocchio blanket that had warmed him as a baby. Bob tucked the sage green and white crocheted blanket and Auggie's soft Dumbo stuffie in beside him before turning on the little fairy lights in the dark room.

Bob made his way back downstairs, following the smell of the savory lunch you had made while the skies had darkened outside. "You doin ok sweet pea?" he asked, pulling you in and kissing you.

"Now that I can walk around a little bit," you answered. "Princess wasn't really letting me sleep much, but other than that, I'm alright."

"Where's Patrick?"

"He's upstairs, asleep in his room," you answered. "Guess the pumpkin picking tired Auggie out."

"Ran the thing down the hill until he got to the truck," Bob chuckled.

You laughed as the image popped into your mind of little Auggie running after the pumpkin. "You think he'll wake up and we can carve it later?"

"We'll see," Bob answered. "I don't know if we'll be able to fit it in the house though."

You relaxed in his arms, the baby girl in your belly finally settling down long enough to relax herself. You couldn't wait to carve the pumpkin and see Auggie's little face light up at the sight of the future jack-o-lantern that would soon decorate the farm.