#i'll be so fr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sematarygirls · 1 month ago

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COWBOY!RAFE x FEM!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ oral (m! receiving), reader is kinda sheltered, mommy issues, parental death, running away from home, getting picked up by a handsome stranger

NOTES .ᐟ this was pretty fun to write tbh. i started this like a year ago and recently found it in my drafts, which led me here, so i hope yall enjoy it as much as i do.

Your worn cowboy boots thudded against the asphalt as you walked down the deserted country road, dragging your suitcase along. The summer sun shone brightly overhead, heating the atmosphere and causing a thin layer of sweat to coat your body. Your daddy's old cowboy hat sat atop your head, shielding your face from the sun's unrelenting, unforgiving rays. A loose white sundress swished softly with every step you took, slowly making your way farther and farther from your old life.

The death of your beloved father sent your already troubled mother into a state of disrepair. You watched as the mother that had sung you soft lullabies and stayed with you until you fell asleep transformed into someone you didn't recognize.

Most nights, you weren't sure where she was or if she was even alive until she inevitably came stumbling home in a drunken stupor through the front door of your little farmhouse in bumfuck nowhere, the screen door slamming behind her and startling you awake.

On the rare occasion that you saw her, she seemed to look through you. Her eyes were sunken with dark circles underneath them that greatly contrasted how bright and full of life they once had been. She was a shell of the woman she once was.

You tried your best to be there for her, but eventually, you realized that she wasn't going to change. She didn't want to get better, and you couldn't force her to.

On your eighteenth birthday, you made a difficult decision. You had been weighing it for a long time, wondering if you were doing the right thing. You wondered if your dad would be disappointed in you, if he would've wanted you to stay, but eventually, you knew that you had to do what was best for you.

You couldn't handle the constant worrying, only to be greeted with a cold shoulder the few times you did see your mother. You felt like you'd never have a life of your own in that house, suffocated by the memories of the happy family that once lived within the walls. You needed to start fresh—to give yourself the opportunity to be something more than a small town drunk like your mom.

You were leaving, and you were never coming back.

And for the first time in a long time, you had something to look forward to. You had a future that didn't revolve around taking care of someone else. You had hope that you could find something better out there, something more than this lonely life you'd grown so accustomed to.

You grabbed an old suitcase from the basement and threw it onto your bed. Opening it, your heart ached as you saw your name written in black sharpie on the light brown fabric. It was written in your father's handwriting, little doodles of stars and hearts surrounding it. For a moment, you had second thoughts about your decision, but ultimately, you pushed them away. you knew he would've wanted you to live a life worth something. He wouldn't want you to be confined to this house, worrying whether your mother would make it home every night.

You packed an assortment of clothing and little items that held sentimental value to you. You knew you had to choose carefully because there was only so much you could bring. Rifling around in your closet, you discovered your father's old cowboy hat. You stuffed it into the way back the day of his funeral, never wanting to see it again, but now, you knew you needed it more than ever.

It served as a reminder of home—not the house you were running away from, but the home that had once been filled with life and love. It reminded you of cold winter nights spent huddled by the fire and spooky stories told during thunderstorms. It reminded you of dancing in the kitchen while the three of you prepared dinner and listening to the rock station with a popsicle in hand as you curiously watched your dad work on his truck. It reminded you of a time before forehead kisses and goodnight stories were replaced by slamming screen doors and absent mothers.

You placed the hat atop your packed suitcase and went to sleep, your plan for tomorrow already set in motion. You woke up before your mother, quickly getting dressed and gathering your things before creeping into the living room. She was nowhere to be seen, probably having actually made it to her bedroom that night, but her purse was laying on the kitchen counter, a couple items spilling out from the way she had haphazardly thrown it when she got home.

Careful to not make any noise, you rummaged through, looking for her wallet. You didn't expect to find much, but you would take what you could get. After stuffing the cash you could find into your bra, so in the event that your suitcase was stolen, you'd still have something to your name, you took one last look around. You admired the height markings your father had made on the doorway, and the hole in the wall that he always swore he'd get around to fixing after bringing in a new couch went terribly wrong. A sad smile graced your face as you said goodbye to the place that had been your only home for as long as you'd known, turning the page and getting ready to embark on your journey to a new life.

Walking through the front door with your suitcase trailing behind you was like a weight had suddenly been lifted from your shoulders. For the first time in a long time, you didn't know what would happen next, and it frightened you in a way that was exhilarating.

The sound of a car approaching made you jump a little, the sound cutting through the quiet atmosphere that had previously only been filled with the light swishing of your dress, the sound of your suitcase wheels and boots on the asphalt, and the occasional chirp of birds. It was rare to encounter people on the deserted road you were traveling down since the area you were in was secluded and a good few miles from any houses or towns, so you knew to be cautious.

You turned your head, tilting the cowboy hat up to get a better look at the approaching vehicle and it's driver. It was an old grey-blue pickup truck with a white roof, a thin layer of dirt and grime built up along the exterior. You squinted your eyes to try and get a better look at the driver as they got closer, but the glare from the sun on the windshield hindered your view.

Hesitantly, you looked away from the truck, your gaze returning forward as you waited for it to pass, but to your surprise, it didn't. You clutched your suitcase tighter as the man pulled up beside you, not stopping completely, just rolling along to keep pace with you.

When the driver rolled the window down, you turned your head to face him, continuing to walk as you studied his face. He was a handsome man; you couldn't deny that. He had bright blue eyes that shone with intrigue, his pale pink lips pulled up into a smirk that had you torn between being deeply unsettled and utterly smitten for him. His brown hair was buzzed short, and he had a bit of stubble on his chiseled jawline along with a mustache on his upper lip—something you usually wouldn't have been privy to, but he made it look effortlessly good.

"What's a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all alone?" He asked with the faintest hint of a southern drawl, looking you up and down. It should have disgusted you—a random man hitting on you in the middle of nowhere—but for some reason, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You debated on what to say. At first, you were gonna say that your mama always told you not to talk to strangers, but that sounded so childish that you immediately pushed it away. You weren't really great at talking to people. You'd often spent more time alone than with others. You simply shrugged, deciding against saying anything at all and making yourself sound foolish.

His gaze darted to your suitcase, finding himself intrigued and undeterred by your lack of an answer. "Where you headed, sweetheart?" He asked, continuing to drive beside you.

Truthfully, you didn't have a destination. You were just sorta planning to go wherever the wind took you, which admittedly, wasn't a very solid plan. "Anywhere but here," you said cryptically. It sounded a bit cheesy, but it was true. You just wanted to put as much distance between yourself and your childhood home as you possibly could.

His smirk widened into a full-blown grin as he leaned across the seat to throw open the passenger door. "Well, climb on in then. I can take you wherever you'd like to go," he offered, eyes glinting mischievously.

You didn't notice this, however. You weren't all that great at reading people due to your sheltered upbringing. You had gone to school, but it was a small one that you'd dropped out of at sixteen to try and take care of your mother.

You looked over at him, your eyes filled with hesitance as you nervously chewed your lip. You may have been a little naive, but you weren't completely stupid. You knew how unsafe it could be to catch a ride from a stranger. "That's awful kind of you, but... well, I don't think I should."

His demeanor didn't falter, an air of confidence surrounding him—like he was used to getting what he wanted, even if it took a little convincing. "I get it, darlin'," he nodded understandingly. "A pretty thing like you can't be too careful nowadays, but I promise you I ain't gonna hurt ya. Can't say the same for others, though."

Your eyes widened a bit at his words, and for the first time, you seemed to be able to look past your rose-colored glasses. You were a young woman walking alone in the middle of nowhere—an easy and vulnerable target to anyone that could have wanted to hurt you.

"Look, I ain't tryna scare ya," he said, seeming to notice the fear that his words had ignited within you. "But... well, there's a whole lotta bad people out here, sweetheart. I'd hate to go home and find that pretty face on the news or somethin'."

"Well, how do I know that you ain't some serial killer?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow. You stopped walking to face him fully, to which he abruptly stepped on the breaks.

"Serial killers don't usually offer their victim's rides now do they?" He grinned wolfishly, leaning back and draping his arm over the passenger's seat. "I reckon they usually take by force, but I s'pose I wouldn't know since I ain't one."

A frown tugged at your lips, your eyebrows furrowing in thought for a moment. "I guess you're right..." You didn't really know much about serial killers either if you were being honest. Well, not enough to know how they rounded up their victims anyway.

He grinned wider, as if he could tell that you were doubting yourself, and he found it amusing. "So, how 'bout it then? You gonna get in?"

"Promise you ain't gonna like kidnap me or somethin'?" You asked softly, apparently trusting that he would tell the truth.

His grin softened into a warm smile, and he chuckled lowly as he brought his free hand up to place over his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

You nodded, seeming to accept this as an accurate description of his intentions or rather, lack thereof. You picked up your suitcase and put it into his truck bed, all the while he watched you intently, his gaze lingering on the tantalizing view of thigh that your dress provided.

You climbed into the passenger's seat, pulling the cowboy hat off your head and placing it on the dash before closing the door and buckling yourself in. You weren't really sure where this handsome stranger was going to take you, and that's when it dawned on you that you had gotten into his car without even knowing his name.

You looked over at him, finding him already staring intently at you. You offered a shy smile, your fingers playing with the hem of your dress as you softly told him your name.

"Pleasure to meet you," he said, his deep southern drawl causing your name to roll off his tongue with a warmth akin to the way the summer sun had heated your skin. He put the truck in gear, the engine purring as he continued down the desolate highway. "Name's Rafe," he introduced himself, his gaze darting to you.

"The pleasure's all mine Mr. Rafe," you said politely. The man was not that much older than you—maybe two or three years—and thus was probably nowhere near old enough to regard as Mr, but you were taught that it was respectful to do so.

He grinned at the title, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "Just Rafe's fine, darlin'," he insisted, casting you a sideways glance, his gaze lingering on your lips as you smiled shyly.

"Okay," you nodded, looking down at your lap as you fiddled with your dress. Rafe was awfully handsome, the hottest guy you'd ever seen by a longshot—not that that was a huge feat—and you found yourself extremely nervous with the fact that you were alone with him.

"So, what are you doin' out here all alone?" He asked, casting you a questioning glance as he took his eyes off the road briefly. "You didn't say earlier." His gaze fell to your lap, watching as your fingertips brushed the edge of your dress repeatedly, the fabric having ridden up due to your sitting position and revealed even more of your soft looking thighs.

You shrugged in response, just as you had earlier. You didn't really know how to explain your situation, and you hardly wanted to trauma dump on someone you barely knew, especially when you'd be in such close quarters for God knows how long. "I'm just... travelin'."

"Travelin'?" He echoed curiously, quirking an eyebrow. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his gaze dropped to your thighs once more, the fabric of your dress inching up even more as you absentmindedly fiddled with it. He knew he shouldve been focused on the road and not his pretty passenger, but you were making it hard—in more ways than one. "What's got you on the road by yourself?"

"It's a long story," you mumbled, looking up and casting your gaze out the window, watching the scenery blur by as he did 80 on the interstate.

He hummed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically as he looked back at the road. "You runnin' from somethin', sugar?" He asked curiously, your evasive nature leading him to believe that there was more to the story.

You rubbed your sweaty palms on your dress, something your father would have scolded for being unladylike. Your gaze darted to the cowboy hat on the dash as you spoke. "More like runnin' toward somethin'."

"Toward?" He asked curiously. "So, where you headed then?" He prompted, his fingers stilling their movements as he looked over at you again, trying to read your expression.

A smile pulled at your lips as you turned to him, your eyes locking for a moment. "It's more of a... metaphorical somethin'."

His eyebrows raised, intrigued by your cryptic response. Everything about you seemed to intrigue him. You were one big mystery wrapped up in just about the prettiest package he'd ever seen. "Metaphorical, huh?"

"Yknow, you got this tendency to just repeat what I say back to me in question form," you grinned, your tone slightly teasing as you settled more comfortably into conversation with the man. You examined his side profile carefully as he turned back to the road.

"And you got a tendency to talk in circles," he replied with a grin of his own, his eyes flicking back to you briefly before returning to the road. He liked looking at you, even if for a brief moment.

You thought for a moment, deciding that perhaps Rafe deserved a bit of an explanation, given that he was nice enough to give you a ride and all. "I ain't going nowhere specific," you shrugged, your eyes finding the cowboy hat again. "Just... looking for somethin' bigger, somethin' better, I s'pose."

"Bigger and better than what?" He prompted, casting another sideways glance at you. His gaze lingered on the way your lips parted as you spoke, feeling himself twitch in his jeans. He was a man that liked understanding things. He didn't like being on the outside looking in. He wanted to know everything. He was curious; it was in his nature.

"The life I had before," you said, your tone growing solemn, gaze never wavering from the worn cowboy hat as memories flashed before you.

He noted your shift in demeanor and the way you were staring at the hat like you were willing it to turn into something. "What's the deal with that?" He asked, feeling like he needed to know.

"It was my daddy's old hat," you smiled reverently. "He um- he died a couple years back," you explained, clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away to look out the window.

"I'm sorry, sugar," he said sympathetically. He wasn't the best at comforting people, but he wanted to try. He took one hand off the wheel, placing it atop one of yours on your lap, and as much as it was not the time, he couldn't help the way his dick hardened further at the feeling of your soft skin under his rough, calloused hand.

"'s fine," you felt your cheeks warm at the feeling of his large, warm hand on yours. Despite yourself and the topic of conversation, butterflies erupted in your stomach.

He left his hand there, feeling a bit like he was taking advantage of the situation but unable to pull himself away. He liked the way your lips parted and your eyes widened ever so slightly when he touched you. "So you're both runnin' toward and away from somethin' then?"

"Yeah, I s'pose," you nodded. He reluctantly pulled his hand back to the steering wheel, readjusting himself in his seat to find a more comfortable position for his hard-on. You found yourself missing his touch, his skin leaving a lingering sensation on yours.

He was hyper-aware of every little movement and sound you made. The way you shifted in your seat, the little hitch in your breath, the way your thighs pressed together. He swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the road, his jaw clenching as he tried to get a handle on his body's reaction to you.

"So, what about you?" You prompted, glancing over at him. You had told him a bit about yourself and thought it only fair you got some information in return.

"Me?" He asked, his voice a bit gruff. He cleared his throat, trying not to let his gaze wander to the way your dress's neckline dipped, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your chest. "Well, I'm headin' home. I've been away for a couple months, workin' on a ranch up north." He said, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he continued to drive.

You hummed in acknowledgement. "Did you like it?" You asked awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say. You weren't awfully good at carrying conversations.

"It was alright. Good money, good people, but it ain't home." He said with a small shrug. "'Sides, I got a lot of responsibilities back home. Family 'n all that. Couldn't stay away forever."

You nodded, listening to him explain. You were a little intrigued. You'd never been anywhere outside your home town. You yearned to travel, to see what the world—or at very least the country—had to offer beyond small town gossip and local church services.

He glanced at you, wondering what was going on inside that pretty little head of yours. He wanted to know more about you, wanted to know everything. He wanted to know what you were planning to do now, why you'd actually run from home, what you tasted like, how you'd sound moaning his name, how tight you'd be wrapped around him.

You pondered your next steps during this beat of comfortable silence. You were starving, so food seemed like it needed to be the first stop on this little roadtrip of yours. Then, you figured you'd find a bus stop and hop on the first bus outta town, letting fate decide where to take you.

As you sat there lost in thought, he was watching you intently between bouts of watching the road. He noticed the way your gaze would occasionally drift out the window, the way your hands would fidget with the hem of your dress, the way your lips would purse slightly as you seemed to be debating something in your head.

"You can just drop me at the next town," you finally spoke up, turning to look back at him as you seemed to have made up your mind. A semblance of a plan was better than no plan at all. Besides, what would this new life be without a little of the unknown. You had no idea when you left that morning that you'd run into a handsome cowboy, and that had turned out to be incredibly thrilling for you.

He frowned at the prospect of you leaving him so soon. You'd only just met, but he found himself wanting to spend more time with you. "The next town?" He repeated, echoing your words back to you again like he'd done before. "And, what's the plan when you get there, huh, sweetheart?"

"Gonna catch a bus," you shrugged noncommittally. "Go wherever the wind takes me."

He let out a short, humorless laugh, clearly expressing his disproval for your so-called plan. "You ain't never been nowhere before, have you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. You seemed so innocent, so naive. He couldn't just let you wander off alone, could he?

"Well... no," a small frown tugged at your lips. "But that's kinda the whole point of goin' where the wind takes me," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shook his head, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "That's a fool-proof way to end up in some real trouble, you know. A pretty little thing like yourself, wanderin' 'round alone. You could end up anywhere, with anyone."

"Well, thus far, I've ended up here, with you," you pointed out with a small smile. "So, I'd say my plan is workin' pretty well so far."

"That's only 'cause I'm a gentleman," he said, his eyes flicking briefly to yours. You couldn't help but wonder what if he wasn't such a gentleman. You weren't completely naive. You knew about sex and had always wondered what it was like, and now, with this incredibly sexy man before you, you found your thoughts particularly impure.

He watched the way your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, the way your breathing picked up ever so slightly. He could practically see the wheels turning in that head of yours. "What're you thinkin' 'bout, sugar?"

"Oh, um, nothin'," you said softly, your body heating up as his voice, so low and husky—definitely not helping your situation—tore you from your thoughts.

"Nothin', huh?" He drawled, not believing you for a second. He had been with enough women to know that look on your face, and he was pretty sure he had a good idea of where your thoughts were headed.

You bit your lip nervously. You knew he had at least some attraction to you because you had eyes. You could see the bulge in his jeans but had done everything you could to resist staring at it, despite the growing urge to reach out and touch it. You wanted to see him, feel him, maybe even taste him, but you were completely out of your depth here.

"You're thinkin' 'bout somethin' that's makin' you bite your lip and press them pretty little thighs together," he said, his voice low and sultry. "So, why don't you just tell me what it is, hmm?"

You looked over at him, your eyes widened a bit at his forward words, also at the fact that he had noticed. Though, it wasn't exactly like you were being discrete. "Wh- I- well, it's not very ladylike," you replied sheepishly.

"Sugar, there ain't nothin' ladylike 'bout the way I'm feelin' right now either," he said, his hand moving from the steering wheel to rest high up on your thigh.

You couldn't help but laugh at his choice of words, looking up at him through your lashes as you tried to find the words. "I don't know how to um- say it." You said, your heart beating nervously in your chest at a speed that doctors would probably find concerning.

"Then show me," he encouraged, his hand slowly inching higher up on your thigh. "You can do that, can't you? Show me what you were thinkin' about?"

You hesitated before nodding. You couldn't believe you were about to give a man you'd just met head for the first time in your life, but your body was moving quicker than your brain, unbuckling your seatbelt. You pulled your legs onto the seat underneath you, kneeling on the worn leather with your body facing him. You looked at him for confirmation before you made another move.

"Atta girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair encouragingly. "Go on, sugar. Show me what that pretty mouth can do." He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider to give you better access.

The lack of center console in the old truck was a blessing as your fingers fumbled with his belt. You were already nervous, and you knew you didn't have to tell him that you'd never done this before because it was written all over your face.

He watched with an amused smirk as you struggled with his belt for a moment. He found your inexperience endearing. After a beat, you finally managed to undo his belt, your shaky hands moving to his jeans, popping the button and unzipping them with much more ease.

"That's it, baby. You're doin' just fine," he encouraged, his voice strained with barely contained desire. His hips lifted slightly to help you tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock, the tip flushed and glistening with precum. You took in a sharp breath, your eyes widening a little. You'd seen one before but never in person and never quite that big.

"Wrap your hand around it, sugar," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. His hand tightened in your hair as you wrapped your hand around the base tentatively. "Just like that. Now, stroke it. Nice and slow." You followed his directions, slowly running your hand up and down his hard length, coaxing a low groan from his throat as his hips jumped just a little at the feeling of your soft hand on him.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest and his grip on the wheel tightening. "Now, put that pretty mouth on me." You wrapped your lips around his hot tip, sucking gently and coaxing his precum onto your tongue.

"Mmmm... That's it, sugar. Just like that," he praised, trying to keep his eyes on the road and the truck in the correct lane. His hand guided your head, his hips gently bucking forward as he slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. "You're doin' so good, baby."

Your fingers flexed around the base of his cock, your grip tightening ever so slightly as yoy took more of him into your mouth, your brows furrowing in concentration while you did. "Relax your throat, baby. You can take more of me," he coached gently, his hand tightening in your hair. You did as he said, trying to relax and take more of him into your warm, wet mouth. "That's it, sugar."

The combined sounds of your heavy breathing mingled with the wet noises his cock was making as it slid in and out of your mouth. You gagged a little as the tip of his cock nudged your uvula, triggering your body's built-in safety feature against choking.

He felt you gag and knew he should have pulled you back, reassured you that you could go as slow as you needed to and that there was no need to rush, but shit, you felt so good and seemed so eager; he couldn't bring himself to stop you.

He kept pushing forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. He could feel your throat constricting around his length, and it was the most incredible feeling. You whimpered around him, your nails digging into his thighs and eyes watering, but still, you didn't pull away.

Your little whimper only spurred him on, sending a vibration through him that had him moaning, his grip on your hair bordering on painful. "You're taking it so well, baby," he praised, his voice strained with pleasure. "Shit, I'm so close."

Not long after, his hips jerked forward, and he held you in place, his cock buried in your throat as he came hard with a groan, his hot cum shooting down your throat in thick, salty streams. The unfamiliar taste clung to your tongue, even after you forced the warm liquid down your throat and pulled off of him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He sat there for a moment, trying to catch his breath and calm his racing heart before he tucked himself back into his pants with one hand, his other keeping the truck steady. "You did so good, sugar. Real good." He murmured, his voice still husky from his orgasm.

You felt a wave of satisfaction roll over you at his praise, but you didn't know exactly what to do from here. Your plans hadn't changed just because you decided to expand your sexual horizons in the front seat of a barely-stranger's truck. Though, it felt a little awkward still asking him to let out you out at the nearest town after what you'd just done.

"We'll be comin' up to the next town soon," he said, as if reading your mind. "How 'bout you let me take you out for a bite to eat, and afterwards, if you still want me to drop you at the bus station, I'll oblige," he proposed, willing to do anything to spend more time with you.

You smiled, nodding. That seemed like a perfectly reasonable request to you. Besides, you had already planned on stopping for food before heading to the bus station anyway. "Okay, that sounds nice," you agreed softly, buckling yourself back in because safety first.

"I know a real good diner in town. They serve the best burgers and milkshakes this side of the Mississippi," he said with a grin, placing his hand back on your thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth across your skin. Your smile widened, stomach doing flips at his touch, and you found yourself thinking that maybe your adventure could wait just a little while if it meant spending more time in the handsome cowboy's presence.

tags .ᐟ @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee /

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