#big construction trucks

[dimalink]

A big and powerful machine. It stands near the house. Someone can go with this car, maybe. To a supermarket, u know. It is a joke. Yes, a building machines, of course, they are a titanic things.

Such a big machines. Symbol of industrial era. Maybe, it can be placed there a computers. Maybe. And this is, already, a symbol of computer era. Everyplace – a computer.

Steel monster. I remember game Monster Truck, Madness Monster Truck about racing with a big cars. Sorry, but I play a little into it. But I remember that game.

Such a tractor can dig and build something on the Moon! I think so! A moon builder! It digs a moon dust. On a grey moon. And it has a black sky. It is calm everywhere. And this is sci fi.

[aleatoryw]

I was having some big feelings the other day

[agdab]

almost got in a huge highway accident this morning lol

[tropiyas]

please tell me someone else played this

[rainintheevening]

REMINDER / PSA

🦺🚧🦺🚧🦺🚧🦺🚧🦺🚧🦺

Road work and construction season is in full swing, and I have seen so many near accidents and so much impatient stupidity lately, I feel compelled to remind everyone of a few important things.

When approaching areas with road work, PAY ATTENTION. Put down your darn phone, read signs, look AHEAD.

Do not suddenly make lane changes or u-turns. Check all your blind spots, make your decision, and do it confidently, but not hastily.

KEEP YOUR TEMPER. Anger and impatience never help you get there quicker. They just improve your chances of an accident. Which will make you late.

Always try to plan ahead for traffic slowdowns, and look at maps/GPS to learn alternate routes. Yes, routes, know more than one. Bypasses can get clogged with traffic trying to avoid the construction, and knowing more than one improves your chances of a shorter drive.

DO NOT BLOCK INTERSECTIONS. I don't care how much better you feel by being 30 feet further up the line, it is ILLEGAL. DO NOT BLOCK INTERSECTIONS, no matter how long you have to sit there, no matter how many times the light changes, or how impatient people seem, do not enter an intersection unless there is room for you to safely exit it as well. Blocking intersections gains you nothing, and makes other people suffer. Don't be 'that jerk'.

Same thing with railway tracks. DO NOT SIT ON TRAIN TRACKS. This is also illegal and dangerous. Do not drive over tracks unless there is space for you get off them completely, preferably with more than six feet between your back bumper and the closest rail.

Be very aware of semis/tractor trailers, make space for them, look for their signals. Respect them. Be patient with them. Never play stupid with a semi.

Drive carefully in constructions zones, watch for the workers and machinery. Do what you are told, go where you're directed, respect the people you will eventually thank, once you get to whip along that nice fresh strip of pavement.

Remember: it's folks in air-conditioned offices you have to blame, if you don't like what's being done. The folks mucking around in the hot summer sun? They are just trying to make a living by the strength of their backs and the sweat of their brows. Trying to put food on their tables. Don't go hollering at them.

BE KIND. Be courteous. Let people in ahead of you, wave to thank people who let you in. These are the moments when we show who we really want to be.

Breathe slowly, roll your windows down, play your music, talk to the people in the car, PAY ATTENTION to your surroundings. You'll get there eventually. Get there in one piece, okay?

[strawberrypoundtown]

Alright, hear me out I am thinking... Werebear. I just can't get my mind off of the idea of a werebear with his little round ears and fuzzy tail who gets disturbed while trying to hibernate (Which he's admittedly not very good at)

That's it, take it and run girly~

(OH it's just a quick one shot- sike, this was a lot longer than I planned and I had to cut some of it for another time lol I should have made it two parts, but whatevs

Enjoy the show - Strawberry 🍓)

Dummies Guide To Hibernation

Clayton Briggs x Fem!Reader

You move into a new apartment complex and notice your next-door neighbor being a lot more secluded and withdrawn lately as the winter creeps in. One late night, as you're walking through the hall to your door, you notice the door to his apartment is wide open...

Contains: unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, light free use kink (?)

You had moved into this apartment complex just shy of 3 months ago. You were still getting your bearings, having not lived completely alone before. You always had roommates or family living with you, so finally being completely alone was strange. Your apartment complex wasn't very big. There were only two other apartments on your side of the hall, yours sandwiched between the two.

The older werewolf woman that lived on your right seemed to be pretty calm and quiet, albeit a bit paranoid. She looked to be about 40-50 years old, but could have been older. You hadn't seen her leave the complex property before, so you just chalked it up to her being a bit of a recluse. You occasionally grab her mail for her when she asks, and she's always grateful, giving you a handful of candy before sending you on your way.

The man that lived on your left was a very different story. You two had met late at night when he offered to help you move a very large chair that you had bought a few days after you moved in. You were struggling to get it into the elevator after regretting that you had ordered the orc size for the chair and not werewolf of something. Damn you and your enjoyment of large furniture.

A large, burly man with a bushy brown beard had appeared behind you during your struggle. His curly golden brown hair was short and messy. He seemed to be around a staggering 7'3" tall, easily towering over you. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, steel-toe workboots, and a reflective vest that people used on construction sites. Of course, you assumed that he just got off of work and was getting impatient with you hogging the only elevator. You were about to apologize for being in his way and try to get the chair out of the way when he put his massive hand on your forehead, gently moving you out of the way. With a faint grunt, he easily moves the chair into the elevator. He stands in the elevator with the chair next to him and enough space for you to stand next to him. He holds the elevator door open for you as he stares at you. He notices you hesitating and looks away from you, his dirt covered cheeks turning a bit red as he looked away from you. He was still waiting for you.

"O-oh. Thank you." You said softly with a smile as you looked up at him and stepped into the elevator. You clicked the button for your floor, and he nodded in response as he moved his arm, letting the door close. "You must be one of my neighbors. I just moved in about a week ago. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He let out another grunt as he nodded once again, only glancing at your occasionally as he avoided touching you in the cramped elevator. Saying he was a large man as an understatement. You had to strain your neck to look up at him, but looking at eye level or lower was even worse. He was built like a truck with a nice layer of chubbiness. He seemed so soft, so nice to hug. You just wanted him to pick you up and hold you. It was hard to focus on anything but him as his chest was only inches away from your face. You could tell that he had a very strong build, and you love a large dad bod. He was covered in dirt and sweat, but his scent was still a bit too nice for your comfort.

As the elevator doors opened, you found yourself trying to scramble out the door and out of the way as quickly as possible. You had let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm your racing heart as he lifted the chair out of the elevator with ease. He immediately started walking towards your door.

You quickly got out your keys and jogged down the hall to open your door. He moved quickly, so he was already at your door by the time you got there. Once your door was open, you led him inside your cozy apartment and towards your livingroom. As he stepped inside, he was surprised at the decore you already had up. Pictures and posters and a few fake plants with fairy lights pinned to the ceiling.

After he put down the chair where you told him to, he noticed the rest of your furniture. It was all fairly large, at least the size for most werewolves, but all covered in pillows and blankets to make it cozy. He felt like just looking at your apartment would make him fall asleep. He needed to leave. Your heart sank a bit, following him as he immediately turned to walk towards the front door.

"Thank you for your help! I don't know what I would have done if you didn't help me. I'm sorry I bothered you on your way home-" You say, but he cuts you off by holding out his hand to you to shake. You take it gently, and he begins to speak.

"Don't worry about it. If you ever need help with anything, I live next door on your left. Apartment 400. I'm pretty handy." He says softly as he looks down at you with a blank expression. His voice was deep and intimidating, but it made you feel safe and warm. His hand was big and rough, but he held your soft hand so gently, like he was worried about hurting you.

"Oh, thank you. I really appreciate that. Um... could I get your name? My name is (Y/n)." You say with a smile, staring up at him as your other hand comes up to rest on top of his. His cheeks turn a bit red once again as he stares at your hands for a moment before looking back into your eyes.

"I-I'm Clayton..." He says shyly before pulling his hand away and taking a step back. "It was nice to meet you (Y/n). I need to go." He said bluntly, his eyes avoiding yours as he rushed off to his apartment door. For such a large man, he sure was quick. You didn't even have a chance to say anything before you heard his door slam shut. You worried you angered him, but based on his pink cheeks, you assumed that he was just shy.

Over the next month, you would start conversations with him whenever you would see him. He would always stand and listen until you were done talking. Occasionally, you would mention that you were trying to do something in your apartment and would ask what kind of tools you would need. He would tell you, seemingly happy that he could give you advice. However, he never seemed to let you take his advice, because before you could even get the tools you needed, he would be over with his toolbox ready to go.

Need a shelf put up? He did it. Need your sink unclogged? No problem. He got it cleared. Need your lock replaced because your ex found out where you lived? He replaced your entire door and got you a doorbell camera.

He never accepted any money from you, always saying he just wanted to be a good neighbor and make sure you were safe. He did, however, accept food. You always made him a big plate of whatever you were eating that night. He always seemed to enjoy it after he got home, the plates returning to your front door completely clean the next morning.

However, as the fall passed and the winter started, you saw Clayton less and less. Whenever you would see him, he'd look absolutely exhausted, and you had noticed him getting thinner. He also started to occasionally walk around with his cute stubby tail and round ears out due to how little energy he had. You had found out from your other neighbor that Clayton was a werebear, so the winter season made him exhausted all the time. You felt bad for asking for so much of his time while he should have been preparing for hibernation, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he was eating enough.

Every day, you brought a container of food over to his door and left it in front of his door. You would leave a note on the container before knocking and running off so you didn't bother him further. The clean, empty containers would show up in front of your door the next day with a note that just said 'thank you'.

What you didn't know was how much it actually meant to him that you had been helping him in return. He had always struggled with his hibernation, having been raised by a pack of werewolves after his parents adopted him. They did their best, but he was never really taught how to hibernate properly. It didn't help that he had insomnia, which was very inconvenient for the big guy when it came to his hibernation time. Thankfully, during the winter, his construction jobs slowed down a bit, but it still took a lot out of him. Cooking himself dinner at the end of a long day was out of the question, so he usually got take out or nothing at all.

Imagine his surprise when he started getting food dropped off at his door every night. He loved your food. Everything you made was delicious, and he always licked his plate clean. You were so sweet with how you helped take care of him. The smell of the fantastic food you cooked flooding the hallway was amazing, but your scent had him even more entranced.

Ever since you had moved next door, just your scent from the hallway was enough to comfort him. He had already thought you were cute when you moved in, but as time went on, he fell for you even harder. Your more domestic side showing lately had been the killer for him, though. You would check in on him and give him food, a reassuring touch, like the angel you were. He wanted to help take care of you like you took care of him. He wanted you. He needed you. He always had such a hard time leaving your apartment because of how cozy it was. The moment he would walk in, he would feel like he could pass out on the floor and still be comfortable. He wished he could sleep in your orc sized bed with you and show you how much he cares about you.

He would listen unintentionally as you would take a shower or get ready for bed. The walls were so thin, and with his hearing as good as it was, it was impossible for him to ignore your whimpers from the other side of the wall whenever you'd be masturbating. Whenever he had gone in to help you put up a shelf in your bedroom, he could smell the arousal in the air from when you had given yourself an orgasm shortly before he arrived. He struggled to hide his erection the whole time. Just imagining what you did to yourself when you were alone made his dick throb in his jeans. Being able to smell that you were ovulating didn't help.

He knew what everything meant. You were his mate. He just had no idea how to tell you without sounding completely insane. You were just a human. A very soft, sweet human that surely only had the best intentions whenever they would interact. If only he knew how further he was from the truth. You had wanted him just as badly, if not more, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He just seemed shy to you, and you didn't want to scare him off. For such a big guy like him, you had hoped food would win him over. Every time you had him over to help fix something you didn't understand, you would fantasize about him driving his cock into you and letting out all his pent-up frustrations. And cum.

Once you found out he was a werebear, you did some serious research. You learned about how he needed a cozy environment he could use as a 'den' and how much he needed to eat. Werebears didn't sleep 24 hours a day, but they needed at least 10-14 hours of sleep every night to function somewhat normally during the day. They tend to need to eat a lot to keep up a healthy layer of fat. They can also get very, very backed up if they don't have a mate to hibernate with as they typically don't socialize during this time. You didn't know what his apartment looked like, as he had never invited you over, but you wanted to make your home as inviting to him as possible for when he came over. Especially your bedroom.

You were happy you rented in a monster-friendly apartment building due to the fact that you had an orc sized bed from the last place you lived in. It was at least 9' long, and you were always swimming in it, so you always had it loaded with pillows and stuffed animals and soft blankets. You figured that if you got some extra large blankets for him to use, he would be more inclined to come over.

But lately, he was so tired he had let his ears and tail show, his arms and chest extra hairy as it peaked out of his clothing. He was trying to conserve energy, and you noticed him not snoring much at night when he should have been sleeping, but still going to work in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. You also noticed that as the next full moon approached, he was struggling more and more to hold it together. He was nearly falling asleep standing up and more shuffled than walked to his apartment. You started making more and more food for him to leave by his door for when he got home.

Tonight was a full moon, so you knew you had to make him a lot of food because he was going to fully tranform tonight. The containers had started coming back broken with apology notes and money attached, so tonight you had gotten some disposable containers. You made him a huge spread of various roasted vegetables and fish and put all the containers in front of his door, saying that if he needed to, he could crash at your place.

That leads you to this moment, you standing outside Clayton's door. You heard him stumble home about 20 minutes ago and growling for about 15 minutes until a loud thud hit the floor. It shook your apartment, and you instantly rushed over to see if he was okay. You noticed the door was cracked open and hesitantly pushed the door open. Your jaw dropped as you saw his living conditions. It was clean, but barely had any furniture to keep clean in the first place. All he had was a large futon in the livingroom and a TV with a gaming set up.

You hear groaning coming from what you assume to be the bedroom as you carefully creep in. You peer down the hallway to see a large furry mass in the dark. A mess of ripped apart food containers were scattered down the hallway to in front of the bed. You gingerly made your way down the hallway as you tried to get a better look at him. You could tell he was already fully transformed, and it almost sounded like he was... whining? As you got closer, you noticed that he was so big half his giant furry body was hanging off the bed. He was facing away from you, but you could hear him panting and whining as his nubby tail wiggled. He was a giant ball of fur and you slowly walked up to his face. His head was huge when he was transformed. He looked like an adorable grizzlybear, minus the giant sharp claws.

"C-clayton?" His eyes snap open at the sound of your voice. Your sweet, beautiful voice. "Are you okay?... I heard a loud thud, and your door was open..." You were so kind. He couldn't believe you actually walked in here to check on him. He didn't know what to do. He was embarrassed at how his place looked. He had been so tired lately he hadn't wanted to do anything special for his hibernation, but he was regretting it now.

He bashfully looks away from you and scoots his head closer to you. You crouch down and gently run your fingers through his fur. His fur was so soft you gently rest you head on top of his as she scratched the fur around his neck. He lets out an odd growl that almost sounds like a purr as he nuzzles into your chest. He inhales your comforting scent deeply. You smell so sweet... He had to carefully pull his face away from your chest before he tried to rip your tank top off. He had noticed you weren't wearing a bra and wanted to know what your breast looked like so badly. He caught himself staring at your chest before looking up at you with his beautiful golden eyes.

"C-can I crash with you? Please?... this is bad..." His voice was hoarse as he groaned. He regret pushing his body so much and ignoring his need for a proper den. He knew your place would be perfect based on what he had seen so far. Not only that, but he would be able to convince you to share your large bed with him. It had been so long since he could cuddle anyone during hibernation...

"Of course you can. I just need you to follow me." You said softly, and you went to stand up. He stood up with you, and you couldn't help but freeze for a moment as you took in his large form. He was nearly 9' tall, staring down at you as he breathed heavily. All he had on were some boxers that were way too small once he was transformed. You could see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric. He put one of his giant hands on your shoulder and sleepily followed you next door to your apartment, being sure to at least close his door before he leaves.

Upon stepping into your apartment, he has to use his hands on your wall to stabilize himself. Walking through the threshold of your home and being hit with a wall of your scent was overwhelming. He stumbled through your apartment as carefully as possible, trying not to knock anything over. You had to guide him to your bedroom, him ducking a bit through the doorways. As he saw your bed, he let out a sigh of relief. The mass of pillows and giant blankets looked so welcoming.

"I-I hope it'll be okay. At least better than your place..." You let out a soft giggle as you opened up the bed more for him to crawl in. He didn't waste another moment before carefully crawling onto your bed. The bed dipped under his immense weight. You thanked yourself for getting a reinforced bedframe when you got your giant bed.

"Oh fuck." He groaned out as he fully laid down, his body going limp as he finally felt his body fully relax for the first time in ages. Fully stretched out, he's just as tall as the bed, but all the pillows and blankets with the softness of the mattress are perfect. He feels like he's in heaven as he turns onto his side and closes his eyes. His breathing began to get heavier, and you assume he's already starting to fall asleep. You grab the biggest blanket you have from your couch and as you lay it over him, his eyes slowly open. He stares at you for a moment as your body is illuminated in the moonlight peering in from your window. He hadn't really gotten a good look at you yet, and it was a good thing that he didn't. He wouldn't have been able to make it over to your apartment if he noticed you were only wearing a tanktop and tight boxer shorts. He could already feel himself getting hard under the covers, your scent overwhelming as he let out a soft groan.

"Clayton? Are you okay?" You ask with a worried tone. Your caring eyes are so beautiful in the moonlight. In a flash, you were pulled under him while letting out a loud yelp. He was proped up on his elbow on his side next to you, his other hand on your hip as he leaned over you. He held your body so close to his, trying his best not to rip your clothes off of you immediately. He leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck so all he can smell is you. He was annoyed at how your scent was so comforting but wouldn't let him sleep. He was pent-up, and you were his mate that made a den just for him... he needed to do something or he felt like he was gonna explode.

He moved one of his knees in between yours as he stared into your eyes, running his hand from your hip to your thigh to guide it to hook over his leg. Goosebumps appear all over your body as you feel his sharp claws drag across your skin. As you were held there on your back, you could feel his hard cock against your thigh. Fuck you were turned on. You didn't know what to do but stare back into his glowing eyes and follow his lead. He leaned in close to your face, bearing his sharp teeth as he struggles to find his words.

"I really need your help tonight (Y/n)..." He mumbles as he moves from smelling your hair to burying his nose in your collarbone.

"Look, I'm flattered... v-very flattered, but I'm not really a fan of one night stands." You say nervously, knowing that you'd want way more than just one night with him. His large, rough tongue rakes up the side of your neck, making you let out an involuntary moan.

"Who said I wanted a one night stand?" His hot breath brushes against your neck, causing goosebumps to go down your body. "I want you.. All of you... Always." His teeth ran across the skin in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply. "If you want me, I'll stay... please..." He pleads with a deep growl. He sounds so desperate for you. You wouldn't have thought the stoic man next door would be reduced to a horny, cuddly mess, but here you are. "My mate..." He growls as he palms one of your breasts through your thin tank top, careful not to scratch you with his claws. The pressure of his body against yours is overwhelming in the best way, every touch lighting you on fire as you couldn't help but let out soft moans.

"P-please stay Clayton..." You begged as your self-control went out the window, grinding your hot mound against his leg. Your words and actions made him suck in a breath, pausing as he stared at you. He suddenly turned onto his back, pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist. He used his claws to rip a huge hole in your shorts, exposing your dripping wet pussy. You pulled your tanktop off quickly before he ripped that off while he ripped away his boxers. His massive cock sprang to life, smacking against your wet pussy lips softly. He pulled himself up to bring you in for a kiss, groaning as he

You bit your lip before grinding your cunt down along his dick. It was too dark for you to see properly, but his dick felt similar to a werewolf's dick, but much bigger. You hadn't taken someone that big before, so you were secretly happy that you were in the middle of masturbating when you heard him come home...

"Oh fuck." He strained his head back against the bed as he moaned. His hands reached up to hold your hips in place, rolling his hips back against you to get more friction against his sensitive cock. His hands were massive, both of them nearly completely encircling your waist as he held you in place. He fought against the urge to use you like a living fleshlight immediately. He felt like he was getting high off the scent of your arousal.

You brace your hands on his soft forearms as you find your footing by his sides. His waist is too big for you to straddle normally, but you don't care. You're gonna do your best. You were getting impatient, as he could feel from how his cock was completely drenched from your juices. He raises his head up to look at you, letting out soft whimpers as you pull your heat away from his needy dick. You earn a low growl from him as you decided to grab his cock and line his dripping tip up with your aching hole. His grip on your hips tightens, and you feel his claws threaten to break your soft skin. He applauded his self control in his crazed state, although every fiber of his being was telling him to just bury his cock deep inside you now. He needed you so badly.

You press yourself down on his dick, your arousal and his precum acting as lube. His cock slides into your pussy easier than he expected, but you're still struggling to take his size. His cock was so thick it stretched your pussy to the absolute limit and you were loving every second. You had only taken him about halfway, and yiu didn'tknow how much more you could take. You were trying to hold your moans as much as possible, but the attempt was futile. You groaned out in pleasure as the shape of his cock rubbed against your g-spot with every movement.

Clayton stared at you hungrily, growl in his throat that resonated through his whole body. You could swear you felt his dick vibrate, but then again, it might have been your walls fluttering to accommodate his size.

He suddenly snaps his hips up into yours, his hands on your hips keeping you in place as he buries his cock into you up to his knot. The drastic shock to your body made you scream out in pleasure. Your pussy stung as you felt the bulge at the base of his cock press against your pussy. You feel him shudder under you as you clenched your pussy around his length. You're given very little time to adjust before he starts moving your hips for you.

"F-fuck, I'm sorry... I can't control myself right now... you drive me fucking crazy... you're so fucking tight..." He growls as he watches your boobs bounce in front of him. He may have you on top, but he's the one in control. He holds your hips so firmly it may leave bruises, using your body as his personal sex toy. He is so desperate to cum, wanting nothing more than to fill you up and get you pregnant.

He wanted you to be the mom to his cubs. You were so sweet and kind. You could teach them how to make a den much better than he could. You felt so amazing stretched out on his dick. You were just so addicting.

Every movement he made you do made you feel just as crazy as him. His cock hit all the right places, your pussy quivering around him as you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Every slight curve and bend of his dick felt like heaven as he bounced you faster to chase his own release.

"I'm so close. I'm not pulling out. I want you to take my knot and have my cub..." He grunts, whimpering as you feel his dick twitch inside you. He's close, and so are you.

"Y-yes please! I want your cum in me, please! Make me cum!" You beg him, completely giving into the pleasure. You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close it almost hurt.

"Rub your clit for me, honey." He orders and you don't think twice before one of your hands finds your clit, your fingers working your sensitive clit while he works you. It only takes a few more seconds before you throw your head back, moaning like a bitch in heat as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. As you begin to cum, he snaps his hips up to meet yours, thrusting his huge knot into your already strained pussy. The rough action causes you to scream, squirting all over his crotch as your quivering pussy milked his cock. His dick throbbed inside you as he let out a roar, his claws scratching your hips while he came deeper than anyone had before. He filled your plugged up pussy so much your belly bulged slightly. You both struggle to catch your breath as his grip on you slowly relaxed. He couldn't help but stare at you and your beautiful body, your sweat shining in the moonlight through the window.

"I hope you're okay... I didn't hurt you, did I?" He groans out, a bit worried that in his haze he went too far. Your exhausted giggle eases him slightly.

"I'm more than okay..." You admit with a grin. Clayton chuckles in response as he feels his knot start to go down, letting him slip his cock out of you. You whimper and whine as he pulls his cock out, suddenly feeling every empty as his cum pours out of your used hole. He lets out a relieved sigh as he turns onto his side and pulls you close to him.

"I'm glad you're okay..." He whispers to you as he stares into your eyes with adoration mixed with exhaustion. You can't help but smile as his large body and thick fur make you feel like you have a living weighted blanket. His presence was just so comforting to you.

"I hope you don't mind hibernating with me." You say. He pulls you in close as he arranges the pillows and blankets around the two of you, using his arm as a pillow for you. He finally pulls the blanket over the two of you and wraps his other arm around you.

"Honey, I don't think I could have hibernated without you..." He says softly, ending in a yawn as you both settled in to get some sleep. As you two embraced each other, sweaty and satisfied, you couldn't stop thinking about how Clayton would be a really good dad. You secretly hope his seed already got you pregnant as you fell asleep cuddled into his chest. He took another good look at your gorgeous face before drifting off to sleep himself. Both of you were soon dreaming of your belly swollen with his cub and little kids running around.

He could get used to this.

[evergreen-pumpkin]

A snapshot of one morning, on a relaxed day with mild weather. Now imagine this when it's crowded or when it's raining or snowing.

Video description: POV from the lap of a wheelchair user. Very shaky. OP is going downhill on a fall day. Lots of trees and fallen leaves around. There are construction trucks to the left in the very beginning. Every now and then, you can see a German Shepherd on the left. Second obstacle shows a food robot crossing the sidewalk to drive in front of OP, but it stops suddenly and OP crashes into it. OP continues down the hill until she reaches another food robot, which is obstacle 3. This robot sits in the middle of the sidewalk while OP navigates around it. Then OP comes to a concrete ramp with iron railings, which is obstacle 3.5. It is very steep. After the ramp, OP goes to cross the street, where a black SUV blows through the crosswalk. Obstacle 4 is a ramp with red brick. OP struggles to move up and pauses at one point before continuing again to obstacle 5, where there is a big concrete building and manual doors. The German Shepherd service dog goes up to push the accessibility button multiple times to no avail. A student comes and opens the door, OP enters through two sets of doors into a hallway. Clip change to obstacle 6, OP is wheeling down a hallway and approaches a white elevator with out of order signs.

End of description.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat

This picture is making me have thoughts about sexy construction worker!Rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit, as he words it when shy!reader inquires about his job since he’s always showing up to the small cafe she works at all sweaty and white shirt dirtied...

hope you enjoy xx

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

cw: construction worker!Rafe being flirty and having some improper thoughts about reader, slightly suggestive

wc: 1k

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Every time the golden bell above the door of the coffee shop dings and Rafe's eyes settle on her soft form the edges of his mouth tilt up; offering her a lazy grin as he asks what baked good she’d recommend for him to try that day.

His visits have become something she begins to look forward to, him asking about her day with his raspy voice and big biceps bulging as he leans against the counter; always managing to drag a nervous giggle out of her. She feels like a Pavlov’s dog, her brain tingling and mind buzzing like a bee when the clock ticks away and the time he usually walks through the mustard yellow door approaches.

And he thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, especially when she smiles at him all bashful, trying to hide the way her eyes round out and her breath gets caught in her throat whenever he leans closer to her, asking what she's doing after this with a slow drawl, lifting his thumb to her cheek and swiping away a smudge of flour dusted over the skin there, lingering for a second too long.

"Messy girl," he'd murmur, purposefully trying to make her blush, being mean.

Slowly but surely, his visits become the best part of her day and she starts to harbor fond, gooey feelings towards the slightly older guy who makes a show of loudly humming in satisfaction when he bites into a raspberry chocolate muffin she’s made, honey dripping from his tongue when he showers her in compliments.

He seems to be pleased when she diverts her jittery eyes from his intense gaze and tries to busy herself with swiping a rag over a spot on the countertop (for the fourth time already), sneaking glances at him indulging in the confectioneries she's practically forcing him to taste test now; whenever she tries a new recipe, she always wants him to be the first to try it. And he's not complaining.

And when he finds out she walks home by herself, even after night shifts, there’s no other option for him but to insist driving her home from then on, because he doesn’t like the idea of such a pretty girl walking alone in the dark, doesn’t like it at all.

She of course denies him immediately, going on about not wanting to bother him and that she’s fine, to which he simply furrows his brows, telling her it actually wouldn’t be a bother at all since he can often work quite late as well, demanding to know what time she gets off that night. And she has no choice but to hesitantly reply, his stern tone almost compelling her to give into his every wish.

It then becomes a routine for them, him waiting for her to finish up cleaning and her mumbling out a soft thank you when he holds the door of his truck open and she crawls onto the passenger side with his palm on the small of her bag guiding her, just resting there, reassuring. He often refers to her as "my passenger princess", making her melt into a puddle on the seat every single time; trying to hide her flustered face from him, but failing miserably.

She often feels rather overwhelmed in the small space of his car, a plum tinge heating up her face whenever she feels his eyes on her, catching her staring at his big hands. She's not sure how he's allowed to have such alluring details; a singular gold ring adorning his index finger, strawberry lips so inviting, it's making her head spin.

Therefore, it’s not really her fault when her mind gets lost in a haze and her brain turns foggy when she notices how his strong arms flex whenever he turns the steering wheel, thumb tapping against the leather. Or when his blunt fingernails scratch at the slight stubble on his face and she wonders how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or-

“You good, Sweetheart?” Rafe asks and she blinks, realizing he’s asked her a question. A question her dazed cerebrum has no recollection of.

“Sorry?” She's embarrassed.

A low chuckle rumbles from his sturdy chest. “What’s on your mind, hm?”

“Oh, um— nothing just tired and…stuff,” she tries to sound convincing, his grin widens.

“Yeah? So you’re telling me you weren’t just checking me out?” His tone turns into something condescending, patronizing.

“What? I— no, no I was just-“

“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” but there’s a mocking glint in his eyes that indicates she’s not being very subtle. Her face burns.

“Asked you if you were hungry?” He flits his eyes to hers.

“Uh...yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t even remember how long it's been since I ate lunch to be honest,” she starts to ramble, trying to ignore the murky thoughts trying to reach beyond the surface.

“Why don’t you come over to my place then and I could make you something? All I’m saying, is that I’m a great cook, feels unfair to me that you’re always the one filling up my belly with your baking,” he says as his mind starts to concoct a few other ways he could fill up her belly, willing to bet that she’d let him.

He’s not an idiot, he sees the way her moony eyes travel down his features whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention, thinks it's adorable how sheepish she is about it.

However, he’s hesitant about the right way to approach it, not wanting to scare the shy little thing away. But he’s not sure how much longer he can go without having her in the way he wants, in the way he needs.

Therefore, he opts to warm her up with a homemade meal, and afterwards let her have a sweet treat; he'd fuck her dumb, stuff his cock into her tight cunt until tears start to trickle down her cheeks and she's a whimpering mess.

He knows he could make her feel so good, wants to show her just how much she's missing, make her beg for it and wants to be a little mean, but most of all he just wants to make her his.

“Um…okay,” she agrees with a nod of her head. How is she supposed to deny him of anything when he’s looking at her with eyes that resemble dulcet water puddles?

[loganbcrnes]

Mine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x female!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Dom/sub, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Logan (X-Men), Feral Behavior, Rut Sex, mention of frank castle, Explicit Sexual Content, Breeding, Impregnation, Marking, Blow Jobs, Logan has a big cock, and hes very hairy yes, Reader-Insert Authors note: originally posted this on my ao3, but decided to just upload the full one-shot here as well. link. Not beta'ed and no description of reader Summary: Logan unexpectedly goes into rut and you're there to help him through it.

You had no idea what you were anticipating when Logan came home from work. Before he left in the morning, he was acting stranger than normal. His temper was short, his motions were labored, and he wasn’t himself. His scent was also stronger than normal. It didn’t take you long to realize something was wrong, the bond felt stronger between you two like it was during the war and before you even began to make lunch, you received a text from your Logan.

Logan: I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think I’m in rut.

This caught you by surprise. Most alphas these days didn’t get ruts and omegas didn’t get heats either. Just like they’re becoming rarer as time goes by. it’s sad really, back before the war, before Hydra - you were able to go into heat. You always spent it alone back in the 30s, you even got time off from your part-time job as a nurse when you were temporarily staying in Ireland. Logan could go into ruts too before Project X. during the war you both would help each other out, which led to you both bonding until the train mission fucked all of that up.

But now it’s 2021, over 70 years have gone by and 3 years since The Snap. You are forever thankful that both you and Logan survived it. You don’t know what you would have done if your beloved alpha was taken away from you once again. Since then you both decided to get a nice cabin in the mountains to get away from everything. You both were done fighting, tired of constantly losing people you loved. 

Logan got a job in construction in town about an hour away. So he didn’t usually come home until around 6 pm. You were thankful when you got the news that Frank Castle and his pack of alphas were moving a few miles away from your cabin a few months ago. You know it can get isolated in this area, so to have friends that you consider family to come and visit was nice.

There was no time to think about the next course of action though, it was clear what you had to do and something you thought you wouldn’t ever do again. Logan would be back in about half an hour, which gave you time to set up the room and go for a nice shower. 

You immediately went into one of the cupboards in your walk-in wardrobe for blankets. Logan didn’t necessarily like making nests, he always said and his quote: “ya’ don’t need to make those things no more lady, you use your alpha.” in his deep gruff tone. So you resorted to cuddling at least 2 times a day instead and he would fuck you into the mattress just how like it every time. 

Once you got a mattress onto the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows littered onto it, you went into the bathroom and stripped down. You cleaned up and once you were done, you slipped on a white silky nightie that reached down to your thighs. After that you got some nice cold water bottles to put beside the nest. As you were done you heard the door click open.

Logan could smell you before he even got out of his truck. His heightened senses were even more sensitive and he could smell just how wet you already were. All he could think about was knot, breed, mate- over and over as he got closer to the door.

It was rather embarrassing when he started to sweat and get a hard-on on his lunch break. He didn’t understand at first, but then recognized the symptoms to be a rut. Thankfully Frank was there to get him to leave, but damn did that hurt his ego a little.

Once he entered he was hit again with your strong scent. It was so sweet, sweeter than usual that he was beginning to think that maybe his rut could trigger your heat. He sure hoped so. Your scent was a mixture of roses and strawberries, he used to hate strawberries before he met you, but now it’s one of his favourite fruits.

You looked up from your iPad as Logan walked in and put down his backpack. “Hey,” you said as you got up, but were cut off by a squeak when he immediately jumped you. He picked you up by your thighs, making his way to your bedroom, his lips never leaving your neck. He nipped and sucked little bruises into your soft flesh. He put you down gently onto the mattress and started groping your breasts. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day, Darlin’”. Logan growls as he starts kissing down the valley between your breasts. He pulled back and slipped off your nightie, revealing your breasts and wet cunt. You blushed and looked away, but your alpha immediately notices. “Hey, no looking away from your alpha now,” Logan says as he grips your jaw to look back at him. 

“Sorry, Alpha” you shyly say. Logan only grunts back in reply as he stares down at you. You grip at his clothes, “off, please” you whine at him. Logan immediately starts to strip down, you stare at his glorious beefy body as he takes off his pleated shirt and jeans. Your eyes traveled the trail of hair down to his already hard cock. You lick your lips wanting to taste so badly. 

Logan notices as smirks, he leans back down to press his lips against yours, just as a whimper escapes through your lips, giving you a smoldering kiss which leaves you breathless within seconds, distracting you as he continues to run his hand up and down the curves of your body, getting closer to your sensitive parts.

You are gasping for breath when he pulls away, and in your complete haze, you watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Logan growls as he licks your clit. You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance. You feel the hard tips of Logan’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

“So hot, baby,” Logan growls, his warm breath falling on your sensitive folds as he whispers between the kisses he is giving you right at your heated core. “I’ve wanted to taste you since I could smell your sweet scent before I even got outta my car.”

You can’t think straight, you’re totally blissed out and your mind is filled with alphalphabreedmatealphabreed constantly, you reckon he has triggered your heat, but you don’t even realize and neither does he. His cock is stiff and swollen, you notice the center of his length has a bulge, showing that his knot is starting to form.  Your cheeks begin to heat up realizing that you’re doing this to your alpha. 

You go deeper and deeper into submission, surrendering yourself to your alpha, letting him know he can use you however he wants. Logan feels everything you feel, your bond is so strong that it’s overwhelming for the both of you. 

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He has never seen anything so beautiful. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge.

He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little mate.”

You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Logan continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

Once you come down from your high, Logan pulls back and climbs up the bed kneeling right beside your head. Keeping one hand at your chin, he raises your head up as he uses the other hand to pump his cock, aiming the crown tip on your swollen lips. “Go and put your pretty mouth to use, Darlin’,” Logan says. A drop of pre-cum leaks from the slit, making you drool at the taste, while the heady scent of his cock fills your senses as you breathe him in.

You eagerly nod, barely catching a breath from your strong orgasm, he slips his cock through your open mouth, wanting to satisfy your alpha.

Groaning, Logan reaches down and squeezes your nipple as he thrust in and out of your mouth with almost the same force he would use if he is deep inside your pussy. 

“Love these tits of yours baby, love to see them jiggle when I fuck your tight cunt” Logan continues to grope your tits as he dirty talks. He thrusts into your mouth hard and you moan at his words, cheeks reddened at how dirty he’s making you feel.

You suck the entire length of him each time, loving the feel of the head of his cock at the back of your throat. Using his other hand, Logan grabs onto your hair, keeping you steady as he plunges deeper inside your mouth, pummelling deep into your throat each time he reaches to the brim.

His heavy balls filled with seed, slaps against your chin, loving the sensation and feeling dirty all at the same time. You dig your nails into his thigh with one hand and into the sheets with the other, holding on tightly as your lover uses your mouth for his pleasure. “So fucking good, baby. Always taking my fat cock so well. Look at you choking on it” Logan rambles as he thrusts into your mouth. He groans as you suck hard. You continue to choke as his knot is forming. 

Logan’s cock falls out of your mouth with a pop. The spasms of your climax remain. You close your eyes trying to catch your breath. You feel movement and blankets being moved on the mattress. After a few minutes, you feel a hand caress your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. You open your eyes to see Logan, his pupils are dilated to the point you only almost only see black. “You okay, Honey?” Logan asked. He leans down to press soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. You hum as you lean into his touch, “Want you now Lo”. you said, “please knot me, need it so bad”. 

You’re a whimpering mess now, grinding your clit against Logan’s muscular thigh. Logan growls as he pulls back, he grabs a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest pushed flush against the mattress, legs bent, and the knees with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now.

His long fingers trace your slit as arousal floods from your entrance, coating your slick on his fingertips. Anticipation pangs at your chest as you wait for his next move. Everything in him wants to drive his hardened cock into you and knot you full of his seed.

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as he brings a finger up to his mouth, basking in the taste of you. A wanton moan erupts from his lips at the taste – so perfectly sweet he would never be able to get enough.

Dire thoughts rush through your mind as you rest on your elbows, face turned to the side to try and see Logan out of your peripheral vision. His pupils are completely blown, eyes focused only on your center as his chest heaves in anticipation. “Please Alpha, breed me, I’m ready,” you say to him. 

Logan is always less talkative during sex and now that he’s in his rut and possibly gone feral, his mind is screaming to him to knot and breed your tight cunt, to the point he can’t form words.

His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, grasping onto your hips with such pressure that it is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, even with your fast healing. Sharp fingernails dig into your skin as his tip meets your entrance. It’s fiery and red, inflamed and veins popping out alongside his length from how hard he is. The precum that leaks from his tip coat your slit, combining with the wetness dripping down your thighs to create a delicious mixture.

One last reassuring squeeze of your side is all he gives before pushing into you ruggedly. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he makes his way into your core, feeling the familiar sensation you felt back during the war. His size is bigger, so much thicker and longer than his normal length when he is not in rut. It’s a lot to take in at once, and he’s trying his best to let you relax as your body adjusts to his size. 

“You can move,” you say, lip caught between your teeth as your walls stretch further around him.

With your fists grasping for the sheets, Logan begins thrusting his hips slowly into you– holding out a second each time he bottoms out to let you breathe. His nails only dig into your sides further, barely giving him a grip onto reality to hold back his animalistic instincts.

Deep grunts leave his mouth as he tries to hold himself back, but he can feel his humanity slipping further and further away with each clench of your pussy. His heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he bares his teeth, “need to breed you now.”

You moan out loud “please, please alpha, need you to fill me up with your pups” you continue to beg him. 

Quickly, his hips snap into yours, his thick muscles flexing as he holds your body steady, fucking into you deeply. Breath is sucked out of you as his pace increases; stars forming at the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them shut, mouth salivating at the increasing pleasure bestowing upon you. His length is a lot to get used to again, even though Logan tried to avoid knotting you back then because you both didn’t have enough time, there were times when he would sneak into your sleeping quarters to knot you in the middle of the night, his hand pressed against your mouth to reduce your loud moans as he thrusts his large cock into you; but the everlasting pressure against your g-spot was making the pain melt away.

Logan thrusts in and out of your pussy effortlessly, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. With each thrust, he bottoms out, and it becomes difficult for you to remain upright. Limbs shaking from pleasure, your elbows begin to give way, landing you flat against the mattress.

Your mouth opens, but the only thing able to escape is a silent scream, too immersed in the feeling of him battering your walls and hitting your cervix to make a sound. A loud moan leaves your lips as he pulls you back up, his arms wrapping around your waist to use all his strength to hold you in position. His sweaty hairy chest is pressed flush against your back, the heat radiating off his body soothing you as his mouth meets your ear. A quick nip is placed on your earlobe as he catches it between his teeth.

“Taking me so well.”

He says in his deep voice. The praise quickly soothes your nerves, helping you relax into him as he holds your body close, closer than you had ever felt to him before. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on.

“Logan I-I’m gonna–”

“I can smell it,” he groans, mouth meeting your bond mark as he sucks harshly on it. 

A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate.

Feeling your release over him only makes him thrust harder, deeper. It sends him into a full-blown frenzy, unable to keep himself from chasing his high. “Smells so sweet, gonna breed you, Baby, have you pumped up with my pups. Gonna look so sexy with your tits filled with milk and your pregnant belly.” he rambles, the more he talks dirty the closer you get to the edge. 

And you knew what this meant. You both finally have a chance to have children. Something you have always wanted when you first got together with Logan. Before meeting him, you never had high hopes to find a man and have a child or two. You were insecure and no one wanted a 26-year-old virgin omega. Especially since omegas were looked down upon back then.

But that time is over now, you're with the love of your life 70+ years into the future and everything you have ever wanted is here right now.

“God, do it, Logan, please knot me,” the words slip between cries, still shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, “Breed me.”

So he does.

His eyes slam shut as his mouth finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, reclaiming you once again. Screams blow past your lips as blood begins to trickle from the wound on your shoulder. Your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood.

“That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect.”

Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to him as you do right now. Firecrackers lit through your veins, the connection between you and Logan binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now, you’re too blissed out from the shock of him reclaiming you to notice how his cock is beginning to swell inside of you.

Cum shoots out of his member, filling you up to the brim until your abdomen begins to feel heavy and swell. That floating feeling quickly begins to fade as his orgasm keeps coming and coming, no inch of your insides gone untouched by his seed. It seems like it's never going to end, and you can feel the pressure from his release building and building inside of you. Your sensitive walls stretch as his cock expands, your body doing the job it’s supposed to; knotting to plug you up and make sure none of his cum drips out.

“Logan,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as his cock continues to inflate inside of you, “Logan it kinda hurts.”

“Shhh It’s almost over, baby,” he comforts you, stroking your hair before guiding you onto your side, laying behind you. After such a rough round, his familiar touch eases your pain. The light kisses he places along your spine let you sink back into him, focusing on the feeling of his soft lips instead of the balloon-sized cock stretching your vagina. Gentle hands trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the sound of his calming breath. His chest heaves as he tries to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Soft kisses soon turn into small licks running over the length of your back as you lay there, still speared on his cock. Now that his animalistic needs were met, it was all about you.

“What are you doing?” you frown slightly.

“Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this new method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it.

As Logan’s knot begins to subdue he doesn’t let go. His tongue soothes over the spot of his mark, all red, but could see the bond mark more visible than it was before. 

“Do you really think this will work?” you ask Logan. You don’t know what you will do with yourself if you aren’t able to get pregnant by this. “It will trust me, Darlin’. And if it doesn’t, we’ll try again and again until it does,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so happy you’re mine after all these years.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as a smile stretches across your face. All you want to do right now is to turn around and kiss him, so you do. His face is just as bright as yours when you meet his eyes. His hair is messy and his skin is shining with perspiration, but he looks handsome as ever. He welcomes your kiss like he’s been waiting for it all day. Mouth chasing after your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss before pulling away.

It's the first time he’s seen your eyes since you’ve gotten home, and even then he couldn’t appreciate them as he could now. There's a different glow that he didn’t notice before. Maybe it's because he’s reclaimed you and knotted you after all these years, but he is willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I love you,” you sigh, pressing your palm to his cheek. He looks so innocent now, the blackness in his eyes now faded back to the hazel color you love so much. All the years and pain he’s been through, disappeared. 

“And I love that you’re mine.”

[knightjpg]

Brick by Brick

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench.

tags: construction worker simon/neighbour reader

part 1 | part 2

Summer is the worst time of year for construction work outside. Up early before the birds are awake to try and beat the heat, arriving on site at six or earlier with bleary eyes and creaky joints from the day before. It means coming home at four or five with lots of day left to get through yet without the will or energy to do anything beside shower, eat, watch some telly, and sleep. 

The pay is good and it beats sitting in a cramped office all day, but when Simon gets home with aching knees and the thrum of a headache at the back of his skull it's hard to remember why on Earth he chose the career he's in. He's drenched in sweat, large dark patches adorning his pits and back. 

It's one of those days where very little can make him stray from his commute straight to home to collapse into his big falling-apart chair, but today it's not really up to him. A large moving truck blocks his driveway. The faded company logo against dirty white overtakes the entire view of his windshield, though Simon can see the back doors are still swung open. No one to attend to it, though. 

Simon noticed the FOR SALE! sign had gone, of course. Remembers feeling vaguely pleased, even, that the home next to his wouldn't be empty anymore, because he of all people knows exactly how quickly places can fall apart without anyone tending to it. But right now all he feels is tired, and hot, and really fucking annoyed. Just when he's clicked his belt loose to get out of the car and see if the dolt belonging to the truck is anywhere to be found, voices carry from the open front door. 

“...last. I'm afraid it's a little heavy, though, so maybe we should get the boxes out first?” 

And out steps the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Hair tied up, tight little top, and shorts that give him ample view of your legs.  

Maybe summer's not so bad after all. 

You're talking to a bloke wearing a uniform that matches the moving truck and who looks flushed in the face from exertion. As soon as you clock Simon's car, though, you stop mid-sentence in surprise, and then quickly walk to him, brows furrowed apologetically. 

“Oh, I'm so sorry—you're trying to get past us, aren't you?” Simon gives you a nod, and you turn back to the mover. “Would you mind moving the truck up a little? I don't want it to be in the way.” 

There's precious little parking space ahead, so Simon rolls down his window and calls out to you, “Jus’ backing up a few yards s’fine.” He gestures to his driveway so you know that's where he's headed, and you flash him a smile and a thumbs-up in understanding. 

The truck is moved, Simon parks his car, and you pull another heavy-looking box from the cube. You never reach your new doorstep with it; Simon steps in and lifts it from your hands. You blink up at him, lashes fluttering sweetly with surprise. “Oh—are you sure? It's heavy...!” 

One corner of Simon's mouth tugs up. Tired as he is it weighs next to nothing, and he can't resist holding it with one arm, holding out the other. 

“Can take ‘nother if you need.” 

You laugh and assure him this is quite enough, then jog back to the truck while Simon pushes past the half-open door to his new neighbour's home. 

It's a mess, of course. Piles of boxes, scattered furniture, rolled-up carpets. Simon puts the box down in the living room, then saunters back outside to lift another from your hands. He does the same with the couch; the mover is struggling and Simon doesn't trust him not to let it fall and crash. And you're such a little thing. Just doesn't feel right, watching you rush around and struggle without stepping in. 

With Simon's help it's quick work. The mover thanks Simon before driving off, but he's not really listening. There's much more important things to pay attention to. 

You're pretty. Cheeks flushed from exertion, breathing hard, flyaway hairs from your ponytail sticking up in odd directions. Simon has to suppress the urge to smooth them away. 

"Thanks so much for the help,” you tell him earnestly. “I'm sorry we were in the way—we thought we'd have a little more time before people started coming home from work.” 

“S’alright,” Simon says. It's nearing evening, now, the sky above you glowing in pale pink and oranges hues. The little smatter of trees across from you rustles with a gust of summer wind.  

You introduce yourself and insist on giving Simon your number “in case there's ever anything you need.” Simon's more concerned about a young woman living all on her own but takes your number all the same, watching your pretty little fingers tap it in on his phone. 

“I mostly work from home, but I'm very quiet and boring,” you tell him with a smile. “You don't have to worry about noise.” 

For some reason that isn't the selling point it should be. When Simon stands inside his hallway, house empty and dark and quiet, he wishes he still lived in a shitty apartment with thin walls on the bad side of Manchester. Maybe then he'd hear your footsteps, or better yet, your voice. Instead the only thing waiting for him at home is silence. Heavy and thick, where he's ripped away from sweet sunshine and plunged underwater. 

-

Simon is halfway to falling asleep on the couch when the bell rings. He groans, drags a hand over his face, and glances up at the TV. The football match is still going. The camera pans over a cheering crowd, their cries distant and quiet. 

He mutes the thing entirely and heaves himself up to open the door. Swear to God, if this is the fucking salesman again... 

“Hi there.” 

You give Simon a little finger wave, your other hand cradling a round oven dish. When you shift on your feet the protective foil on top rustles noisily. 

You look a little more put together than you did yesterday—rested, showered, fed. Just as pretty. 

Although, speaking of fed... 

“Alright?” Simon asks, eyes on the oven pan. He's only catching a faint whiff of something, but whatever it is smells really fucking good. His stomach reminds him that the only thing in his fridge are a couple cans of beer.  

You nod and lift the dish with a shy little grin. “Yeah. Um. I wanted to say thanks again, for yesterday. And I wanted to test out my oven, so...” 

You hold the dish out for him to take. Simon's fingers brush yours, large meaty paws easily twice the size of your own. When he peels back the foil you add, “Shepherd's pie. I thought about cookies, but I wasn't sure if you'd like those.” 

The scent hits him, then, rich and hearty and buttery smooth. The dish is still a little warm. 

Fuck. When was the last time he ate something homemade? 

“No, I'll eat anything,” he says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. He hasn't showered yet. Must look a nightmare. Does he stink? “Thanks.” 

Your whole face lights up, and Simon's neck feels hot. He averts his eyes to avoid your gaze and pretends to inspect the pie instead. Jesus, what is he, twelve? “I'm glad. I'll leave you to it, then.” 

D’you want to come in for a drink?  

It's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't get the words out quite right and gives you a brusque nod, watching you walk back to your own home before closing his door all the way. 

He eats at his kitchen table and finishes the whole thing in one go. Chases bits of flakey crust with his finger, licks up every leftover crumb. The meat is tender and juicy and for a while after the only things he smells is golden-brown potatoes seasoned with rosemary. 

He mourns it when it's gone, of course. Has half a mind to go over right now and ask if your cooking is for hire—Simon can't remember the last time he felt satisfied. When he ate not just for the sake of fuel or convenience but because someone wanted him to have something nice, something special. Is it special? Is he special? Are you going around the neighbourhood handing out cookies and pies to just anyone? 

Simon's sigh is loud in the silence and sticks to the kitchen walls. 

The pre-made frozen meals are fine, of course. Empty plastic containers fill up the rubbish bin. They're easy and cheap and most days Simon's glad just to have something warm in his stomach.  

And yet. 

The next day Simon stands at your door at six in the evening sharp, holding the clean dish in his hands. You invite him in for a cup of tea, because unlike him you have good manners, and you sheepishly apologise for the stacks of boxes everywhere. 

“S’alright,” Simon says, carefully manoeuvring around a large pile of books. “I don't mind.” 

And he doesn't, though he does feel like a bull in a china shop. Large and much too coarse for the little tea cup you hand him while the kettle whistles on the stove. 

“I'm afraid I don't have much to go with it,” you say with a flutter of your hands. “Do you like ginger snaps? I think I've got a pack somewhere.” 

You don't wait for his answer and pry open one of the cupboards. First come the ginger snaps, then the box of Earl Grey, which you hold up to him with a triumphant smile. “Unpacked the important stuff first.” 

Simon frowns and jerks his chin to the cupboard. “S’it stuck?” 

“Oh—yeah. They all are.” You give the wood a little knock. “It'll take me some time to get to fixing everything. The house went for a good price, but only ‘cause it needs some love.” You give him a rueful smile and get up, wiping your hands on your thighs. “I'm not all that handy, so I'll have to take it bit by bit.” 

Simon rises before you finish your sentence. "Let me see.” 

“Oh, no, it's okay. It's not a big deal, really—” 

Simon crouches down, slowly, to spare his knees, and tests the hinges. The wood is rotten in certain places, the hinges old and rusted. Rather than fixing it up it should be replaced entirely. You really better had gotten this place for good money, because this will take more than a bit of elbow grease to repair. He prods at the hinges, tuts, and looks up at you. 

“Ready to fall apart, this one. You said they're all like this?” 

You nod, worry creasing your brow. “I—yes. Well, the kitchen is. The bathroom seems alright. Is it worse than I thought?” 

“Might be. You have anyone look at this?” 

You shake your head. “I'm starting to feel silly about it now, but I was going to look up how to do it myself.” 

Simon straightens. “I'll go get my kit.” 

-

It's not as bad as he feared. Two cabinets need tearing down completely, but the others are worth saving. Simon warns you the repair job will fuck the wood, but you tell him it's no problem; you'll paint over it anyway. 

You feed him tea and ginger snaps while he works, asking him several times if he wouldn't like a break, hasn't he done a lot already? You feel terrible about having him work on his day off. Didn't he say he worked construction? He must be so tired, poor man. You insist he stay for dinner. “You've been so helpful—it's the least I could do.” 

Simon takes a breather to watch you cook. Chicken, pasta, summer salad. The sun sinks lower and hits you straight on from the kitchen window, painting the edges of you a dazed red-gold. An angel's halo. 

“You big on reading, then?” 

You turn down the heat and put a lid over the pan to join him at the table. Simon's eyeing the many books strewn about on top of boxes that say “pans” and “kitchen supplies”. Le Morte D’Arthur. Histories of the Kings of Britain. Beowulf. There's even one that prompts a vague, long-forgotten memory from his school days— The Canterbury Tales.  

“I am. Always have been.” You nod to the books. “I teach at university—medieval literature. But I'm working on my own research on the side.” 

Simon lets out a low whistle. His pretty bird is a clever one. Smarter than him, that's for sure. He might be big and strong but he's got bricks for brains. 

That's what his dad always used to say, anyway—that he's stupid. Those always were his kinder moments. 

“That explains all the books y’got.” 

“There sure are a lot of them, aren't there? I swear moving really makes you realise just how much stuff you own...” You shake your head. “I'll have to get a bigger bookcase.” 

“Think it's impressive.” 

Your eyes crinkle with a smile. “Not as impressive as knowing how to fix my cabinets! I don't know how I would've managed by myself.” You hop up from your seat to check the food, then ask over your shoulder, “Is that something you do a lot for work, too? Carpentry and the like?” 

Simon shakes his head. “We do the heavy lifting. Clearing a place out, laying the foundation. Johnny—my coworker, he's mostly on machinery. Kyle does transport and plumbing. I do the heavier handiwork.” 

You hum and start plating the food while asking him more questions. Is the pay good? Is his boss fair? Are his coworkers nice? 

Price's fairly strict is what he is, Simon answers, and you laugh again. He likes that. Likes that he gets you to do that. 

He wolfs down a plate of his pasta and devours the chicken. It's fragrant, roasted with lemon and thyme, bursts between his teeth. He tells you more about Johnny, that he's a cocky bastard who likes playing with electricity way too much, but that he's also a loyal friend. That he's a hard worker—that all of them are. 

When his plate is empty and he's eyeing what's left in the pans you push them closer without saying anything, and prompt him to tell you about that time a plumbing line exploded and Kyle got soaked from tip to toe in disgusting gunk. He smelt like sewage water for weeks. 

Simon doesn't even realise how much he's talked until his throat starts feeling rougher than usual. You make it easy somehow. If he'd thought you would look down on him because of your own job he needn't have worried. You're not at all like what he imagines when he thinks of professors, none of the stuffy superiority complex he's used to weathering when people find out all he does all day is chafe his fingers on hard cement.  

Maybe you're just good at faking it, but he doubts it. The sparkle in your eyes when you listen to him so intently has to be real. 

You send him home with a warm thanks and dessert, and Simon feels something in his chest lurch when you peer up at him through your lashes in the doorway, smiling and sweet. Can't remember the last time he went out for dates. Can't remember having the time or energy for it. 

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. 

Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench. 

There are days when it's hard, of course. Simon is only human, and spending days and days on sizzling hard concrete would wring anyone dry. The project is coming along nicely, but at the height of summer there's plenty of times when even the promise of your smile isn't enough to keep him from falling asleep on his couch—often on an empty stomach. 

But during the weekends he rings your bell dutifully. Six o’clock becomes something sacred in his mind, sweet relief after praying on his knees for hours smoothing out cement. It gets to the point where he turns down Friday drinks with the guys more than once because he's got something to go home for now, his pretty little bird that's never once mentioned a boyfriend of any kind. 

“You really should let me pay you.” 

Simon gives you a look before pushing his large shoulders further into the cabinet under the bathroom sink. “Should be the one payin’ you. I know I'm doubling your grocery bill.” 

He eats more at your place than his own these days. It gives him incentive to rush through a shower, dress like something resembling a human, then wait at your doorstep to be let in. Wagging tail and everything. 

Your cheeks darken and you duck your head. “No, um... It makes me happy. To see you eat my cooking, I mean,” you confess a little shyly. “I feel like I'm the one getting everything out of this. I hope I'm not keeping you from—from spending time at home, or with your family.” 

“S’just me, love.” Simon pauses, pretends to inspect the pipes. “Less you don't want me coming ‘round anymore.” 

“No, no,” you say hastily. “No, I like—I like the company. Really.” Your voice softens. “And I'm not just saying that because I appreciate the help.” 

Simon exhales, shifts a little to accommodate the strain in his boxers, and holds his hand out for the screwdriver. 

[yuthana]

Vintage retro truck litho metal tin. Big red hydraulic dump truck. metal/tin car of USA. Buddy L Brand. Made in USA.

(Sold Out)

[inkdrinkerworld]

Inn Love

cw: friends to lovers, cowboy!james, innkeeper!reader, pet names, fluff, scene setting really

wc: 2.6k

“Please Jamie? I just need a couple pounds of butter.” You bat your eyes at him, all sweet and innocent but James knows you.

“If I give you what I have left I won’t have any to sell in the market this weekend.” He’s trying to stand firm. He really really is.

For all your sweetness and innocence, you’re like a viper to James’ strength of will.

“I’ll pay you more than the market.” You’ll definitely try, but James can never charge you full price.

“I’m sorry, darling. Go to Malloy, he sells butter too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “No one sells butter that’s as good as yours, Jamie.” You’re trying as hard as you can, James seems unmoved. So you up the ante. “I’ll bring you one of the pound cakes on top of payment.”

James falters a bit then. You bake the best in the entire town. At your inn, The Secret Garden, that’s one of the best reviews after the impeccable mattresses. You also know James has the softest, sweetest spot for pound cake- especially the blood orange pound cake you make.

He groans and you squeal, your boots clicking on the cobble. James gestures for you to come into his house.

“You’re so fucking evil.” he mumbles, reaching into his second fridge and handing you three pounds of butter. You take a quick peek and find his fridge stocked with pre packaged butter wrapped pretty in parchment, cheese in there too. There’s even milk. James is the best damn dairy farmer this town has ever seen and it’s a wonder how he ever has enough butter.

“You are an angel, James Potter.” you wrap your arms around his neck, and James’ hands automatically wrap around your back.

He’s big and warm, smells like leather and blood oranges and for all his muscles James is surprisingly soft.

James can’t fight the smile on his lips when you let go of him. You really are sweet. “You’re lucky I made more butter today.”

You gasp, not at all surprised. “You playing hard ball with me, Jamie?”

He nods, setting his hat on the counter. “Maybe I wanted a pound cake for free.” he teases but James would never take anything from you without paying you no matter how much you try to get him to. He doesn’t really care that you’re friends, he’s paying you for everything.

“You’re losing angel status, Potter. I gotta go, gotta bake for breakfast tomorrow and for the market this weekend.”

“See ya’, darling.”

James spots you while you’re closing up your booth at the market and hands off the empty crates he was hauling to his friends, Sirius and Remus.

He jogs over to you, and places his hands on your shoulders. You startle and almost swing a punch at him but he catches your fist.

“Okay Rocky,” he chuckles when you put your hand to your chest, breathing heavily like you’d just run a mile.

“You scared me, James! How don’t you make noise when you walk?”

James rolls his eyes, taking your crates from you. You move to packing bags.

“I make lots of noise, you’re just in your head.” He says, you shrug with a smile.

“Did they buy all of your butter?” you ask as you start walking towards your truck, James close behind.

“And the milk and the cheese.” You roll your eyes at his cocky tone.

You know James better than most here. You went to school together, you used to ranch with him when you were younger and when his mom and dad still owned the ranch.

Then you’d both had to grow up, you going to business school and James having to take over the ranch after his mom and dad had gotten sick.

You’d come back for the funeral and been there when James couldn’t get out of bed to deal with the ranch and all the shit that came with that and stayed till he got better and could do it himself.

Then James helped you with the construction of The Secret Garden, your inn that became your baby.

All this to say is, you know James Potter and he’s not as cocky as he pretends to be.

Sure he’s any woman’s dream. With his inky curls always peeking out under his hat, his muscle tees that show off tan, muscled arms, his pretty brown eyes that remind you so much of browned butter and his fucking dimples.

But James is a sweetheart.

“I told you about that tone, Jamie. Makes you sound too sure of yourself.”

James only chuckles, placing the crates in your tray and the rest of your stuff.

“I’m sorry weren’t you telling me the other day that my butter’s the best?”

You wave him off, laughing as you open the back door.

“Do I give you your loaf now or at family dinner tonight?”

James smiles, this is the one routine you and James still have from when you were kids. You go over on Sunday night for family dinner and then you go to the inn and try to get to sleep before your three am alarm.

“I just spent all day in the hot sun and you’re gonna deprive me? You’re cruel, darling.”

You laugh, handing him the loaf and then reaching in your cooler for a bottle of water. “Here Jamie.”

James’ mouth is already stained pink with the icing from your cake. Crumbs clinging to his shirt and chin.

“James! Have some dignity.” your words are broken up with your laugh, James smiles when you hand him the open water bottle.

“Thanks, darling.” Half the loaf cake is gone, and James guzzles the water like he’s been dying of thirst the whole day.

You watch James drink, aware that you’ve been staring a little longer than necessary and James knows it too because he winks at you.

“What are we having for dinner, James?”

James smiles, “Beef, you wanted that last time when we had chicken.”

You smile, giddy as ever. If it’s one thing James can do is roast beef; it’s always tender and perfect.

“Do you need me to come over early and do the potatoes? With the rosemary and thyme?” James nods, breaking off another little bite of the cake.

“Meet me there in an hour? I know you gotta do dinner at the inn.”

You shake your head, “I got Mary doing dinner tonight, and I wanna check on Snowglobe.”

James’ hand falls over his heart, a look of mock offense on his face. “Do you not believe me when I tell you he’s okay?”

You roll your eyes, “Can’t I want to take my best boy for a little leg stretch?”

James grumbles, “Best boy? Snowglobe took two years to train when we were kids.”

You smile as you remember all the days you’d sleep in James’ room complaining about how Snowglobe hated you and would never warm up to you.

“And now he’s the best horse a girl could have.You’re just jealous Jamie.”

He says nothing, just takes his loaf cake and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll follow behind you. Try not to drive like you’re on a race track, yeah?” You nod, getting into your truck and letting James close the door for you.

You don’t listen to James’ words and speed towards his ranch, foot to the pedal even as you swing into the grocery for chocolate for dessert- lest you and James pass away without a sweet treat after dinner.

At his place, in the Big House, you and James work side by side prepping dinner. He seasons the beef, you season the potatoes and put them to roast and then start on a chocolate cake.

It’s not a fancy one, but it’s occasion enough for a chocolate cake.

“How long till everything is finished?” Sirius asks, hat on his chest as he walks in holding a six pack.

“About an hour.” You and James say at the same time. Remus rolls his eyes as he steps in behind his boyfriend.

“I got your fruit, you didn’t stop by.” He holds out three bowls of cut fruit and you smile.

“Thanks Rem, I swear everyone came for bread today! I sold out of it so fast I really contemplated going back to the inn and baking more.”

The boys hum, smiling when James opens a beer and slides it to you. You take it with a nod and a smile. Quickly, you uncover the bowl of watermelon, taking a few pieces and smiling at the sweetness.

“It’s cos it’s fucking amazing bread. Lasts the whole fucking week too.” A compliment from Sirius is always genuine- as long as you’d known him, about two years, you can count on one hand how many sweet words the man says.

Conversation lulls, James talks about his plans for the week, Sirius talks about how there’s too many people trying to build big condos in your town- he’s in real estate and Remus talks of how much simpler life had gotten since he’d started raising chickens again.

You shoot out of your seat, James watches you curiously. You pull the cake from the oven and turn to all three of them stern as can be, “Those potatoes have ten minutes. I’m going to see my horse, do not let them burn.”

You rush out of the Big House without another word, boots clicking against the wooden floors and then crunching on the gravel path as you make your way to the stables.

“Snowglobe, baby.” You call, passing each stall till you find your baby’s.

Snowglobe is an old boy, almost twenty four, but he’s always been perfect. He’s all white, a pretty shiny sort of white on his coat that makes him look like fresh fallen snow. Hence his name.

He raises his head as he sees you, tail flicking as you reach a hand into his stall.

“I missed you, old boy.” You kiss his nose, stepping into the stall and getting a brush. You’re sure the farm hands James hired keep him well groomed, but he likes a bit of pampering and he deserves it too.

You brush through his mane, talking to him and sneaking a couple apples to him.

There’s a knock on the stable doors and you startle, you hear James’ deep chuckle before you see him. “Dinner’s ready,”

You kiss Snowglobe on his nose again. “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll go riding, baby.”

James rolls his eyes when Snowglobe puts his face on your shoulder, stopping you from moving.

You grin wide, “I promise, old boy. We’ll go riding all evening.”

Snowglobe seems pleased because he lifts his head and lets you go.

“He’s as clingy as you are,” James says as you walk out beside him.

“He’s not clingy! He’s the best and I don’t come see him nearly enough.”

James scoffs, “The four times a week you ride him up and down the ranch isn’t enough?” He bumps your hips with his.

You shrug your shoulders with a smile, “He likes the exercise and your boys still saddle him. He doesn’t like it.”

James is well aware, Snowglobe tosses saddles off him if he’s feeling particularly annoyed with the weight of them some days.

James pushes open the door to the Big House. You walk past him, taking your seat on the table and groaning.

“This is gonna be fucking great.” Sirius laughs at your swear, and loads up your plate- roast potatoes, roast beef and salad.

By the time you’re all finished dinner, you and James have had two slices of cake each and you’re both sprawled on his sofa.

Remus is laying on Sirius with his hat on his stomach and Sirius’ is pulled low on his face.

“I gotta get going,” you say, breaking the silence. Your words are groggy, sleep close in your reaches the longer you lay beside James.

James sits up, “What time is your alarm?”

“Three thirty.”

James tries pulling you down beside him, but you don’t budge. “I’ll drop you back in the morning.”

You huff, a little amused. “What time do you usually wake up, James?”

“Four. I gotta check the fences though, so three thirty ain’t bad.”

There’s no use arguing with him, and you don’t really want to. He stretches out on the sofa,

Sirius and Remus are out cold, James doesn’t even move them. He just throws a blanket over them.

“C’mon, the guest room is always ready for you.” James sounds just as tired as you feel, his eyes look a little glassy too.

“Thanks Jamie,” you push open the door and smell the lavender spray you use at night strong as if you’d just sprayed it.

“Course darling, your blanket’s there too. Come get me when your alarm goes off, yeah?” James kisses your forehead, you smile.

“Yeah Jamie. Go get some sleep.”

You climb under your blankets, grinning when you smell the linen detergent James uses. Sleep comes quick, your eyes heavier than they’ve been all day now that you’re laying down.

-

Someone is shaking your shoulder and you don’t like it.

“Stop,” you groan, pushing the hand off you and pulling your blanket over your head.

“Darling it’s nearly three thirty. Come get some coffee.”

You groan, twisting in protest under the covers. “No. I’ll be down at three thirty.”

James rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me use advanced waking up tactics.”

Your head pops out of the covers, hair a little messed up. “You are not tugging this cover off me James. I swear to god.”

James smiles, “You’re so pleasant in the morning. C’mon, we’ll have coffee and one of those breakfast sandwiches and I’ll drop you off.”

The grumble you let out makes James laugh some more.

“Give me five minutes.” James nods, leaving the room and letting you go about your morning routine.

You find James pulling two sandwiches from his oven, setting yours on a plate and biting into his immediately.

“Thanks Jamie, where’s my coffee?”

James tilts his head to the pot, your favourite cup sitting right beside it.

“Your creamer’s in the fridge.”

You frown, “Where did you get sugar free creme brûlée creamer in the middle of summer?”

James shrugs, “Not telling. But it’s there.” James takes a sip of his own coffee, black with just a touch of sugar. “It’s turkey in the sandwich too.”

You smile, fixing your cup and then shuffling towards James to kiss his cheek.

“You’re cute, thank you Jamie.”

His cheeks redden without meaning too. “Eat so we can go darling. You got scones to bake and what is it today? Eggs and bacon with toasted sourdough?”

You nod, biting into your sandwich. “Yeah and I gotta do cookies today, want me to bring any over?”

James frowns, “Today?” You nod, taking the last bite of your sandwich and finishing off your coffee.

“Taking Snowglobe out after I finish up dinner at the inn.”

James rolls his eyes playfully. Since the moment Snowglobe stopped fighting you, the pair of you had been inseparable. “Yeah, you can bring a couple. Make sure and eat lunch.”

“Left overs?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful as you look at James. He feels his chest constrict a little.

He opens the fridge and pulls out a bowl, “Got everything here for you.”

“Angel status has been restored Jamie,” James grins, dimples poking out. Truly, he’d never been worried, you’re never actually upset with him ever. Angel status is always applied, but he can’t deny the way it makes him feel when you tell him that it is.

“You’re so gracious!” James bows, making you giggle and slap his shoulder. “Ready?” He asks as he rights himself. James opens the fridge again, pulling out the bowls of fruit Remus had brought over and setting them on your lunch.

“Ready, Jamie.”

[deen-djarin]

Suds n’ Trunks

Summary: Joel ordered a car washing service…bikini car washing service.

Tags: 18+, No Outbreak!Joel, Cheeky Flirty!Reader, Porn with a sprinkle of plot, Daddy kink, Choking, Joel is a menace and so is reader, Oral (m & f receiving), Unprotected P-in-V, Consensual Creampie

—

The sun shone on the perfect suburban streets of Austin, Texas. So hot you could fry an egg if you wanted to. You rolled your windows down, driving down a neighborhood you’re not familiar with, and pulled up at the house that sits in the cul de sac, a dirty- no filthy ford pickup truck parked on its driveway.

This must be the place.

A sigh fell from your lips as you hopped off your car with your supplies in hand; a bucket, sponge, microfiber rag, and various soaps for different parts of the car. The heat was even worse after you’ve left the comfort of your air conditioned car, but the thought of being out of your clothes and soaked in suds and the cool water excites you.

Once you’ve discovered this lucrative market of bored, horny, lonely middle aged suburban guys— eager to see a show, and maybe get their car cleaned as well, you start to do this gig every summer. The money is good plus these guys tip generously.

Your service by its core is nothing but a mobile car wash, but the carwash is being done by you, clad in a skimpy bikini. c’mon, who wouldn’t want that right?

When you scored your first customer, you became a spectacle for the neighborhood. Your client shamelessly pulls out a lawn chair, having a grand ol’ time “enjoying the sun” as you wash their car. Neighbors walking out their houses mowing their already perfectly trimmed lawn, walking their dogs, cats, and some approached your client for a neighborly talk they probably haven’t had in months.

You’ve gotten the whole neighborhood out of their house basically, then your client list doubles with those people coming over to you and asking to do theirs next. Some cars don't even need washing, but you do them anyway with a smile knowing you’re gonna eat good that night.

Ever since then you decided to do this gig every summer, cheekily naming your little business “Suds ‘n Trunks”.

—

You ring the doorbell of the Miller’s residence and step back. You could hear a soft grumble from behind the door before it opened and reveal a scruffy, middle aged, handsome man. your eyes scans him quickly, his hair tousled, his shoulders broad, big arms, big hands, Jesus Christ you want to just-

“Can I help you?”

His gruff, deep, Texan drawl snaps you out of your trance and brings you back to reality.

“Uhm yes, Mr. Miller? you called for a car wash?” You asked him with a sweet voice you come to learn that older men love, it always works like a charm, making them tip you a fat wad of cash— these men just craved attention from a pretty girl, and you’re happy to give that to them.

“Oh..yeah you could uh, it's that one right there,” he motioned to the dirty pickup truck. You give him a smile and nodded, “okay, i’ll go on and get started then.” Joel nodded and shut the door immediately.

—

A red Ford bronco sat on his driveway, absolutely covered in filth. You usually don't deal with this much grime, dust, and mud. Granted, most cars you’ve washed barely need a wash, the clients just wanted to see you wet and covered in suds, which you couldn’t really blame them.

You took a breath and started to step out of your tanktop and shorts, revealing the red matching bikini you’re wearing underneath and started to go to work.

—

Joel was exhausted after doing several construction projects back to back yesterday, from dawn to the ungodly hours of the night resulting in his beloved truck — Shirley— looking like it had been dragged in the mud…literally.

Joel likes to take care of his things, Shirley is no exception. His free time on the weekends is often spent on his truck in the garage, polishing her to perfection. But after all the hard work he did, just the thought of washing her made his back groan in protest.

So he got the number of your services from his coworkers after they commented on the state of Shirley, a smirk planted on their faces and they kept snickering which Joel found odd, but he was too fed up and exhausted to think twice on booking your services.

Joel grunts as he settles on his couch, his cold bottle of beer in one hand, the tv remote on the other. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and turned on the TV.

It's finally his time for him to take his hard-earned relaxation time. which should be easy, but he could hear the annoying sputtering sound of his neighbor’s lawnmower.

That thing needs more oil. He thought to himself as he took a sip of his beer.

Then another sound of a lawnmower sounded from the other side of the house, even more annoying than the first.

What the fuck? Why are they all mowin’ the lawn at the same time? at this hour? he thought.

Then comes the obnoxious yapping of Mr. Thompson's french bulldog and chihuahua.

What the hell is goin’ on? it's a whole ruckus out there.

He groaned, frustrated that the whole neighborhood seems to be against his well deserved relaxing time. He grumbled as he strides towards his window, drawing up the blinds to see what the fuck is going on out there.

His eyes nearly bulged out, blush quickly crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his cock twitching in his pants instantly at the sight.

You, bend over in the hood of his car, wet, covered in suds, in a fucking bikini. He tried to look away, he really did, but the way your hips sways, your ass jiggled, as you scrubbed hard with the caked on mud on his truck— it was hypnotizing.

—

“What the hell are ya doin’?”

The sight of Joel's furrowed brow as he stared at you in your revealing outfit was a mix of disapproval and desire. Your sweet smile remained as you answered his question, "Mr. Miller! I'm just washing your car."

His gaze roamed over you, making you shiver with anticipation. "In that?" He grunted, clearly torn between his disgust and arousal. "Well, yes… It's part of my service."

The man stood silent for a moment, his confusion palpable. "Part of your service?"

"Uhm, yeah... It's a bikini car wash service… You didn't know?" you tilted your head, confused.

Joel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"The name is Suds 'n' Trunks," you reminded him softly.

"I know what it's called!" he huffed, clearly frustrated.

Unsure of how to proceed, you hesitated. "So, uhm, you want me to just dress up and go or—"

"No, finish your job," he grumbled, still irritated. Your eyes trailed down to the growing tent in his jeans, confirming the source of his conflicting emotions.

You hid your smirk and purred, "Yes, sir," before returning to your task. The knowledge that you had such a potent effect on him only fueled your desire to please him.

—

Your back is even more curved now, ass sticking up more than they should as you washed the side of his truck, knowing Joel is looking– watching you like a hawk while he sits on the porch, a beer in his hand and a cigarette on the other. you turned your head over your shoulder just to give him a small smile, which he returned with his jaw clenching.

You bask under his gaze, your body tingling, giving him the best show you’ve ever given. you squatted as you started to clean the lower part of the truck, your ass jiggle with every hard scrub you give.

The tension between the two of you is palpable, leaving Joel frustrated, he knows damn well you’re taunting him. He’s torn between wanting to yell at you for acting so unprofessional and embarrassing him in front of the watchful eyes of his nosy neighbors— or fucking you against the truck for payback.

He sits there watching you, contemplating on what to do. You gave him another cheeky look over your shoulder and that was it, his last resolve snapped, fuck it.

—

“Careful with her,” he said lowly as he approached you.

You turned your head, batting your eyelashes, “Hm?”

“You’re goin’ too hard on her, just painted that part,” he murmured as he got closer, just right behind you.

“But the mud is really caked on this part,” you told him and went back to scrubbing.

“A-ah, hey,” he tutted and leaned down behind you, his large palms sitting atop of yours “Gentle…easy does it,” he murmured, his hot breath fanned against your ear.

You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan as you felt his hardness pressed against your thigh. Your hand following his movements, “There we go…there we go, good girl,” he murmured and you swore every part of your body shivered.

“This is gonna take longer to finish, sir,” you murmured, your voice a mere whisper as you turned your head to him.

“I know…but you’re gonna get a bigger reward out of it, how’s that sound hm?” he muttered to your ear before abruptly pulling away from you and sitting back on the porch.

your breath hitched, heartbeat skipping, and the heat between your legs grew hotter. You turned your head towards him to see him sitting back at his porch, his head nodded at you to continue your work, a small smirk curved his lips.

—

You’re halfway done with the truck when his neighbor starts to approach you, a middle aged guy you came to learn named Michael. He’s been clearly hitting on you, and trying to get a closer look on what you’re doing. which usually doesn’t bother you but you could practically feel Joel's watchful eyes boring into your back.

“So you do this for a living?” he asked as he stood a few feet away from you, “It's just a summer gig i do,” you replied with a small smile, keeping the response light.

"Sweet, it's nice seeing a young, beautiful, hard-working woman," he chuckled. Your jaw tensed for a moment before you forced a tight-lipped smile.

"Can you do my car next? It's pretty dirty too," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. You felt a flush of annoyance, but your eyes met Joel's, who glared disapprovingly from his porch.

"Well, uh..." you hesitated, glancing back at Joel. He shook his head, a clear indication that he didn't want you to entertain Michael's advances. "Sorry, Michael. I'm booked for today... I gotta go somewhere after this."

Michael sighed, "Aw, just my luck," he lamented. "I'll ask Joel for your number, huh? I'll book you as soon as you're free." You chuckled, "Yeah, you go do that."

Michael made his way over to Joel, asking for your number. Joel nodded, but with a grunt, he gave Michael the wrong number. A smirk played on your lips as you returned to your work.

—

After what feels like forever you finally finished with the last drag of your microfiber rag. You let out a sigh and turned around to Joel sauntering his way. “All done Mr. Miller,” you purred.

He looked at his truck, all clean and shiny. A satisfied smirk graced his face, “you did a good job” he praised. “Good enough to get that reward?” you murmured with your head tilted innocently. Joel let out a small chuckle “Mmhm... come on inside and i’ll get it sorted for you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes gleamed with lust and you bit your lip in anticipation as he led you inside his house. The wind hits your wet body, the coolness leaves your nipples even harder, your body tingling with need.

By the time the two of you were inside, Joel’s body was taut, like a spring ready to burst. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, his large palms grab a hold of your wet body and pinned you against his door, you let out a surprised whimper at his sudden actions.

“Been a good girl for me huh? Takin’ care of my truck,” he murmured as he leaned down and his lips grazed your jaw to the skin under your ear. “Been naughty too haven’t you? Tauntin’ me with this sweet ass of yours,” he grabbed your ass and gave it a hard squeeze making you let out a small moan, he pulled you closer, his hard cock pressing against your wet bikini bottoms.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips against him, needy and desperate for friction, eliciting a small moan from you and a groan from him. “What do you have to say about that huh? Pretty girl?,” he muttered and nibbled on your earlobe, “I’m sorry sir” you panted softly.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be that sorry,” he chuckled lowly, his voice gravely and his accent was thicker than before “Think I would have to punish you… you thought it was funny huh? Makin’ me hard as a rock with those fucking neighbors watchin’?” he growled to your ear and slapped your ass, you whimpered and jolted forwards.

“I’m sorry sir..please don't punish me,” you whined and bit your lip. “You’re sorry huh? Go on, pretty thing, show me how sorry you are,” he murmured. You didn't need to be told twice, you fell to your knees, eyes wide as you looked up to his face, hands deftly undoing his belt and jeans and pulling it down along with his boxers.

Your mouth salivated just from the sight of his cock springing free, thick, veiny, and throbbing, just how you thought it would be. He gave you a nod to tell you ‘go on’, you leaned down and darted your tongue out, tasting the heady taste of his precum. He groaned and tossed his head back, hand tangling in your hair and pulled you in, you hummed and finally wrapped your mouth around his girth with a small whimper. Your jaw straining to accommodate him, tongue moving with practiced ease as you sink down deeper, taking in more of him.

“Fuck yeah..good fuckin’ girl…thats it,” he muttered and started to guide your head the way he wanted, you thrive with his praises, taking in him as deep as you could. Gagging and sputtering here and there but you didn't stop at all in search of his approval and satisfaction, you didn’t want to stop. The room was filled with the sound of his grunts and heavy breaths, along with the obscene sounds from you and your muffled whimpers.

Joel nearly came when he saw you starting to snake your hand between your legs, “Naughty fuckin’ slut, touchin’ yourself huh?” he groaned and started to thrust into your mouth, holding your head in place. “You want me to take care of that? Hm?” he growled and you whined as an answer. Suddenly he abruptly pulled you away from his cock, “get on the fuckin’ couch,” he muttered, you scrambled off the floor and quickly gotten on the nearby couch, “on your hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commanded and you did as he said, bending over, facing the backrest of the couch.

He stood behind you and pushed you legs wider, your head craned over your shoulder to look at him with your needy expression, bottom lip between your teeth. He gripped your chin and he leaned down, finally crashing his lips to yours. He was rough, didn’t even hesitate on pushing his tongue into your mouth, tongue dominating yours, making you whine and push your hips back, desperate, begging for him.

His kiss left you panting as he pulled away, he trailed kisses down your back, biting on the knot that holds your bikini top together and pulling on it and letting it unravel, his hand started to grope your tits, playing, pinching, pulling on your sensitive nipples. “Mr. Miller,” you panted “please..”

“Use your word, Baby, what do you need?” he murmured to the crook of your neck. You whimpered and kept moving your hips, “anything- please- your finger, mouth- anything, i need you,” you rambled desperately. Joel chuckled darkly, his large fingers playing with the knots of your bikini bottoms, “needy little thing,” he murmured before pulling on the knots and unraveling the red wet fabric, making it fall to the couch.

Joel practically growled at the sight before him, you, bent over with your ass high in the air, naked, your pussy dripping and ready for him. “Look at you..” he murmured and leaned down, groping your ass and pushing it apart to reveal more of you. “Mmh..” he grumbles before leaning down and placing a broad lick on your cunt. “Oh- god- Mr- mmhngh! Mr. Miller” you whined and pushed your hips more to his face. Joel groaned and started to really eat you out, his large palms splayed on your ass, face completely buried in your drooling pussy. “It's Joel, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he pulled away from your cunt for a second, “I wanna hear ya moan my name.”

“Joel..” you breathed, getting used to the feel of his name on your lips. Joel started to flick his tongue rapidly on your clit, making your eyes roll back and moan out his name, “fuck- ahh! Joel!” He grunted in response, “yeah that’s it, moan my name…mmhhh good fuckin’ girl.”

You were falling apart already at the hands of his tongue, moving on your pussy with practiced ease. Joel relished the sounds of your moans, and the sweet and tangy taste of your cunt. He groaned and started to push his thick fingers to your entrance, “Joel! Ahnghh! F-fuck! mmhngh!!” you cried out, he grunted and pulled away from your pussy for a second, “That’s it baby, you’re gonna cum hm? Gonna be a good girl an cum on my face?” he muttered and curled his digits to hit that heavenly spot within you, you whined in response, barely able to come up with words but nodded with your eyes closed in pleasure. “Good girl, c’mon, come on my face” he panted and started double his efforts, his tongue flicking on your sensitive clit, slurping all your juices, whilst his fingers kept hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, you back arched and your eyes rolled back, you swore you saw stars. His name kept falling from your lips in between moans and whimpers which he responded with praises.

“good girl, that’s it”

“you’re so pretty when you cum for me”

“tastes so good baby, there you go..”

He peppered kisses across your shoulders and back as he waited for you to come down from your high. “joel..” you panted and kept pushing your hips back to grind against his throbbing cock, eliciting a groan from his lips, “yeah? you want my cock, pretty girl?” he muttered and rutted his hips against you, his cock sliding against your cunt. “yes- please joel- please-“ you let out a loud moan when he suddenly pushed his cock into your core.

“fuuuck” he groaned as he pushed himself in “fuck- shit, baby you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he panted and gripped your hips tight. “joel! oh- f-fuck hhngh!” you whimpered and gripped the back of the couch. Joel pulled back until his cock is almost fully slipped back, you whined at the loss of his stretch, then he slammed back in. “Fuck! Oh- f-fuuckk! Joeel!!” you cried out, “Yeah baby that’s it- shit- yeah take it baby, take it” he growled to your ear and wrapped your hair on his hand and yanked it back. Your head tilted back at the force and he crashed his lips to yours again, swalowing all your moans and whimpers as he fucked you with a relentless pace.

“J-joel” you warned between pants, “Yeah i know baby- fuck- yeah i can feel it,” he groaned and panted “c’mon baby give it to me, cum on my cock, c’mon” he murmured and went faster. The sound of his skin smacking against yours gets louder and louder, the couch groaned and creaked in protest. You could barely utter any coherent words at this point, just slurring his name and how good it feels between moans and pants.

Your back arched and trembles as you cry out his name like a prayer. Joel slowed down for a second, letting you ride out the orgasm, “there you go…hmm there you go” he muttered soothingly, his hips rocking deliberately, slowly. “You can take more, sweetheart?” he murmured to your ear, you couldn’t help but nod. ”Good girl,” he praised to your ear and kissed your jaw before his arm wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest and pulled you up until his chest pressed against your back. He resumed his hard relentless thrusts, his hand on your chest groping and playing with your hard nipples. you felt like floating at this point, just taking everything he gave you like a good girl.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growled to your ear, you could barely talk just letting out sounds of pleasure, he spanked your ass hard and you gasped out a moan, “Yours! Hahngh! All yours!” you whined, Joel gripped your neck and pulled you closer to him “Who?” he demanded, you panted and choked out, “Yours daddy!” bingo.

He growled and bent you over again, his hand still tight on your neck, choking you just right. “Yeah that’s right, such a good girl for daddy,” he muttered and pounded into you. You kept choking out moans, calling him daddy over and over. He shifted his position, propping one leg on the couch to get a different angle, deeper, and it allowed him to reach that spot within you. “Oh my g- aahhngh!! daddy!! right there, oh fuck- fuck me right there!!” you cried out. He grunted and let out a dark chuckle, “there sweetheart?” he taunted as he thrusted extra hard aiming at that spot again. “yes!! yes- yes please- please i- daddy please” you rambled, begging for him, his cock has reduced you to nothing but desperate and needy. “well since you asked so nicely,” he said coyly before hitting that spot over and over again.

You felt you’re gonna shatter yet again in any second, a ticking time bomb set on your lower belly. “D-daddy i’m- hah- i’m-” you could barely finish your choked out sentence. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for daddy?” he panted to your ear, all you could do was nodded and give a whimper of confirmation. He chuckled darkly and his hand snaked down to rub your clit with fervor while his hips kept pounding to your ass, “Go on then, come for me, come for daddy,” he muttered to your ear.

Your vision blurred and you saw white. It feels like you’re barely conscious, your third orgasm hits you even harder than the last. You didn’t noticed whats happening until joel groaned, “Fuck yeah you’re squirtin’ on me baby- good girl- hhnngh good fuckin’ girl.” Your thighs trembled, wet with your release, red from his thrusts.

He finally let go of your neck and you gasped out for much needed air, his thrusts started to stutter. “Where do you want it?” he panted to your ear, “Inside, inside daddy, please,” you begged and started to move your hips to meet his. Joel couldn’t hold back any longer, 1, 2, 3 hard thrusts later and he came completely undone inside you. “Fuuuckk!! Fuck yeah- oh shit baby” he moaned, “fuck! makin’ me cum so much, pretty girl…oh yeah good fuckin’ girl,” he panted to your ear.

After his hips stilled, he pulled out of you, making you whine and clench around nothing, pushing his hot sticky seed out of you.

He chuckled and whispered to your ear, “look at you…all messy n’ dirty,” he cooed. “You cleaned my truck now it's time for me to clean you,” he murmured before peppering kisses down your spine yet again.

—

author’s note: THIS WAS MY FIRST FIC EVER AHSHSHEH so forgive me if its shitty or the grammar is horrible bc english is my 2nd language:3 ALSO i have never written smut before heheheh, your feedback is greatly appreciated!! thank you for reading this horny piece of literature!!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 

“Osita…”   

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 

And holy fuck did he look hot. 

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 

“Hermosa, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 

“What’s going on, baby?” 

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 

Oh, fuck me. 

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 

“Like, right now?” 

“Like, right now.” 

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 

“You still okay, Osita?” 

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 

Taglist:

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[identifying-cars-in-posts]

I GOT A NEW CAR

Everybody meet the new baby that i will never shut up about forever!

This is Clifford the Third, my new 1996 Nissan Pickup!! I probably paid too much for her but given that I live in Massachusetts and she has virtually no rust I’m okay with that lol.

So a brief history of the Nissan Pickup! These trucks were released in the US in 1985 and were sold through 1997, when they were replaced with the Frontier. They were the successor to the beloved Datsun 720, which had been in production since 1979. They are in fact just called the Pickup! They’re colloquially known as the D21 - their chassis code, and the Hardbody, because of the double walled durable construction of the trucks’ bed.

The D21 was available with a couple different engines and drivetrain layouts. Mine is a 4x4 with the KA24 motor (which it shared with the 240SX/Silvia). She’s also a King Cab, meaning she has a slightly elongated wheelbase to allow for two small inwards facing jump seats in the back of the cab. Still a two door though.

AND SHE’S A STICK! She has a 5-speed manual transmission, and it’s the best transmission i’ve ever personally had in a car. She’s my third manual, the other two being a 1999 Toyota Corolla and a 2004 Subaru WRX, both of which were great but the Corolla had a really sloppy gearbox that felt incredibly vague at times, whereas the WRX had a sportier transmission that was pretty unforgiving and stiff. This one is definitive about where each gear is, but also won’t get too jerky or loud if you shift a little early or late.

Nissan Hardbody trucks are known and loved for their durability, versatility, and simplicity. They’re super bare bones but what they do have is built remarkably well and meant to withstand lots of abuse. If they don’t rust and have basic maintenance kept up it’s not uncommon for them to go 300k+ miles with minimal issues. Mine has around 184k miles, high but manageable. She also has a few modifications from the previous owner, namely a straight piped exhaust (no muffler, just one big long aluminum tube), aftermarket bumpers and lights, locking hubs, and a small lift. The guy i bought it from had plans to make it an off-roader but had too many projects and needed to offload one to make space in his driveway.

While many people either take these off-roading or turn them into drift trucks, my plan is to bring her back to mostly stock. I’m in the process of tracking down OEM bumpers and a more typical cat-back (from the catalytic converter back) exhaust system so she’s a little less obnoxiously loud. Since i mostly just need reliable transport more than a toy and she is now my sole car, I want to just make her relatively normal. But I love her a lot and am happy to be able to share!

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 4

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘴,"

summary: life has been perfect, just you and him, but the shadows of both of you and Joel's past has been haunting you again...

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 4

masterlist of the series

previous | chapter 3

next | chapter 5

The sun seemed to shine a bit brighter these days, casting a warm glow over your life since Joel had become more involved in it. His presence brought a newfound sense of safety and comfort, not just for you but for him as well. Joel, once a cold and distant figure, began to soften, melting into a warmer, more open person whenever you were around. It was as if the world belonged to just the two of you, and the bond you shared illuminated both your lives in profound ways.

Joel was now a regular at church, attending Sunday services and every fellowship event with renewed purpose. His participation didn't go unnoticed, especially by Tommy, Ellie, and Maria, who observed the positive changes in him. Joel still remained a man of few words, guarded and cautious, but your presence had undeniably brought a light into his life, guiding him out of the shadows.

For you, Joel became the protector you desperately needed. Whenever your father’s temper flared, you could escape to Joel, finding solace in his arms. He calmed your storms, just as you eased his burdens, becoming each other's anchor. You often sneaked out together to the lake or climbed into the back of Joel’s truck to gaze at the stars. Those moments felt like the world stood still, with only the two of you and the infinite sky. Joel found himself no longer lost in the darkness; instead, he had found his light in you.

However, you both had to maintain a facade, keeping your relationship discreet to avoid the prying eyes of the community. Sneaking out, lying to your father about being at a friend's house, and stolen moments of intimacy became part of your routine. While you hadn't taken your relationship to a sexual level due to your trauma from Jamie, the nights spent cuddling, kissing, and talking were enough for Joel. Though he sometimes felt the stirrings of desire, he respected your boundaries, focusing instead on the depth of your connection.

Joel sometimes took you out of town, exploring Austin or Houston. You visited night markets, played in arcades, and strolled through bustling streets. Joel despised arcades, but the sound of your laughter and the sight of your carefree smile made every annoying game worthwhile. Every time you smiled, it was as if a sunbeam pierced through the clouds in Joel's heart, warming a place he had thought forever cold.

"Got another project comin' up," Joel said one evening as you sat together in his truck, overlooking the hills. "A big one. Tommy thinks it's too much work for the crew we got, but I reckon we can handle it."

"Tell me more about it," you prompted, even though construction details often went over your head. You loved hearing Joel talk about his work; the passion in his voice made you feel closer to him.

"It's an office building downtown. Gonna be a challenge because we gotta keep the old facade. Means a lotta careful demolition, precision work. Gotta bring in some new folks, too, ones who know their way around older structures."

You nodded, trying to visualize it. "Sounds complicated."

"It is," he admitted, a touch of pride in his voice. "But we got a good team. Tommy's been talkin' to some contractors. We need people who can do the job right, you know? Can’t afford any mistakes."

"I believe you can do it," you said earnestly. "You’re amazing at what you do."

He chuckled softly. "You’re sweet." Joel's hand reached up, his rough fingers gently caressing your chin. His touch was like a warm breeze on a chilly evening, comforting and electrifying at the same time. Joel’s gaze held yours, his brown eyes deep and intense, like molten chocolate, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher but felt deeply within your soul.

Every touch, every look from him, made you melt. It was as if you were a snowflake landing on a sun-warmed pavement, vanishing into a pool of warmth under the intensity of his presence. You giggled, the sound light and musical, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel shook his head slowly, his smile spreading across his face, tender and genuine. "Nothin', darlin'," he said, his voice calm, gentle, and sincere.

Joel couldn’t fully grasp his feelings, but being with you made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years. He knew this might be wrong, but it felt so good, like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds, casting colors on a world that had been grey for too long. Ever since Sarah and his wife had passed, his life had been a landscape painted in shades of grief and loss. Ellie had brought back some light, but what he felt with you was different, something more vivid, more profound.

His world had been a desolate canvas, splashed with only the darkest hues. But you were the burst of color, the brush of a vibrant dawn, illuminating the shadows that had consumed him. You were his beacon, guiding him from the darkness, painting his existence with the brightest of shades. And though it scared him, it also filled him with a warmth and a hope he hadn’t dared to feel in a long time.

***

After school, you found yourself in the familiar warmth of the kitchen, the comforting scent of vanilla and sugar filling the air. Your mother, in her element, was bustling around, gathering ingredients for a cake and cookies.

"Can you grab the eggs from the fridge, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, reaching into the refrigerator. As you handed her the carton, her hand brushed against your back, right where the still-healing bruises were. You flinched, unable to hide the sharp intake of breath.

Your mother's eyes widened, guilt flashing across her face. "I'm so sorry. Does..does it still...um hurt?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. "No, Mama, it's okay. It's getting better."

She hesitated, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of worry and sorrow. "I know I haven't... I haven't done enough to protect you," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for that. I'm just... I’m so afraid of your father."

You placed a hand on her arm, trying to offer some comfort. "Mama, it's alright. I understand. Let's just focus on the baking, okay?"

Your mother nodded, her relief palpable. She turned back to the counter, trying to regain her composure. "So, have you noticed how Joel’s been coming to church more often lately?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of Joel, careful to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, I noticed."

Your mother smiled, though it was tinged with curiosity. "You know, he’s changed a lot over the years. He used to be so different when Sarah and his wife were alive."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity. You knew bits and pieces about Joel’s past but had never heard the full story. "What was he like back then?"

"Joel was a wonderful father and husband. He adored Sarah and Jane," your mother said, her eyes softening with nostalgia. "Jane and I were good friends. They were high school sweethearts, you know. Joel got Jane pregnant in high school, and they got married right after graduation. He worked so hard to provide for them."

You listened intently as your mother spoke, the rhythm of her words blending with the sounds of baking—mixing bowls clinking, the oven humming softly. Joel had never brought up his past daughter and wife when he was with you. It was as if a part of his heart was still locked away, guarded against the pain of revisiting those memories. You felt a mixture of sadness and curiosity, wishing he would open up to you but understanding his need to protect himself from that pain.

As your mother continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Joel’s heart was still closed off, like a house with the windows shuttered, sunlight struggling to seep through the cracks. "After they died, Joel was never the same," your mother said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her memories. "He isolated himself, barely spoke to anyone. He stopped coming to church, buried himself in work and alcohol. It was like the light went out of him."

You continued to bake, your hands moving automatically as you processed your mother's words. The more you learned, the more you understood the layers of grief and resilience that made up the man you had come to care for so deeply.

"Did you know his wife well?" you asked, curious about the woman who had once been such a significant part of Joel’s life. You felt a twinge of jealousy, knowing that Joel had once opened his heart fully to another woman, something he hadn't done with you yet.

Your mother nodded, her smile tinged with sadness. "Yes, she was one of my closest friends. Jane was kind and loving, always had a smile on her face. They were perfect together. Losing her was a blow Joel never really recovered from."

You felt a pang in your chest, imagining the life Joel had once had—a life filled with love and happiness that was abruptly shattered. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, understanding the depth of his loss and the strength it took for him to keep going.

Your mind swirling with thoughts. Joel had been through so much, yet he found the strength to care for Ellie and, in his own way, for you. He was like a fortress, strong and unyielding, yet vulnerable to the storms that battered him.

Your mother’s voice brought you back to the present. "Since he adopted Ellie, he's shown glimpses of the old Joel. But he still struggles. He’s still grumpy and distant. It was as if he built a wall around himself, shutting out the world to avoid more pain."

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for Joel. He had been through so much, yet he found a way to care for you and Ellie. "And now he's starting to come back to church," your mother said softly.

"It's good to see him more involved again. He deserves some happiness."

You smiled, though your heart was heavy with the knowledge of what you shared with Joel. "Yeah, he does," you agreed, hoping that somehow, against all odds, you could both find the happiness you deserved.

Your mom glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "I wonder what’s changed in him," she mused. "Maybe he’s finally opening up his heart for another woman."

Your body tensed at her words. She continued, "Ever since he became a widower, there have been plenty of women interested in him. It’s a small town, you know. Everyone knows everything. But he's always been so... cold and distant. Joel is handsome, successful, and a gentleman. Don't tell your father I said that." She chuckled, and you just smile to her.

Inside, you couldn't help but agree. Joel was indeed handsome and a gentleman, so different from your father. Your father, who should have been the epitome of kindness and morality as a preacher, was anything but. His exterior was polished and righteous, but inside, he was rotten. Joel, on the other hand, seemed rough on the outside but was truly good at heart.

Your mother sighed, "It’s good for Joel, though. It’s about time he moved on and built a new life. Maybe he’ll find a nice woman his age, someone who can be a good mother to Ellie. Adam needs his Eve, after all."

Her words made you uncomfortable, a knot forming in your stomach. You couldn’t bear the thought of Joel with someone else. The jealousy gnawed at you, knowing your mother would lose her mind if she ever discovered you were the reason for Joel’s recent change. You also felt a pang of insecurity, realizing how much older Joel was, how he could practically be your father. There were so many women in town who were more age-appropriate for him, attractive and mature, whereas you felt small and insignificant in comparison.

You focused on mixing the batter, trying to push away the uncomfortable thoughts. "Yeah, maybe," you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.

Your mother didn't seem to notice your discomfort. She continued to chatter about the town gossip, but your mind was elsewhere. You wondered if Joel ever thought about these things—marry a nice woman and built a new life? You knew he cared for you, but could he see a future with you, or was this just a fleeting moment in his life?

As you finished the cake and placed it in the oven, you couldn't shake off the thoughts swirling in your head. Joel was a beacon of light in your life, but the future felt uncertain. You wished you could ask him, but the fear of his answer kept you silent.

The cookies were done baking, and your mother placed them in two jars. "Take these over to Joel’s house and then to Tommy's," she said, handing you the jars and placing them in a sturdy tote bag to make it easier to carry on your bike.

You nodded, appreciating the excuse to see Joel. As you rode your bike through the familiar streets, the wind swept across your face, carrying the sweet scent of summer and the promise of evening. The sky was a canvas of blue and orange, painting a picturesque scene straight out of a movie. You loved this town—the southern charm, the way everyone knew each other—but part of you hated it, longed to escape its confines and the shadows that lurked within your home.

Arriving at Joel’s house, one of the bigger ones in the neighborhood, you parked your bike in the driveway and grabbed one of the cookie jars. Knocking on the door, as you always did instead of using the bell, you expected Ellie to answer since Joel’s truck wasn’t in the driveway.

The door opened, and instead of Ellie, it was Joel standing there. His face softened the moment he saw you.

"Hey, Mr. Miller," you said, deliberately using his formal title to tease him a bit.

Joel chuckled, his eyes warm. "Hey, doll."

You lifted the jar slightly. "Mom sent some cookies. She thought you might like them."

Joel took the jar from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. "Oh, that's nice of her, well, do want to come in?"

"Maybe for a little," You followed him inside, the familiar coziness of his home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Joel set the jar on the kitchen counter and turned to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing your unease.

You smiled, trying to brush off your worries. "Yeah, just... thinking about stuff."

Joel stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your chin. His touch was rough but tender, sending shivers down your spine. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You nodded, looking up into his eyes. They were deep pools of warmth and safety, and every time you looked into them, you felt like you could melt. "I know," you whispered.

For a moment, you just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. Joel’s eyes held something you couldn’t quite decipher, a mix of emotions that made your heart race. You giggled nervously, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, feeling self-conscious.

Joel shook his head slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Nothin'."

You giggled again. "You have to stop looking at me like that."

Joel raised an eyebrow, still smiling. He's leaning in to kiss you, "Like what?"

You blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Before Joel could kiss you, you both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, you stepped away from each other.

"Oh, hey, I thought I heard someone knocking," Ellie said, entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Ellie," you greeted her. "My mom and I made some cookies, and she sent you some. I thought I’d drop by for a bit."

Ellie grinned and walked over to you and Joel. She glanced at Joel, noticing his slightly flushed face, and raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Joel?"

Joel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, just, uh, a bit of dust or somethin'."

Ellie opened the jar and took a cookie. "These are great. Thanks!" She turned to you. Joel took a cookie as well, taking a bite and nodding in approval.

"You made this?" Joel asked, looking impressed.

You blushed a little. "Well, I just helping my mom."

"I take that as a yes and this is good," Joel said, his eyes warm.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth from his compliment.

Ellie turned her attention to you. "So, how’s school? I haven’t seen you much lately."

You shrugged. "Just busy with a lot of things."

Ellie nodded. "I heard you’re in charge of the church dance troupe for the event next week."

"Yeah," you said, smiling.

Ellie smirked playfully. "And I heard Pastor Ben picked you as soon as he saw you. I think he likes you."

Joel’s expression changed, his jaw tightening slightly. "Who's Ben?"

Ellie glanced at Joel, oblivious to his jealousy. "Pastor Ben is the new young pastor who’s going to be taking over while Father Gibson is away for a couple of weeks."

"Yeah," you added. "He’s just helping out while my dad is on a trip to New Orleans for the church."

Ellie nodded enthusiastically. "He's super popular with the girls at school. They all think he’s really handsome."

You laughed lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. "He’s just being friendly, Ellie."

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he forced a casual tone. "How old is he?"

"Not sure," Ellie said, shrugging. "Maybe late twenties?"

"Oh," he said.

Joel's face remained impassive, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his emotions. He didn’t want to show too much, to let on how much it bothered him that someone else might have an eye on you. After all, anyone would notice your beauty—your presence was like a beacon, drawing people in with your pure, radiant light. Men and boys alike found themselves captivated by you, your allure almost heavenly. Joel, despite not being religious, found himself silently praying that he could keep you to himself.

He knew that your beauty wasn’t just skin-deep. There was something about you that felt untouched, ethereal—a stark contrast to the gritty world he had come to know. You were his salvation, a glimpse of purity and hope in his otherwise dark and turbulent life.

Ellie changed the subject, sensing the awkwardness. "Anyway, are you excited about leading the dance troupe?"

"Yeah, it should be fun," you replied, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s a lot of work, but I think it’ll be worth it."

"Maybe you want to join, Ellie?" you said teasing her, "Oh hell nah," Ellie answered making a disgusting face, you chuckled.

Joel remained quiet, his eyes flicking between you and Ellie. You could tell he was still processing the idea of Pastor Ben, but he seemed to be trying to push it aside.

"Well, thanks for the cookies," Ellie said, taking another bite. "They’re delicious."

"Glad you like them," you said with a smile. "I should probably get going. I need to drop the other jar off at Tommy’s."

Joel’s expression softened as he looked at you. "Let me walk you out," he said. As Ellie remained engrossed in the cookies, Joel gently took your hand, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"When is your father leaving for New Orleans?" Joel asked in a low voice as he guided you towards the door.

"Tonight, around eight," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Joel’s eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Can you sneak out tonight?" he whispered, his hand lightly caressing yours.

You smirked and nodded, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

Joel’s eyes darted around, ensuring no one was watching. "I’ll pick you up behind your house at nine," he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and caution. His rough hand felt like a contrast to your soft skin, a stark reminder of the different worlds you both came from, yet a perfect match in this moment.

You felt a flutter in your chest, a combination of anticipation and desire. His touch was electric, sending a rush of warmth through your veins. You wanted to hold onto this feeling, the thrill of the forbidden, the secret moments that were just for the two of you.

Joel leaned in and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to your cheek, ensuring no one was watching. You felt your heart race, the sensation of his lips lingering on your skin.

"I’ll see you later," he murmured, stepping back slightly. "Take care."

You nodded, trying to contain your excitement. "You too," you said softly, your voice tinged with the happiness you felt inside.

The whole way to Tommy’s house, you couldn’t stop blushing. Riding your bike, you felt the wind rush past you, the world around you vibrant and alive. The sky was a brilliant canvas of blue and orange, the southern landscape unfolding like a scene straight out of a movie. Each pedal felt lighter, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a sense of freedom and exhilaration.

Reaching Tommy’s house, you parked your bike and grabbed the jar of cookies. Knocking on the door, you took a deep breath, the smile on your face unshakeable. Tonight held the promise of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see Joel again.

The house was a quiet, still tableau of ordinary life, its corners cast in the muted hues of nightfall. Your mother’s soft, tired footsteps echoed as she busied herself with the last-minute preparations for your father’s departure. From your vantage point in the dimly lit room, you could hear the rumble of his stern, authoritative voice as he issued his final instructions for his absence.

“Behave yourself, Evelyn. Take care of your duties.” your father’s voice cut through the air like a blade to your mother, “Make sure the house is in order," He said to your mother.

Your mother then called you from downstairs. “Come say goodbye to your father before he leaves.”

You descended the stairs with a heavy heart, each step a reluctant march towards the formality of your father's departure. His figure loomed large in the dimly lit foyer, his stern face illuminated by the flickering light from the chandelier above. The space around him seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence, a constant reminder of his authority and control.

Your father, already dressed in his traveling attire, turned to face you as you approached. His expression was as impassive as ever, his eyes scanning you with a critical gaze that never quite softened. “I expect you to behave while I’m away. Keep things in order, take care of your house duties with your mother and don’t let any mischief slip through. Pastor Ben will be in charge for the next two weeks."

You offered a formal, almost mechanical embrace, your body stiff as you pressed against him. The touch was brief, a quick and emotionless exchange that spoke more of obligation than affection. His words felt like a final checklist, a list of expectations that you had long learned to adhere to.

With a nod, you managed a polite, “Yes, daddy."

As he turned to leave, he gave one last instruction, his voice trailing off as he stepped toward the door. “Remember, be a good Christian girl. Stay close to God. Make sure you’re not a burden to your mother.”

After he had gone, your mother’s weary voice called from the kitchen. “Sweetheart, would you like something to eat? There are leftovers in the fridge. I’m quite tired and I think I'm gonna go to bed early,”

You shook your head, feigning a lack of appetite. “No, I’m full, Mama. I’ll just head to bed.”

“Alright, dear,” she replied, her tone soft but tinged with fatigue. “Don’t forget to pray before you sleep.”

You watched her retreat to her room, her movements slow and burdened. The house felt emptier as she disappeared from view, and you knew it was time to execute your carefully laid plan.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of bed and crept to your window. The night was still and serene, the air cool against your skin as you pushed the window open. The backyard, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, felt like a secret world just waiting to be explored.

You carefully climbed out of the window, landing softly on the grass below. The night sky was a canvas of stars, each one a twinkling reminder of the possibilities that lay beyond the confines of your everyday life. The cool breeze ruffled your hair, carrying with it the scents of the garden—jasmine, freshly cut grass, and the distant promise of freedom.

In the darkness, Joel’s truck waited, a silent sentinel against the backdrop of the night. The vehicle was cloaked in shadows, its lights off to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Your heart raced with anticipation as you approached, the thrill of the forbidden making your steps lighter and faster.

Sliding into the truck, you were greeted by Joel’s familiar presence. His face, partially illuminated by the dim interior light, softened as he saw you. A warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement that you felt.

Before you could say a word, Joel’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. It was a moment of pure, unrestrained connection, the outside world falling away as the heat of his touch enveloped you. The kiss was fervent, a melding of stolen desires and whispered promises, each touch a testament to the intimacy you shared.

Joel’s hands were rough and warm, their contrast to your soft skin sending a shiver through your body. As he pulled away, his eyes held a deep, unspoken affection that spoke louder than any words could. “Hey there, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm in the quiet cabin.

The truck’s engine roared to life, a low, rumbling purr that vibrated through the seats. The world outside seemed to blur as Joel drove through the empty streets, the city lights casting fleeting golden streaks across the windshield. Each streetlamp was a beacon in the darkness, guiding you through a night that felt like a dream.

With every mile that passed, the weight of your ordinary life lifted, replaced by the vivid colors of this stolen moment. The night sky above was a tapestry of dreams and possibilities, a perfect backdrop for the intimate adventure you were embarking upon.

The truck rolled to a gentle stop at the top of a secluded hill, its path winding through the darkened landscape like a secret road leading to a hidden sanctuary. The night sky stretched out above, an endless canvas dotted with twinkling stars, their cold light a delicate contrast to the warm cocoon of the truck's interior. Joel’s touch was a constant comfort, the warmth of his hand against yours a promise of the intimacy you shared.

You and Joel made your way to the truck's open bed, where a soft blanket had been laid out. The fabric was cool beneath you, but the warmth of Joel’s body beside you quickly dispelled any chill. You settled in together, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace as you both lay back to gaze at the sprawling expanse of the cosmos.

The night was a silent witness to your closeness, the stars above flickering like distant, celestial eyes. The moon hung low, casting a soft, silvery light over the landscape, making the moment feel surreal and dreamlike. Joel’s presence was a soothing balm, his breaths steady and calming against the backdrop of the night.

As you both lay there, the peacefulness of the night was punctuated by your conversation. The topics ranged from trivial to profound, each word a thread weaving the tapestry of your shared moment. The serenity of the night made every laugh and whisper seem more intimate, more precious.

Then, Joel’s voice broke the quiet, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. “Tell me more about this Ben,” he asked, his tone light but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “Ben? Oh, he’s just this new pastor. He’s always paying attention to me, it's weird...my friends keep telling me like he likes me, but he's not really my type. He's...too boyish,” you said, trying to convey your disinterest.

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Boyish? He’s an adult.”

You smiled, playfully snuggling closer. “Yeah, but he’s not you.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something akin to jealousy, though he quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. “Jealous?” you teased, noticing the subtle shift in his demeanor.

Joel gave a soft chuckle, his laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the night. “I’m not jealous.”

You continued to tease him, your light-hearted jokes breaking through the quiet night air. Each laugh and playful nudge seemed to draw you both closer, your bond solidified by the shared humor and intimacy of the moment.

However, your mind wandered back to the conversation you’d overheard with your mother. The stories of Joel’s past, of Sarah and Jane, lingered like shadows at the edge of your thoughts. A wave of curiosity and a tinge of apprehension washed over you.

“Joel,” you began tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper, “how come you never tell me about your life?"

"What do you mean, doll?"

"About Sarah and Jane,"

Joel’s body stiffened beside you, his hand retracting from its position on your waist. The shift was palpable, a stark contrast to the easy closeness you’d just shared. His face hardened slightly, a veil of discomfort settling over his features.

He looked away, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice guarded and distant.

You felt a pang of regret, your heart aching at the sight of his discomfort. The stars above, once a symbol of wonder and possibility, now felt like distant witnesses to a moment of unspoken pain. You struggled to find the right words, the metaphors of your own emotions becoming tangled in the reality of Joel’s guarded heart.

“I...I just want to understand,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I know about your life, but it feels like there’s so much more you haven’t shared.”

"And you knew about mine, all of it," you said again.

Joel’s silence was heavy, a deep, almost tangible weight that pressed against your chest. The night seemed to stretch on forever, the stars above a cold, indifferent audience to the emotions playing out beneath them. The warmth of Joel’s touch was still there, but it now felt like a fragile thread, tenuous and delicate.

Joel’s gaze softened, but the weight of his past seemed to anchor him, pulling him into a place he wasn’t ready to share. “It’s not easy to talk about,” he admitted, his voice trembling with a mixture of regret and sadness. “Some things are just too hard to revisit.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability, and you reached out, your voice gentle. “You can open up to me, Joel. I want to listen. You always listen whenever I’m down. I’m here with you,”

Joel’s eyes flickered with a storm of emotions, a mix of frustration and something else, but he remained quiet. You pressed on, your fingers lightly grazing his hand. “Do you ever think about them?"

A tense silence followed, Joel’s expression darkening. He clenched his jaw, struggling with the weight of his emotions. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his voice strained and edged with anger.

You tried to close the distance, your hand still resting on his. “Joel, it’s okay to open up.”

But before you could say more, Joel’s frustration erupted. “I just don't want to talk about it!” he snapped, his voice sharp and louder than you’d ever heard.

You flinched, your heart racing as the sudden intensity of his reaction hit you. The night, once a haven of comfort and connection, now felt oppressive, the stars above seeming distant and indifferent to the turmoil unfolding below.

Joel’s eyes widened as he saw the fear in your gaze, and his anger dissipated almost immediately, replaced by regret and sorrow. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

You tried to steady yourself, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s okay,” you whispered, though your voice wavered. “I’m sorry."

Joel’s face crumpled with remorse, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “No, no, it’s alright,” he said urgently, his hands trembling as they held you close. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You let yourself sink into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm against the sharp edges of your fear. Joel’s arms were strong and reassuring, his apologies sincere as he gently stroked your back, his touch a contrast to the harshness of his earlier words.

The night around you seemed to settle, the tension easing as Joel’s grip tightened, holding you as if he could shield you from the weight of his own emotions. The stars above continued to shine, their distant light a reminder of the vastness of the world and the smallness of your own worries in the grand scheme of things.

Joel’s voice was soft now, filled with the weight of his remorse. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I just can’t talk about it right now.”

You nestled closer against Joel, the warmth of his body enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. “It’s okay, Joel,” you murmured softly, your voice a gentle caress against the backdrop of the night. “I’m sorry to push you, but I want you to know that I am here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right here, just like you are for me.”

Joel’s fingers brushed against your hair, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, a whisper of affection that traveled down to your cheek and finally to your lips. The kiss was brief but sweet, a promise of connection and understanding. He pulled you back into his embrace, both of you gazing up at the star-speckled sky.

The vastness of the night felt like a canvas, stretching out endlessly before you. You could feel the weight of your desires and dreams mingling with the cool night air, and a yearning for freedom began to take shape in your heart. “Joel,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “I want to go out. I want to get away from all of this. Will you come with me one day?”

The sincerity in your voice carried a longing for escape, for a fresh start where the past could no longer cast its shadow. You wanted to run away, to leave behind the chains of hurt and disappointment and start anew with Joel by your side. The dream of leaving it all behind, just the two of you, was intoxicating—a chance to be free from the constraints of your everyday lives and the ghosts of your pasts.

Joel’s eyes met yours, a flicker of determination lighting up his features. He could see the raw honesty in your gaze, the hope that shimmered like the stars above. “I promise you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere, “one day, we will. We’ll get out of here and start fresh. Just you and me.”

You felt a flutter of relief and happiness at his words, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your heart. The idea of a future together, unburdened by the past, seemed within reach now, a possibility painted against the backdrop of the night sky. Joel’s promise was a beacon of hope, a light guiding you through the darkness.

You lay there, side by side, under the vast expanse of the universe, the stars shining brightly above you. The night felt endless, full of potential and promise. The warmth of Joel’s presence, the softness of his touch, and the certainty of his promise wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, making the future seem just a little bit brighter.

In the quiet moments that followed, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life, one where the past was a distant memory and the present was filled with endless possibilities. With Joel by your side, the journey ahead felt less daunting, and the dreams of escape and freedom seemed like they could one day become a beautiful reality.

***

The sun cast a warm, golden light over the school grounds as you and your classmates, including Emma, practiced your dance routines for the upcoming church event. The afternoon air was filled with the sounds of music and the rustle of your movements as you and your friends rehearsed, perfecting every step and spin. The new Pastor Ben, fresh from Mexico with his wife Jemima, observed with an encouraging smile, his presence adding an extra layer of excitement to the practice.

Pastor Ben, young and charismatic, was the center of attention for many of the girls. His charm and good looks had quickly made him popular, and you could see why. Though you knew he was married, the admiration from your friends was palpable. Jemima, his wife, had been less present in the community, focusing on settling into their new life. You hadn’t interacted with her much, and you were more familiar with Ben’s friendly demeanor and the sparkle in his eyes that made him somehow likable among your friends.

As the practice came to a close, you and Emma walked outside the school, discussing the day’s rehearsals and sharing your thoughts on the choreography. The conversation was light-hearted, filled with giggles and the occasional sigh as you both reflected on the challenges and progress made.

Suddenly, Pastor Ben appeared beside you, his presence both surprising and pleasant. “Afternoon, girls. How did the practice go today?” he asked, his attention clearly focused on you.

You could feel the warmth of his gaze as he continued, “Any difficulties? How are you finding the choreography?”

You answered, your voice steady but with a hint of nervousness, “We’re making good progress. There were a few tricky moves, but we’re getting there.”

Ben nodded, his eyes never straying far from you. “You’re doing really well. I’ve noticed you’ve been putting in a lot of effort. It shows.”

Emma, ever the enthusiastic friend, chimed in, “Oh, we’re just working hard! It’s been a lot of fun, though. Don’t you think Pastor Ben has been so encouraging?”

Ben smiled at her but turned his attention back to you. “I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to check in and see how everyone’s doing. Is there anything you need help with?”

You felt a mix of emotions—flattered by his attention but also a bit uncomfortable given the context of the situation. Ben’s genuine interest was clear, but it was hard not to feel like you were under a spotlight.

“Thank you, Pastor Ben. I think we’re okay for now. It’s just a matter of practice,” Emma said.

He nodded, “If any of you ever need any extra guidance or just want to talk, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here to help.”

As Pastor Ben walked away, you felt a twinge of relief mixed with lingering confusion. You were still processing the interaction when Ellie’s familiar voice broke through, startling you slightly.

“Oh, that’s Pastor Ben,” Ellie said, a playful tone in her voice. She tapped you on the shoulder, making Emma and you turn to face her.

Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yep, that’s the new hot pastor,"

Ellie looked between you and Emma with a knowing smile. “So, what’s the gossip on Pastor Ben?”

Before Emma could answer, you asked Ellie if she was heading home. Ellie shook her head, her excitement palpable. “Nope, I’m going out with Joel. We’re going to practice shooting. You know, for deer hunting. Joel and I usually do this.”

Just then, the sound of a truck horn pierced the air, and Ellie waved enthusiastically. “Ah, there’s Joel now. See you later, guys!”

You watched as Ellie walked toward the truck, your gaze meeting Joel’s for a brief moment. You tried to hide your blush, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest whenever Joel was near.

Emma then suddenly said, "Ah the town's DILF,"

You choked caught off guard. “What did you just say?”

Emma laughed, leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, DILF—‘Dad I’d Like to’—you know the type. Joel’s like the ultimate Southern gentleman. He’s got that rugged charm. He looks like he works with his hands, and I bet he smells like Marlboro Reds. Everyone’s talking about how lucky Ellie is. Goddamn, he's just hot,"

You felt your cheeks flush deeper, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “Emma, stop. He’s much older than us.”

Emma raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh come on, you’re telling me you’ve never thought about Joel that way? I mean, he’s your dad’s best friend in high school, but just tell me you have right?”

You glared at Emma, trying to hide the twinge of jealousy you felt. “Emma, that’s inappropriate."

Emma pouted in mock innocence. “Oh, come on! Don’t be so uptight. We’re just talking. I’m sure you’ve had some thoughts, especially with how close you are with Joel right?"

You shook your head, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions bubbling inside you. “Seriously, Emma, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Emma grinned, undeterred. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. But you have to admit, Joel’s a pretty interesting guy.”

You gave her a half-smile, trying to brush off the teasing. “Emma..."

Emma’s grin remained as she walked alongside you, her excitement infectious despite your lingering discomfort. You both made your way home, your thoughts tangled with the events of the day.

As you approached your house, Emma’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Hey, you know what? My parents are out tonight. How about a sleepover at my place? We can hang out and have some fun. It’ll be a nice break before graduation.”

You hesitated, “I don’t know, Em. I’ve got a lot to prepare for graduation.”

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. Jim will be there too, and he’s a blast. Plus, you’ll have me to keep you entertained. What’s the harm?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your reluctance. “I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

Emma’s expression softened as she playfully pleaded. “Oh, please. It’ll be fine. Just come hang out. If you don’t, my parents might not let Jim over if it's just both of us. Pretty please?”

You sighed, weighing your options. Emma’s persistence was hard to resist, and you knew it would be a good chance to take your mind off things. “Alright, alright. I’ll come. But let me ask my mom first.”

Emma’s face lit up with joy. “Yes! Thank you! I promise we’ll have a great time.”

As you walked inside your house, you found your mom in the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner for herself. The smell of food filled the air, a comforting reminder of home.

“Mom, Emma invited me to a sleepover at her house tonight,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Is it okay if I go?”

Your mom looked up, her face reflecting mild surprise but also understanding. “A sleepover? Well, I suppose it’s fine. Just be sure to come home early tomorrow."

You nodded, relieved by her response. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back early.”

With your mother’s approval, you quickly gathered your things and headed back outside to meet Emma. Her excitement was palpable as she waited for you by the front gate.

“Great! Let’s go!” Emma chirped, grabbing your hand and leading the way.

As you walked to Emma’s house, your mind was still clouded by the earlier events. The thought of spending the evening with Emma and Jim was a welcome distraction from the swirl of emotions you had been feeling. You hoped it would be a chance to relax and clear your head before facing whatever came next.

Hours later, the three of you were lounging in Emma’s cozy living room, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows on the walls. After an exciting board game session, you settled down to watch "Gone with the Wind." Emma and Jim sat close together on the couch, their whispered conversations blending with the movie's dialogue. You tried to focus on the screen, but their growing intimacy was hard to ignore.

Emma giggled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You glanced over just in time to see them exchanging a tender kiss. Their kisses grew more passionate, and soon they were making out fervently. You turned your attention back to the movie, trying to block out the sounds of their affection, but it was no use.

"I'm going to take Jim to my bedroom," Emma said, her cheeks flushed. "Is it okay if you stay here alone?"

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yeah, it's fine. I want to finish the movie anyway."

Emma smiled and led Jim to her room, leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room. The hours passed slowly, the film a distant backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Their muffled voices and occasional moans filtered through the walls, filling you with a mix of curiosity and discomfort.

The next morning, you woke early and decided to make breakfast for everyone. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the kitchen as you worked. Emma was the first to join you, her hair tousled and eyes bright.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, giving you a warm smile. “Did you have fun playing board games last night?”

You returned her smile, feeling a genuine sense of friendship. "Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for inviting me."

Emma smiling to you, "You're a good friend," you smiled at her.

You hesitated at first, then asked the question that had been on your mind. "So, uh... about last night... did you and Jim...?"

Emma blushed slightly but didn't shy away. "You mean, am I not a virgin anymore? Yes. and I'm really in love with Jim. He's so kind and supportive. We’re thinking about getting married after we graduate, moving to a big city like Austin or Houston to start our lives together. He can work in a garage, and I'll stay home."

Her words made you think of Joel, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. "Have you ever been in love?" Emma asked, noticing your pensive expression.

“I don’t know,” you replied hesitantly. “I think about someone a lot, but I’m not sure what it means.”

“And have you ever... you know, had sex?” Emma asked.

Your body tensed, the memory of Jamie’s forceful actions coming to mind. You decided to lie and shook your head.

“Typical preacher’s daughter, stay pure, hon,” Emma said, her tone sincere rather than mocking.

You swallowed, feeling a mix of discomfort and curiosity. “How does it feel like?”

Emma’s expression softened. “Well, when you’re with someone you truly care about, it can be really special. It’s not just about the physical aspect, but the emotional connection. It’s like sharing something deeply personal with someone you love and who loves you back. It can feel very intimate and fulfilling.”

You nodded, trying to understand her words. “But isn’t it scary? Does it hurt?”

Emma smiled gently. “It can be, especially the first time. But when you’re with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe, it’s a lot easier. It’s important that you feel comfortable and loved.”

You took in her words, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “What if I’m not ready for that yet?”

Emma reassured you. “That’s completely okay. There’s no rush. It’s important to wait until you feel ready and comfortable. And remember, there are other ways to show affection and care for someone.”

You felt a bit of relief. “Like what?”

Emma leaned in slightly, her voice gentle. “Like, for example, giving him oral pleasure. It’s a way to show that you care about him and want to make him feel good. But it’s really important that you’re comfortable with whatever you choose to do. Communication and mutual respect are key in any relationship.”

You blushed, feeling a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. “I don’t know much about that. It sounds kind of… complicated.”

Emma smiled warmly. “It can seem that way, but you’ll learn what feels right for you and your partner as you go along. The most important thing is to have open conversations and make sure you’re both on the same page.”

You nodded, absorbing her advice. “Thanks for explaining."

Emma’s words lingered in your mind as you processed what she had said. The idea of intimacy was something you hadn’t explored deeply, shaped by the teachings you’d grown up with. Your father’s sermons had painted it as an ultimate sin, a taboo wrapped in layers of guilt and religious doctrine. The notion of sex had always been shadowed by the fear of moral failure, a breach of sacred promises that could never be undone.

Emma’s perspective, however, was a stark contrast. She spoke of intimacy as a beautiful, shared experience between two people who cared deeply for each other. It wasn’t just a physical act but a manifestation of affection and connection. It was a way to express love, to show that you cherish someone in the most personal and vulnerable way.

You thought about Joel, and how his kindness had touched you. His presence was like a gentle light breaking through a stormy sky—offering warmth, comfort, and a sense of security you had rarely felt before. The idea of pleasing him, of sharing something deeply intimate, seemed like a way to express your gratitude, to show him how much you valued his care and support.

It was as if you were standing at the edge of a beautiful, uncharted garden, its entrance hidden behind a veil of mist and uncertainty. The garden represented a space of connection, where the blossoms of affection and mutual respect could flourish. The thought of stepping into this garden with Joel was both thrilling and daunting. It was a step into the unknown, where the flowers of shared experiences and emotional intimacy awaited.

You contemplated the possibility of finding a way to share this garden with Joel, to offer him a gesture of affection that went beyond words. Maybe through a physical expression of care, you could bridge the gap between your feelings and his, creating a shared space where love could grow and flourish.

Emma’s reassurance and gentle explanations provided a new perspective, one that allowed you to see intimacy not as a forbidden act but as a potential expression of love and appreciation. You wondered if perhaps, in time, you could navigate this new terrain with Joel, guided by mutual respect and deep affection.