#your truck breaks on the side of the road in the middle if nowhere

[sparklehoard]

One of my coworkers is missing

[citrusrei]

a lil' something sweet

Farmhand! Joel x Married! Reader

summary: After your husbands aunt passes away, he takes on the responsibility of caring after the beloved family farm. Coming from the city after living there your whole life to moving to a huge farm in the middle of nowhere is a shock to you. But what shocks you even more is the comfort you find from the live-in farmhand, Joel Miller.

word count: 25.5k

warnings/tags: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. no outbreak AU. non canon Joel. country side on a farm type shit. Joel is a lonely man. Kinda creepy but in a sexy way. heavy petting. thigh riding. Joel finishes in his pants. Infidelity (oops). joel's possessive but not in a toxic way (outloud). unprotected p-in-v sex. creampies. slight breeding kink if you squint right. age gap. reader is mid to late 20's and joel is pushin' 50. petnames (baby, baby doll, baby girl, darlin', ya know). readers husband is a real dick. slight fatshaming (we hate the husband). joel makes it better. lots of soft touches and kisses. fluffy, angsty, smutty. happy ending. (no y/n, reader is AFAB. minimal physical descriptions)

a/n: this was fun to write cause desperate, needy joel is my absolute favorite thing. also the word count makes me go brrr cause wdym it's so long?? and while we don't usuallyyy fuck with infidelity, it was warranted here. please pay attention to the warnings if you don't like any of what is mentioned, don't read it. thank u all tho and i hope u enjoy it ~

this was a long mf time coming

-

You were never a fan of the countryside. Being somewhere so far from civilization terrified you. What do you mean the nearest big grocery store was over an hour away… in each direction? So, when your husband told you his Aunt Karla had passed, and that he’d be taking care of the family farm, you began to panic. You were sympathetic of course and consoled him as best you could, but leaving the city? Hell, you'd even considered divorce; it was that serious. Not really, but almost.

The drive was long and tiring. You’d rented a moving truck and packed all your belongings from your hometown and drove the seven hours it took to reach his aunt's farm. Anxiety set in almost immediately as the tall buildings and fast-food restaurants on every other corner disappeared. Trees and fields and wildflowers surrounded your view as the long and narrow highway seemed to go on forever. Your husband, Luke, decided to make a few pit stops for gas or bathroom breaks, even a quick fuck in the front seat on the side of the road- which, you weren’t really all that into.

Seven grueling hours later, the farm came into view. It was a lot larger than what you thought it was going to be. The two-story farm home sat in the middle of the plot of land, surrounded by lots of trees. A big, peeling red barn sat to the left and to the right, at least two or three horses roamed in a fenced area. What was Luke thinking? You had never stepped foot on a farm in your life besides maybe an elementary school field trip 20 years ago. How did he think you’d be able to handle a barn full of animals?

Luke parked the moving van in front of the house which sat on a hill. Concrete stairs led up to the front door and you sighed, dreading the trips back and forth. Luke gave you a pointed look before sighing himself.

“Listen… we’re doing my family a favor by taking over the farm. And it's not going to be forever. Just a couple years and then when Nick gets back from the Marines, he said he’d take it and then we’ll head back to the city, okay?” Luke says in annoyance, mentioning his brother. You nod, grabbing your purse from the front seat and heading up the stairs to check the house out.

Stepping inside felt surreal, like you’d gone into a different decade as you gazed at all the antique furniture, hutches with fine China, and flowered wallpaper. You couldn’t help but let out a deep breath as you set your purse down, walking into the kitchen. It was nice and quaint, and honestly it made you feel some semblance of comfort as you took in the marble counter tops and Chicken themed decorations.

You loved to cook and bake, and as you saw the built-in pasta maker on the counter and the bread oven on the far wall, you had a thought that maybe you could do this. Maybe you could make this work.

After a moment, Luke steps inside as you wander around the house, noting the three bedrooms and the two and a half baths the home has to offer. He huffs out heavily, setting down three boxes stacked on one another. “Uh, honey? Are you going to help or what?” he asks, a bit of bite to his tone.

“Sorry, I was just checking everything out. The master bedroom is nice! But it’s kinda stuffy in here. Where do I turn the AC on?” You ask curiously only to be met with a scowl. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you wait for him to answer.

“Jesus… This house was made in like, 1803. There’s no air conditioning, babe. If it’s stuffy, open the windows.” Luke says as he turns around, heading back to the truck.

You throw your head back in frustration. No grocery stores nearby, no air conditioning, all these damn animals, and of course Luke being an asshole about it all. You’d been quiet about this whole thing since Luke told you, not asked, but told you he’d taken over his aunt's farm. You didn’t want to complain or make it seem like an inconvenience when he was grieving. But it was. You weren’t cut out for this life and that was okay. Unfortunately, you loved your husband and told yourself to at least give it a shot. That was a decision you were beginning to regret.

“Come on! I’m doing all the work here!” Luke yells from the truck, bringing you from your thoughts. You close your eyes for a moment longer before heading down the steps to help him. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood once you’re done setting everything up. At least you could only hope.

A few hours pass and you have most of your belongings unpacked. You’d left a lot of stuff back at your apartment in the city since your sister was going to take over your lease while you were away. All that was left to be taken care of was the bedroom stuff.

Your eyes settle on the cuckoo clock as it chimes, 6pm already. You excuse yourself from unpacking as you head downstairs to start working on dinner. Luke groans about how he’s had to do all the work all day, but lets you go downstairs to cook. Nodding, you head down the steps into the kitchen, figuring out where to start.

After Karla passed, a lot of the stuff she had was packed and separated between family members, but they left the kitchen alone. You opened the fridge, deciding to start there. It was still full of stuff, and you began to make a mental note of what ingredients you saw. A couple fresh eggs, milk, butter, some different meats and veggies. After checking the rest of the kitchen, you came up with the idea of breakfast for dinner. Waffles, eggs, and bacon.

As you got to work, you didn’t notice the back porch door swing wide open. And you definitely didn’t notice the man that came in through it. He sets a basket of farm fresh eggs on the counter, bringing you from your thoughts as you whisk together the batter.

Your eyes widen as you jump with a yelp, clutching your chest as the man stares at you with a blank expression. He doesn’t offer his hand or anything, he just stares and says, “Joel.”

As your heart settles, you nod slowly. “Your name is Joel?

Joel nods too, his eyes leaving yours as he sees Luke enter the room.

“Honey, what’s the matter, why did you yell? Oh! You’ve met Joel.” Luke smiles, “Babe, this is Joel Miller. He’s the farm hand. He takes care of the animals and stuff, cleans the farm up, gathers… eggs. He’s worked for my aunt forever.” Luke continues as his eyes glance down at the basket Joel brought in.

“Nice to meet you, Joel. Sorry, I was really concentrated on making this waffle batter I didn’t even hear you come in.” You say softly, a small smile on your lips.

“’S okay. I can be kinda quiet sometimes. I’ll holler next time I drop the eggs off.” Joel speaks. His voice is gruff and low. Somehow nostalgic, or at least that’s what you thought as your chest fills with a familiar feeling. Your eyes traveled to his as you smiled, taking in the features of this stranger.

He was older. Maybe in his early 50’s or late 40’s. He had a broad nose with a scar on the bridge. His chocolate brown eyes seem tired, but kind; inviting. His hair was dark and graying and as your eyes traveled lower, you noticed how his arms seemed to bulge under the dirtied, navy-blue shirt he was in. ‘Handsome’ was the first word to pop into your mind. You cleared your throat and looked at Luke who seemed annoyed about something. What’s new?

“Well, see you folks later. It was nice meetin’ you, sweetheart.” Joel says as he makes his leave. You watch him go before turning back to the batter, trying to finish everything up. Once dinner time finally arrives, Luke ends up complaining the entirety of the meal about how waffles are breakfast food and having them for dinner is like a crime against humanity. You think it’s funny how he eats them anyways.

The first night here sucks. It’s incredibly hot as the thick quilt on his aunt's bed sticks to your skin. Sweat beads from your forehead as you toss and turn, dripping down your neck and back. Deciding you can’t do it anymore, you throw the comforter off you and stomp downstairs, irritated by every little thing from today. The long drive, the car sex, Luke’s attitude, the heat. You head through the kitchen to the back porch, and you finally get relief in the form of the cool night breeze. You feel your sweat dry against your skin, leaving you sticky but honestly, you couldn’t care less right now. The breeze has a nip to it, signaling summers soon-to-be end, and you couldn’t wait.

Your eyes close, savoring the fresh air against your cheeks. You don’t know how much time passes but you only open them when you hear the sound of a guitar in the wind. Looking around the backyard, you notice a small guest house down the hill. It had to be Joel’s. The porch light is on, the front door open, and before you can even think, you begin to walk towards it.

The tiny home isn’t far away from the main house, but a good enough distance that you realize you probably should have put shoes on. Gravel digs into your heels, but it doesn’t hurt. The guitar becomes louder as you approach, a melancholic tune strummed from the strings. As you reach the house, doubt fills your mind. You probably shouldn’t even be here just showing up like some creep. But you also figure you’ve come this far… Plus, it’d be nice to get to know him in some capacity considering he works here on the farm you’ll be living on. Or that’s what you tell yourself.

You step quietly onto the wood porch, savoring the cool night air and the sadness of his guitar. Now that you’re closer, you can hear Joel humming too. An unsure smile etches on to your face as you walk into the doorway, working up the courage before knocking on the wood.

“Hey… sorry to bother you.” You say softly, not wanting to alarm him.

Joel looks up to you in surprise, his fingers stop against the neck of his guitar. “Oh, well, hi there. What can I do for you?”

“Oh! Nothing. I was… I was just on the back porch trying to cool off and I heard a guitar. Figured this is where you stay, and I thought I’d come and say hi. Maybe listen to you play for a bit?” You say nervously. You almost feel embarrassed. You don’t even know this man.

Joel looks a bit confused at first before nodding to the couch next to his rocking chair he’s sitting in. You pad into the house with little steps before sitting down. Your body flushes with nerves as you look at him, like you’re waiting for something to happen.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He just begins to play again, a different song this time. You settle into the plaid couch as he strums, the cool air from the front door being open blows in and you shiver. Your eyes widen as you realize you’re in your ivory, silk nightie and embarrassment floods your cheeks for real this time. Joel probably thinks you’re insane, or maybe he thinks you’re wanting to seduce him. Which, no, of course you weren't; you’re married! Red flushes against your cheeks and you subconsciously pull your nightgown down, trying to cover your knees.

Joel plays for a while before speaking. He clears his throat, hesitating a moment, “So… you know who George Jones is?” He asks. You shake your head, a smile on your lips. “No, can’t say I do. Who is he?”

He smiles softly too, at least you think it’s a smile. “He was a country singer… Old country singer from way before you were even a twinkle in your mama’s eyes. Has a lot of sad songs, which I like to play, I guess. But uh… 'was just wondering if you knew his music. I'll play one of his songs for you.” You nod curiously, adjusting your body to give him your full attention.

The song starts off slow, his fingers moving expertly along the frets of the guitar, rough voice singing low.

“He said, ‘I’ll love you till I die’. She said, ‘You’ll forget in time’. As the years went slowly by, she still preyed upon his mind.”

Your eyes widen at the lyric's, realizing Joel was probably right. This was a sad song. You weren’t expecting him to sing either. But you didn’t mind it. It was really nice actually. It was so melodic and entrancing, you don't take notice of the dust of pink that kissed the apples of your cheeks.

You sit and listen to him perform through this song that breaks your heart and he finally gets to the chorus.

“He stopped loving her today. They placed a wreath upon his door. And soon they’ll carry him away. He stopped loving her today.”

You suck a breath quick breath, feeling your vision blur as he finishes the song. By the time it's over, your head rests in your palms against the arm of the couch, watching Joel intently as tears pool in your eyes. Joel stops, placing his hand against the strings as he looks at you, his own eyes widening at the shimmer in yours.

“Wait-what’s wrong, darli-”

“He died?” You exclaim emotionally, a tear slipping out. “That song is about a man who loves this woman even though they’re not together anymore but only stops ‘cause he dies? And she goes to his funeral?” Your eyes close as you sit up. Those welled up tears falling against your cheeks. “That’s so sad."

Joel chuckles softly, setting his guitar against the end table. “I did tell you I like to play them sad songs, did I not?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it was sad like that. Like, maybe it was about a man losing his horse. Or selling his tractor for a new one. Not about loving his soulmate and then dying!” You cry.

“’m sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to make you cry. Just thought you might like it.” He says apologetically, passing you his handkerchief from his pocket.

“No, no. I did like it. You’re talented, Joel, I just… damn… that was so… sad.” You sigh as you take the handkerchief and wipe your tears before letting your hands fall into your lap. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry. I’ve just… had a day.”

Joel’s eyebrow quirks, “That Luke boy of yours being a brat?”

Your eyes snap to the older man and you nod slightly. “I mean, kinda. He’s just… been on one lately. I think it’s the stress of moving here so quickly. I mean, we uprooted our whole lives and moved here within a week of Karla passing. It’s been a lot for both of us.” You breathe out. You hadn’t mentioned your frustrations to anyone, but it felt good to say something. You’d been keeping it in too long for your liking.

Joel sighs knowingly, “Yeah, I can imagine. Packin’ up your life then moving to a place you’ve never been before. It’s gotta be hard.” He pauses for a moment, debating his next words, “Uh, Karla loved her nephew… But Luke would come here during the summer when he was little, and he was uh… quite the handful to say the least. Seems like he still is.” Joel reaches for his glass of what you assumed to be whiskey or bourbon based on the color, the ice in the cup long melted as the condensation trickles down the sides. You pause for a moment, watching him sip on the liquid, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. You suddenly felt parched too.

“I mean he’s stubborn, sure… but he has good moments. I wouldn’t have married him if he didn’t.” You say quietly, your voice trailing off.

Joel eyes you for a second and hums in acknowledgment. “I didn’t say he didn’t have his good moments, darlin’.”

You bite your lip after he says that. You didn’t need to justify anything to him. It was just… habit. You'd always stood up for him. Luke was a good guy. You thought so at least. Maybe others didn't.

He sets his glass down on the table next to him and looks up to the clock. It reads just past one in the morning. “Well, I don’t mean to be a bad host but it’s gettin’ late. Don’t want your husband thinkin’ you gone missing on him, huh?”

Your eyes widen as you realize the time and you stand up, adjusting your nightgown again. “No, you’re right. I lost track of time. And honestly Luke might throw a fit if he wakes up and I’m not there.” You hover around the couch for a moment longer before heading towards the door. Looking back at Joel, you notice him looking right back at you. “Thanks for playing me some music. It was a well needed peaceful moment after my day. Even if you made me cry.”

Joel let’s out an amused breath, “Yeah, well, don’t get used to no personal concerts. It was a special occasion tonight for your first night here. Alright?”

“Got it. Thanks again, Joel. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Have a good night, okay?” You say as you wave and make your way back to the house, feeling slightly better than earlier. Joel nods at you, watching you make your way back inside before he shuts his own door, sighing to himself and shaking his head.

As you reach the house and shut the back door behind you, you realize you still had Joel’s green handkerchief, gripped in your palm. A sigh leaves your lips as you make a mental note to give it back to him tomorrow after washing it. You tuck it away in the laundry basket by the door and then head upstairs, making sure to be as quiet as possible as you slip back into bed. Luke turns in his sleep; throwing am arm over you. It’s comforting. Something he hasn’t done in a while. You smile as you begin to drift off, feeling safe in your husband's arms. As sleep beckons you, you don’t even realize how your thoughts drift back to your time with Joel. The way his fingers strummed against the guitar, and the way his low voice rasped the sad words of that George Jones song. Or the way he looked at you, his eyes locked on to yours as tears welled up, the softness his molasses-colored ones held.

About a month passes of the farm life and it’s really not so bad. Yeah, you kinda hate the smell that lingers from the barn, and you hate that damn rooster that crows every morning at 6 on the dot. But other than that, it hasn’t been too bad. You even learn there’s a local grocery store up the road a couple miles and although the prices are up charged a bit, you’re able to get your comfort bag of Hot Cheetos here and there.

Luke has been an asshole still, sadly. Especially now that he’s working remotely, and the internet out here sucks. And now that you’re not working, since you had to quit your job before moving here, there isn’t much for you to do to pass the time.

Your days consist of cleaning the house, doing laundry, napping on the green velvet couch Karla had as old soap operas play in the background. You like to walk around the property sometimes, finding that being around nature isn’t horrible. The sound of the leaves shaking with the wind and the crickets by the creek in the back have become relaxing to you. Who would have thought?

What really has been getting you by however, is baking. Karla had dozens of cookbooks from the 60’s and 70’s all filled with interesting, and sometimes disgusting recipes. In the last month you’d made maybe 10 loaves of bread, such as pumpkin, zucchini, banana, apple cinnamon, and even an olive and ham loaf… that one was a fat no. You’d made different small cakes and tarts and while they all never went to waste; Luke never tried them. Every time you’d knock on the door with a small plate of whatever you’d made, he’d scowl, turning his nose up and then look back at his computer. It was disheartening.

But today was going to be a good day. You’d pulled your latest creation out of the oven, filling the kitchen with a sweet, homey scent. You couldn’t wait to try it. Immediately, you stuck your fork into it and then into your mouth. Despite the molten filling singing your taste buds, your eyes shut in pleasure. It was fucking delicious. Beaming down at your treat, you decided to cut Luke a slice of your very first ever, homemade cherry pie. You were so proud of it. The crumb had the perfect texture, the cherry filling had the perfect amount of tart to sweet ratio, and even the lattice was perfect, a little heart placed in the middle. You knew he was probably not going to want it, but you were going to try anyways.

After climbing the steps to where he was, you tapped against the wood of the doorway, plate and pie in hand as you smiled warmly, “Hi, honey. I made this cherry pie and it’s literally the most amazing thing I’ve ever made-”

“I don’t want any.” Luke says, cutting your sentence off. You falter a moment, but you know if he tried it, he would love it. He loves cherries.

“I think you should just have a bite! I’m telling you; you’ll like it.” You offer, stepping closer to him.

Luke sighs and you know he’s about to give you an earful, “I said I don’t want any of your damn pie,” He seethes, “You offer me everything you make, and have I accepted it once?”

Your cheeks heat up as tears prick your eyes and you kind of regret even trying to ask. You want to respond and yell back but you also don’t want to argue. You don’t know where your sweet, loving husband went and it hurts. Luke turns in his computer chair and his eyes are glazed with venom as he stares you down, “So, stop asking me. I don’t want them. You shouldn’t even be eating that shit anyways, you’re getting fat.”

Luke turns back to his computer and begins to click at the keys, clearly done with the conversation. You grip the plate in your hand, biting back the tears that threaten to spill as you go to leave the room. As soon as you step out of it, Luke shuts the door behind you. Your heart clenches in your chest as the tears fall. When did he become so cold? What had you done to make him do a 180 like this? How can you fix it? Or is it even fixable?

Questions swirl through your mind as you pad down the stairs, feeling small and wanting to coil into yourself but as you enter the kitchen, you notice Joel has stepped in. He sets the basket of a dozen or so eggs on the counter as he does every Tuesday. His eyes glance at the pie and then up to you, concern etching into his features.

Joel doesn’t want to ask what’s wrong, just cause you two still don’t know each other that well, but it’s like he can’t help himself.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’? Everythin’ okay?” He asks, eyes set tightly on your face.

Your brows knit together as you swallow back the burn of more tears in your throat and you nod, “Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry.” You say as you set the pie on the counter. Joel eyes it and he can feel his stomach begin to rumble. You notice his gaze on the pie, and you can’t help but smile. Letting out a breathy laugh, you allow yourself to relax a bit in his presence. He radiates this genuine aura, and you can’t help how it attracts you to him like a moth to a flame.

“You like pie?” You ask curiously.

Joel nods, “Yes, ma’am. Cherry is my second favorite, next to pecan, of course.”

Without hesitation, you push the plate over to Joel on the other side of the counter, “Help yourself. Luke doesn’t want it.”

Joels eyes widen in confusion, “How can a man deny a woman a slice of her homemade cherry pie? He on a diet or something?” He asks as he takes the plate and fork, diving right in. You shrug at his words, not caring anymore. You watch Joel’s reaction as he takes his first bite and it’s… something.

He chews for a moment, his eyes closing as his free hand grips the counter, “Damn…” He breathes. He goes in for another bite, bigger this time. You can feel your heart jumping at his reaction. He must like it.

“It taste okay?” You ask nervously, picking at your fingernails. He looks at you dumbfounded, like you’d asked him the silliest question in the world.

“Darlin’… does it taste okay? Have you tried it yet? Jesus, girl… best damn pie I have ever had.” He says quietly, stuffing more pie into his mouth.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and smile wider, “Don’t lie to me now, Joel.”

Joel shakes his head quickly, finishing off the big slice, his fork clanging against the plate. “Naw, I wouldn’t lie about a good pie. A damn good pie at that. I’d tell ya if it tasted anything less than decent.”

You can’t help the dumb grin on your face as he hypes your sweet treat up. It’d been a while since you got any sort of praise from anyone, and it felt nice. Your cheeks tinge with a dusty rose as you lean over, cutting the rest of the pie into slices. You save yourself one and hand Joel the rest. His eyes widen at the offer, taking the pie pan in his dirty palms.

“It’s yours. I’m really glad you enjoyed it, Joel. I’ve been baking up a storm this past month I’ve been here, and I’ve been the only one eating them. I don’t need a whole pie to myself. So, it’s all yours.” Your gaze is soft on Joel’s face, and it causes his chest to stir with something he’s not so sure of.

He clears his throat, looking back down at the delicacy he’s holding. “You sure ‘bout that? I don’t wanna be no pie thief just ‘cause you know I think it tastes good.”

A genuine laugh escapes your throat, causing his to restrict, “No, I don’t think you’re a pie thief. You’re really doing me a favor by taking it off my hands. I’m glad it’s going to someone who will enjoy it.”

Joel nods, gripping the pie pan in his hands as he looks down at it. He looks anywhere besides where you stand. “Well, ‘preciate it. You’re about as sweet as this pie is, I reckon. Luke’s got a good girl on his hands.”

Your shoulders fall as he mentions Luke and you know they shouldn’t. Even the thought of him right now fills you with intense sadness, but you push it away, nodding at his words. Joel clears his throat again, before finally looking back up to you, “Well, thank you, darlin’. I will enjoy every bit of this pie and bring the pan back when I’m done.” He turns to leave, but looks back for a moment, “And if you decide to ever try and make a pecan pie… you know where my door is.” He smiles, walking out the back door.

You find yourself reeling from the interaction and you try and convince yourself it was only because he loved your pie. It wasn’t the way his eyes closed as he savored his first taste, or the way he practically moaned in delight after every bite he took. And it definitely wasn’t the way he gripped the counter, the pie leaving him speechless, or the way you’d thought maybe that’s what his hands would look like gripped around your waist or thighs as he… your eyes widen at your thought process, and you run up the steps to jump in the shower, hoping to wash away the impure thoughts about a man who isn’t your husband. Even as you make an excuse for every thought that pops into your head about Joel, you can’t ignore the beat that drums between your legs, no matter how hard you try. No matter how hard you scrub at your skin, it’s like those images have been imprinted in your mind. Fuck.

After a long shower, a full skincare session and getting dressed in your comfiest jammies, you head back down to the kitchen to eat your slice of pie, only to be met with Luke eating it instead. His eyes wide as you walk in, mouth full of cherry filling.

“Baby, this… you outdid yourself. This is fucking good.” Luke says, a soft smile on his face. Your stomach churns as he speaks, and usually you’d be happy he was finally giving you attention. But not this time. Instead, you were pissed he ate your only slice of pie.

“Did you eat the rest of it? I need another slice. I’d skip dinner for that.” He says as he nearly runs to the fridge, searching for the remainder of the pie.

“I gave it to Joel. He brought in the eggs and said it was one of his favorites. I didn’t think you’d want it since you know, you said you didn’t.”

Luke sighs, “You gave it to Joel? The whole pie? You know I love cherries, why the hell would you do that?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, anger filling your body. “Luke, you said yourself you didn’t want any. I didn’t want it to go to waste and that slice you just ate was mine. You didn’t even ask!”

Luke rolls his eyes, slamming the door of the fridge, “I don’t need to ask you what I can and can’t eat. Make another pie.” He says as he walks past you, mumbling something about how he can’t believe you’d give another man something before him. He was unbelievable. You grab the plate he’d left on the counter and toss it into the sink, not caring if it breaks or not. You breathe out from your nose as you rest your palms against the cool marble counters, your jaw clenched tight as your foot taps against the tile. You don’t know how much longer you can take this attitude of his.

Deciding you need a distraction; you head down to Joel’s. His door is shut, but his porch light is on. That doesn’t deter you though. As you walk on to the creaky wooden porch and knock, you can feel your anger dissipate from your body. The distance from Luke was good.

Joel opens the door only a moment later, his eyes confused but his mouth upturned into a smile. “Hey, darlin’, what are you doin’ here?”

“Do you have any more pie?” You ask. Your question takes him off guard, but he nods, stepping aside to let you in.

“I got a few slices left. Gotta be honest with you; I had one or two more when I got back in an hour ago.” He says sheepishly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You turn to face him, your eyes looking into his. Joel feels his chest fill with that same thing he felt earlier. Something he still couldn’t place.

“Luke ate mine. I… I really wanted a slice, but I gave you the rest. He’s mad at me ‘cause I gave it to you.” You say as your shoulders fall. Joel laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sight of your slight pout. He thought it was cute.

“Mad, huh? Over a pie? Can’t say I blame him though. It is pretty damn good.” Joel heads into another room for a moment, which you assume is the kitchen because he comes back to the living room with a big slice of your cherry pie in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. “Sit.” he says, nodding to his couch.

You sit in the same spot you sat in the last time you were here, resting back against the cushions as Joel places the food on a TV tray and sets it in front of you. The little action has your heart racing. Something as simple as getting served a slice of pie sends your heart into a tizzy and you sigh, digging into the dessert. It was damn good.

Joel sits in his rocking chair, just like last time, but doesn’t say anything. He lets you eat in silence and once you’re done, he takes care of it too.

You don’t want to leave yet, and as you pull your knees up to your chest, you hope he doesn’t ask you to. Joel returns a moment later, a glass of water for you and a glass of that same amber liquid for him. He smiles, handing you the glass, “You look comfy.”

Your cheeks tint a shade of pink, and you take the glass from him, “I am comfy. This couch is nice.”

“Hope so. I’ve had it for probably 15-20 years. It’s well-loved for sure.” Joel says, sitting back in his rocking chair and sighing. Your eyebrows quirk as you rest your cheek against your knees.

“Man, you’ve really been here for a long time then, huh?”

Joel nods, looking at you getting comfy on his couch. There goes that feeling he can’t place. “Yeah, ‘bout 25 years at this point. I was 25 at the time I started here actually. Karla didn’t even own the place yet, it was her daddy’s. Once he passed, she took over and I stayed. She tried to convince me to stay, but she didn’t have to do that. This was my home at that point too.” He pauses, sipping his drink. “She was a good friend. Wasn’t too much older than me.” You listen intently as Joel speaks, not knowing any of this.

You nod, “Wow, I had no clue. Karla seemed like a good woman.”

“She was. Had her issues as we all do. But I enjoyed her company. But… here I am 25 years later. No kids, no wife. Just all these damn cows and chickens and horses. Don’t tell Estrella I said that.” Joel says, mentioning one of the cows in the barn. You laugh, telling him a quick ‘of course not’.

A comfortable silence falls between you two for a while. It’s only then you notice that Joel’s record player is going, playing some soft country song in the background. You breathe out, your eyes growing heavy. Your mind drifts back to Joel’s words. No wife, no kids. He’s been alone the last 25 years?

“So… You said you don’t have a wife or any kids? Any particular reason?” As you ask this, regret fills your body. It’s probably a sensitive subject for Joel. God, you are such an idiot-

“Not really. Just… never found the time.” Oh.

You nod again as he speaks, waiting for him to continue. “I wanted to at one point. It’s kinda hard to date when the only people around you are a lesbian or… furry. Don’t get me wrong… I’d find myself up at Jimmy’s old bar and maybe meet a girl, take her home for the night… but it never went further. You kinda lose track of time after a while. Then 25 years pass and you’re pushin’ 50 and it’s like… damn. Where’d the time go?”

Your heart breaks as you hear his words, but you can also understand. Time does move quickly and if you don’t pay attention, you lose it.

“Hmm… well, don’t give up hope. You never know what could happen.” You say with a soft smile. Joel laughs again and you can’t say that you hate it. It’s nice.

“What?” You laugh along with him, “You don’t know what could happen! You could always try a dating site. They have that farmers only website which might be really good for you.”

This makes Joel laugh louder, “Sweetheart… a dating website? I don’t even have a smartphone, how do you think I’d manage that? And while it’s nice you got this sort of hope for me; I don’t mind being alone. Easier this way.” He trails off, both of your laughs dying down. You stare at Joel for a long time. Every fiber of your being screams to touch him or hug him… kiss him. There’s something about him that makes you just long for him. To take care of him. To show him what it’s like to be loved.

You try and pull yourself from your thoughts and as you go to say something, you hear your name being called from the house. Luke. Your eyes close as your stomach drops, not wanting to face reality. You sigh as you stand up and stretch, smiling anxiously at Joel who stands with you. He looks into your eyes, his sad, deep baby browns piercing at you and it takes your breath away. Not realizing it, you reach for him. You pull him against your body as you hug him. He freezes in your embrace, not sure if he should hug you back. But after a moment of contemplation, he throws caution to the wind and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against him like he didn’t want you to go away. Like he wanted to keep you here with him. Safe in his arms.

The hug was too brief for your liking. Joel steps back first, holding you at arm's length in front of him. Luke calls your name again and you groan. You look up to Joel once more and smile. “Thank you for the nice conversation today… and the pie. I really did outdo myself, huh?”

Joel smiles back and nods, “Darlin, you put your whole damn foot into it. I can’t wait to eat another slice tomorrow. Or before bed. Who knows.”

You laugh before stepping towards the door, casting Joel a quick look and then heading back up to the house.

You feel so light and giddy from the conversation with Joel, you don’t even mind the scowl on Luke’s face as you reach the porch. “Why were you at Joel’s?” He asks, following you through the back door to the kitchen.

“I had a piece of pie. Since someone ate mine.” You reply, taking your shoes off.

Luke rolls his eyes, “Jesus, cry me a river. So glad you’re so close with that old man that he’d spare a piece of his precious cherry pie for you. I mean, fuck. He’s probably loving the attention he’s getting from you. Half his age and conventionally pretty. I’m sure he’s eating that up.”

This makes you snap.

“And so, what if he is?! God forbid someone feels good from getting some attention. We’re just talking either way, so I don’t know why this is such an issue for you. It’s not like you talk to me anymore anyways.” You seethe as tears begin to well. You sigh in frustration, hating how emotional you get when angered. Luke’s eyes soften and his shoulders fall.

“No, you’re right.” He says, causing your eyes to widen. “I’ve been neglecting you. I’ve been so stressed with work; I’ve lost sight of what’s important to me and that’s you, baby.” He continues. You feel something flutter in your chest, but you can’t tell if it’s hope or disgust.

Luke approaches you slowly, wrapping his arms around your frame as he lowers himself to your height. He peppers your face in kisses and while you don’t stop him, you don’t necessarily enjoy it. “Baby… I’m so sorry. You can forgive me, right? I swear I’ll change my ways. I’m gonna get out earlier, help make dinner and clean up then I can hold my sexy wife on the couch while we watch that trashy TV show you like. Just like we used to in the city. That sound okay?” He smiles, looking into your eyes.

You avoid his gaze for a moment before deciding to look. You can feel your heart begin to soften for him again, even if it’s slight. Which leads you to nod, causing him to break into a huge smile.

“Thank you, my love. I don’t deserve you.” He says, leaning in to kiss your lips. His kisses are rushed and urgent and his lips are chapped but too wet. You try to ignore it as his hands slide down your waist to your ass, squeezing the pajama covered flesh. You hum against his lips as your brows knit but Luke takes this as a sign to go further. You don’t have the heart to tell him no.

He leads you upstairs to your shared bed, taking your comfy pajamas off and placing you against the mattress. The next 20 minutes are filled with over-the-top grunting and touches that are too rough and once he finishes, not caring if you did or not, you roll over and force yourself to sleep. Your mind races with thoughts of Joel. His chocolate eyes, his pouty bottom lip and the way his fucking body felt against yours this evening. It was a hug. A hug! And that one instance had you nearly foaming at the mouth for more. You don’t try to push your thoughts away this time. In fact, you welcome them. And after a while, your body begins to relax enough to finally drift off.

The next few weeks are filled with much of the same. Luke’s promise to change falls through, of course. The only thing that does change is his desire for you. It’s like all he wants to do is touch you and it drives you insane. You thank God you’re on birth control, because if you were to get pregnant with his child right now… you don’t know what you’d do. Probably keel over and wait for death.

Joel is one of the only things getting you through the days. You bake a new treat almost every day, not even bothering to ask Luke if he wants to try them anymore. Instead, you take them straight to Joel. His reactions never fail to amaze you. Cinnamon bread topped with streusel? 10/10, no complaints. Jalapeno cheddar sourdough? Sent from God himself. Pumpkin cinnamon rolls with homemade cream cheese frosting? Crafted by the hands of the divines, infused with holy nectar. And he acted that way. He was visceral in the way his body reacted to the desserts and baked goods and the pride it filled you with was something else entirely. His groans of pleasure, the way he’d lean over just slightly. The way he’d look at you and you’d swear his pupils would dilate. It just… did something to you.

It was your routine. Wake up, make something delicious, go to Joel’s and eat and talk for a while, then head home before Luke gets done with work and pretend to be a happy wife. It was exhausting in that sense. You think you were happy in some way, but not because of your husband.

You don’t even know when the dynamic changed. Maybe it was when Luke’s busy season started. And busy he was. He’d even have to go into the office for a few days at a time and since it was so out of the way, he’d just get a hotel room in the city. You found yourself looking forward to his time away from the farm. Away from you. The days where you got to be you, and where you got to pretend you weren’t tied to this piece of shit husband. Where maybe you were single and enjoying the company of a man who seemed to be genuinely interested in you.

You found yourself doing other things for Joel besides giving him sweet treats here and there. Some days you’d get up when that rooster would crow and brew a pot of coffee, bringing it to him in a thermos as Fall came in full force. Or there were days where you’d pack him a lunch and bring it to the barn or stable and even eat with him while he tended to the horses, cows and chickens. You liked it. No, you loved it. You loved the simplicity of spending time with him. He was grateful for everything you said and did, and he showed that back.

Dryer crapped out on you? Joel can fix it. Pipe burst in the kitchen sink? No worries, Joel has it. The leg on your favorite dining chair is loose? Hell, Joel would probably build you a whole new set for the table.

You two were close. And when you say close, you meant it. You talked about everything under the sun. Your hopes and dreams, your fears, even the totally irrational ones. You remember laughing until you nearly peed your pants when you found out Joel was scared of mushrooms. He defended himself by saying how they grow from decay and that’s what freaked him out the most. Plus, they tasted bad. You couldn’t argue with that. You hated mushrooms too.

He never judged you and you never judged him. It was refreshing. Easy.

It was day two of three that Luke was supposed to be away for work, and you were living the high life. You slept like a rock in your shared bed, getting to actually sleep in the middle of the king-sized mattress and not tucked away into the corner, trying not to touch him. When you thought about it, it was pretty sad because when did you grow to not want your husband anymore? But you’d save those thoughts for another morning. Today was your day.

You got up at 6 am, right on the dot when that Rooster crowed, a smile on your face and spring in your step. It was peaceful getting up so early and you’d grown to love it. As you padded down the steps in the morning darkness, the sun still yet to rise, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement of getting to hand Joel his morning coffee you were about to brew him. The way his eyes would crinkle as his hand would brush against yours as you pass him the thermos. Or his low, country drawl as he’d say “Thank you, darlin’. Much obliged.”

You knew thoughts like this while married weren’t great and you did have some sort of guilt but with the way Luke had been acting over the last few months, you honestly didn’t care that much.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the kitchen as you filled the thermos to the brim. No cream, no sugar. Black. Extra strong. Just how Joel liked it. You closed the container, setting it on the counter before heading back upstairs to change for the cold morning and then you were on your way down the hill to Joel’s house.

His front porch light wasn’t on, which was out of the ordinary, but you knocked anyways. After waiting a few moments and no response, you decided to peek through the window only to be met with nothing. No lights turned on and the house was seemingly empty. Your shoulders slumped as you wondered where he could have been.

You walked around the property, checking the stables, the chicken coop, and there was no sign of him there. Last place to check was the barn which maybe you should have checked first, but oh well. Once you reached the weathered building, you pushed the doors open, noting a light on towards the far wall on the right. “Joel?” You called out.

You heard rustling as he stepped on the hay on the barn floor and shortly after, he appeared from the pen he was sitting in. His face lit up at the sight of you causing your breath to hitch and your stomach to flip. You matched his smile and walked towards him, meeting him halfway into the barn.

“Mornin’ darlin’. This for me?” Joel asks, pointing to the thermos.

“You know it is. Black coffee delivery for Joel.” You say with a playful smile, lifting the thermos up for him to grab. His grin widens, taking it from you. Your usual brush of the hands sends electric currents to every nerve ending in your body.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Much obliged. You always make my mornin’ coffee perfectly. Like my own lil’ star-biz or somethin’.” He says, opening the tin up and taking a big sip. You laugh at the mispronunciation but you don’t have the heart to correct him. That damn blush was clear as day. It seems to tint your cheeks permanently these days.

“God, I miss Star… biz... Overpriced. But you haven’t lived until you’ve had an iced peppermint tea and their pumpkin pepita loaf.” You say with a playful smile.

Joel rolls his eyes as he opens the thermos and sips it, “Pepita? They’re just making up words at this point.”

“Joel, a pepita is a pumpkin seed.” You grin. Joel feels that familiar bloom in his chest and he sighs as his cheeks grow hot. He mumbles something about how he knew that and how he was just trying to be funny, but you know better. Joel shuts the thermos and takes in your face for a moment. The way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks as you close your eyes to giggle and shake your head at him nearly makes him dizzy. He clears his throat, time moving normally again as he grabs your hand and pulls you to the back of the barn. “C’mere, wanna show you somethin’.”

Now, it’s your turn for your face to burn. Your heart races as his hand grips yours tightly and you’re not sure what to expect. But when he pulls you into the pen, and you see Estrella laying there, you settle down.

Joel drops your hand and squats down next to her, rubbing her back softly. The way he’s so incredibly gentle makes you smile. You squat next to him, following his hand and petting her too. “She’s so soft… been here on this farm for a few months now and this is the first time I’m really getting to pet her.”

Joel smiles too, his eyes watching your hand. “Better be soft with that damn $60 shampoo I use on her.” Joel pauses, moving back to the wood bench against the barn wall. “She’s about to give birth. Probably in a couple hours ‘er so.” He says, rubbing his tired eyes.

You look at Joel in surprise, “What? I didn’t even know she was expecting. Did you tell Luke?”

Joel nods, “Mhm. Told him when y’all got to the farm. Not surprising he didn’t say anything though. Not like he takes care of the animals. Or… anything around here.”

It’s true. Luke didn’t take care of anything around here like he told his family he would. And well, neither did you, but in some sort of way, you liked to think you took care of Joel. Luke took care of the bills though, for the most part. He paid… the electric bill, you think? The rest was pretty much paid for thanks to the house having been paid off decades ago. You sigh, deciding to sit next to Joel on the bench.

“Sorry… we’re bad farm owners, aren’t we?” You ask. Joel closes his eyes and smiles, breathing out a breathy laugh and you can’t help but smile too.

“Maybe a little. But that’s okay. ‘Least you’re pretty. Real nice to look at and such.” He slips, his brows shooting up into his hairline as he flushes.

You almost miss it. You almost miss him calling you pretty until it reregisters in your mind, and you swear you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t say anything for a good moment, not knowing what to say. Silence fills the barn, despite the sound of Estrella breathing heavily through her labor pains. Or maybe those were yours.

It’s like your body ignites, and you desperately want Joel to touch you. You don’t have the energy to fight the guilty thoughts of how you shouldn’t be thinking these things about another man that isn’t your husband. You don’t care anymore. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to act on it. You nod slowly, still not sure what to say, but you know if you don’t put some distance between the two of you; you’re gonna break.

You stand and wipe your sweaty palms on your leggings before turning at Joel and smiling softly. “I’m… I’m gonna head inside for a bit, get some laundry done. Let me know if you need any help with Estrella, okay?” You don’t wait for Joel to respond as you head towards the barn’s entrance. Desperate to get away, you pick your steps up, but Joel has other plans. You only get halfway across the barn before he grabs your hand once more and you don’t pull away.

You utter his name softly, and Joel can’t help the way it makes his heart race and his pants tighten. Your fingers feel smooth against his rough, calloused ones and he squeezes them slightly. His breath’s come in heaves and you find yours to be matching. You’re terrified to turn around, but his other hand touches your hip, urging you to face him. So, you do.

“Joel…” You say again and it’s like music to his ears. His big hand grips at your waist desperately, like he doesn’t want you to leave. Like you’ll disappear. His other hand drops your own and finds solace on the other side of your waist. His gaze is intense, but you don’t dare look away now.

“’M sorry.” He says, causing your brows to knit.

“Why?”

“For callin’ you pretty.” He speaks. You can tell he’s nervous. You can tell by the slight twitch in his hands as his fingers fight the urge to dig into your skin. Or the way his voice trembles. It makes you want him to take you right here and now.

“Why would you be sorry about that?” You ask, finding yourself slipping closer and closer into him.

“Shouldn’t be callin’ a married woman pretty. Shouldn’t be touchin’ her like this neither.” Joels hands squeeze again slightly, and you practically moan. Your lips part as that familiar ache continues to build between your legs and you don’t know how much more you can take.

“Well,” You begin, debating your next words carefully, “Maybe a married woman shouldn’t be letting a man that’s not her husband call her pretty or touch her like this… but here we are.”

Joel’s lips quirk up softly, pulling you closer to him. His firm chest presses against your breasts and the close vicinity begins to drive you crazy. You take a slow and steady breath, trying to calm your nerves but then one of Joel’s hands leaves your waist and runs up your neck to your cheek. Your eyes don’t drift from one another’s, but it doesn’t make you feel small. Not like how you’d feel under Luke’s gaze. You feel empowered. Like Joel actually wants you. Because he does.

Joel’s chest rises and falls as his hands caress your jaw, his thumb padding over the delicate skin of your cheek. You instinctively lean into it, pressing against his palm as your eyes close. Joel fights every urge to lean in and kiss you, but he won’t yet. You haven’t given him the okay.

Your hand comes up, gripping around his wrist as you hold his hand to you. You don’t want him to move it. He wasn’t going to anyway. Your eyes flutter open and see the desire written all over Joel’s face. A small puff of air escapes your mouth, and you pout.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, huh?” You ask, your voice tiny and worried.

Joel sighs too, blinking a couple of times. “No, probably not. Shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, but, Jesus… don’t know if I can stop.” He pauses for a moment and when you don’t say anything and you don’t move, he speaks again. “Please… tell me to stop.”

Your heart lurches in your chest and you suddenly lose the ability to speak so you just shake your head instead. Your other hand rises to meet Joel’s neck, and you pull him in closer to you. You feel his breath on your lips and it smells like coffee. You catch yourself relaxing as your eyes trail down to Joel’s mouth. You’ve never wanted to kiss someone as bad as you do him.

“Please… baby girl… tell me to stop.” He asks again and you shake your head once more, this time words find you. Well, word.

“No.” Is all you say and Joel practically groans. His hand on your hip pulls your body flush against him, fully pressed against his frame. Your eyes widen as you feel his length press against your leg and your breath catches in your throat.

“Gonna tell me to stop, now?”

You gulp.

“… No.”

Joel nods as he realizes this is happening. He leans in closer, “Okay. Can I… kiss you?”

Your eyes widen only slightly as you think it over. You want him to kiss you more than anything but once you do, it’s over. The line will have been crossed. You’ll be a cheater. But the way he’s looking at you, and the way he’s asked so nicely… you couldn’t say no.

“Yes.” You breathe.

“Okay.” He mumbles, wasting no time to press his lips against yours.

Joel is an intense man, and his kisses are no different. His movements are desperate and hungry, like he’s a man starved. He probably is. It’s been so long since he’s felt the touch of a woman. But you don’t mind it. In fact, you welcome it. He kisses you with such need it takes away and oxygen in your lungs. Like he’s been thinking about doing this forever. Maybe he has, you don’t know.

Your arms wrap around his neck as his hand at your waist holds you still, the one on your jaw trails down to your hip. He guides you backwards, your back meeting the wall of the tattered barn. You’re trapped between the two, but you have no time to think about that. You think about how perfect his lips feel against your own and how smoothly they move with yours. How natural. You don’t realize the tiny whimpers that escape your lips until Joel pulls back, grunting softly.

“Baby girl… fuckin’ hell. Those sweet noises you’re makin’ are gonna drive me crazy.” He huffs against your lips, making sure he’s not away from them for too long.

Your tongues tangle and your mind goes blank. You taste the bitter black coffee on him and it becomes addicting. You don’t even like coffee. Your head spins and reels and you find yourself slipping which you don’t mind. Joel could fuck you on this dirty barn floor and you’d thank him as you picked the hay out of your hair later. But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t like you slipping away from him. He parts your legs with his knee, his thigh resting between them so he can prop you up. So you can’t go anywhere.

His fingers glide under your sweater, seeking the warmth of your skin. He trails his cold digits up your tummy until they reach your bra. But he doesn’t go any higher than that. The chill of his hands leaves a wake of goose bumps, causing your nipples to harden and you’re practically moaning at this point. He’s barely even touched you.

“Please… Joel, please.” You beg. “Please, fucking touch me.”

Joel keels over slightly, pressing you against the wall even harder. “Fuck… want me to touch you, baby? Where? Tell me.”

“Anywhere.” You rasp, feeling more desperate than he is at this point.

Joel laughs softly, “Uh-uh… gotta be more specific.” His fingers trail further down, tracing random shapes around your navel.

You groan, feeling helpless. You want him everywhere. You want his fingers in your mouth, or his mouth on your breasts, or his cock stuffed inside you. Fucking anything.

Joel smirks again, raising his knee up higher until he hits your core. The small bump of his thigh against your clothed pussy pulls another whimper from you and it sparks something inside Joel. “Like that, darlin’? Like when your cunt rubs up against my thigh like that?”

Words fail you again and you nod, your hips instinctively bucking against it.

“That’s it… usin’ me like that. Makin’ yourself feel good for me. Let me see you move, pretty girl.”

Joel steadies you as you begin to rock your hips against his thigh. You ignore the way your panties stick to you and the way your leggings are just soaked at this point. You’re sure if you were to look down at Joel’s jeans, you’d see evidence of it all there too.

He moves his hands again, trailing one back up to your bra and slipping underneath it. He grabs at your breasts, his grip needy and clumsy. It brings you back to reality for a moment as you giggle. “Joel… calm down. I’m not going anywhere.”

Joel’s face reddens and he slows his movements, his thumb padding over your hard nipple. “Sorry, baby girl… It’s just…” He sighs, leaning down and kissing your lips again. It’s soft and sweet and all too quick. “It’s just I don’t know if I’ll ever get this opportunity again. Don’t know if I’ll ever get to touch you like this. Like I been wantin’.”

Your heart swells as you look up to Joel, a goofy smile plastered on to your face. “Like you’ve been wanting? And how long has that been?” You ask, pulling him back down to you to smooch his lips. He sighs, closing his eyes and savoring your affection.

“Since the night you showed up to mine in that silk nightgown of yours.” Joel mumbles against your mouth, pecking you slowly and languidly. It’s almost disorienting as he does it over and over again. Finally, after a moment he stops. “You looked so fuckin’ beautiful that night. Sweaty, nervous, lil’ irritated. I wanted to kiss your lips as soon as you sat on that couch of mine. But I needed to kiss you the moment I saw them big alligator tears wellin’ up in your eyes when I sang you that George Jones song. Never seen someone so pretty cryin’ like that.” He utters, nuzzling his nose against yours.

You can’t speak. You feel like all the air has whooshed out of your lungs as you look into Joel’s eyes. They’re dilated. His eyes are usually dark but they’re almost black at this point. Your arms stay firmly planted around Joel’s neck, fingers lacing through the soft curls at the bottom. He’s nervous again. You don’t want him to be.

“Joel… you telling me you want to do this again then?” You ask, pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“Baby… I want to do this and so much more with you. I want whatever you want to give to me.” Another peck to your lips. “As long as it’s with you, I want it.”

“Well, what do you want right now?”

“I want to make you come.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his words, mouth going dry. His hand on your hip urges you to start moving again. To start fucking yourself against his thigh. You listen.

Your hands trail from his neck to the front of his jacket, gathering the fabric in your fists as you hold him close. Your hips start to buck once Joel pushes his knee up to the perfect height, his thigh settled in between your folds. You begin to rock back and forth, the lack of distance between you two causing the most delicious friction. Your clit presses against the fabric, and you moan softly, whimpering his name and you swear it’s like he’s heard the voice of God himself.

“Fuckin’ music to my ears. Best song I’ve ever fuckin’ heard. Don’t stop. Keep goin’, my sweet girl.” Joel says, leaning down to tangle his tongue with yours again. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking faster as you chase that high that’s embarrassingly close. But the way he’s talking to you, the way he’s touching you so intimately, and the way your clit is pressed perfectly up against his thigh, you never stood much of a chance to begin with.

“Joel…” You whisper, your voice shaking.

“I know, baby, I know. I got you. Fuck…” He hushes back. This is clearly affecting him too. You look down at where your bodies connect and sure enough, the leg of his jeans is soaked, but to the right, just where his groin sits, another wet patch is forming. It’s small, but it’s there. Your breath catches as your head falls back slightly, allowing Joel’s lips to attach themselves to your neck. He tongues the skin up and down your pulse point, not daring to leave a mark. Yet.

“Taste so good. Bet the rest of you tastes even better. Fuck, I’m gonna be addicted. Already am.” Joel’s words push you closer and closer, your hips rocking back and forth quicker. Pretty little whimpers fall from your tongue as your fists ball tighter against his jacket. Joel moans too, his grunts getting louder, more animalistic.

“Joel, ‘m gonna… gonna come.” You manage to get out. Joel’s hand on your hip reaches around to the small of your back, coaxing you to ride faster, harder. His other hand drops from your bra, pulling your head to his so he can kiss you through it.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Fuck-” Joel mumbles against your lips, swallowing the little noises you make. He’s acting like he’s not too far behind as well. You’re not even touching him and he’s on the verge of coming. Just by making you come.

With your hips moving just a few more times, the coil in the pit of your stomach begins to snap, your eyes shutting tightly as you see white, hot lightning behind them.

“God. Oh, fuck. Joel…” You murmur, your head falling forward to bury your face in his chest. But he doesn’t allow that. Joel grabs your hair from the back and tugs it softly, wanting to see your face as you come.

“That’s it. My pretty girl, holy fuck. Ah, shit…” He grunts, his breath stuttering as his own head leans into your neck. His grip on your hair and waist becomes a vice, holding you to him as you think he finishes in his pants.

You breathe heavily, coming down from your high as you pull back, Joel’s grip on you lessening. His face is beat red, and he can’t meet your gaze.

“Joel, did you- did you…?” You ask cautiously, eyes shining with amazement.

Joel grunts again, one of his hands coming up to wipe his brow. “Shit, yeah. I did.” His gaze finally meets yours and you break into a grin, letting out a breathy laugh. He smiles with you, “Got me feelin’ like a damn teenage boy over here. Can’t believe I did that.”

You shake your head, still smiling. “Don’t go feeling embarrassed on me, Joel. That was… the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Your words are quiet, but you mean them. Eyes trailing down to where the small wet spot on his crotch used to be, now a bigger patch. You can’t help but run your fingers over it. Joel groans softly, leaning slightly into you from how sensitive he still is.

“Baby girl… watch it.” He stumbles, his breath picking back up.

You smile, “Waste it was in your pants… should have been inside my mouth. Or my pussy.” You don’t know where your confidence comes from. Maybe it’s because you made a grown man come in his pants just by watching you come on his thigh. But, nonetheless, you’re feeling good.

Your fingers continue to tease the wet spot on his groin, and you find yourself wanting to taste him. No, needing to taste him. Joel catches on to your thought process and even though he feels like he might pass out with how badly he needs you; he pushes through.

“Wanna taste, darlin’?” He hushes; lips pressed to your jaw. You nod.

“Please, Joel?” You ask in a small voice, the desire in it setting him alight.

It causes Joel to almost whimper, and he pulls back. His thigh drops from between your legs and the wet spot that’s accumulated on your leggings goes cold. You shiver slightly, missing his heat against you. Joel watches you for a moment before sighing. He wants to continue. He wants to fuck you in this barn and make you his, filling your sweet pussy up with his seed. Maybe knock you up so you can never leave him. Joel knows that’s not an option, but fuck, does he wish. He knows needs to cool it down a bit.

“You should head inside, take a shower er somethin’.” He speaks. Your brows knit together, shoulders falling slightly. You don’t want to leave his side. You don’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll be in in a bit. Don’t wanna be away from you for too long.” Your heart races at his words as he steps closer, placing his hands on either side of your cheeks. He leans down, kissing you deeply. It takes your breath away. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before, and it scares you. You can absolutely see yourself becoming addicted to this. You probably already are.

“Go to mine. Shower there. I’m gonna check on Estrella and then I’ll be in, okay? Won’t be away too long.” He says, backing up. You nod, muttering a quiet okay.

As you walk out of the barn, casting one last glance in his direction, he smiles. Your throat restricts and you march on forth to his little house on the property. All thoughts of Luke and your marriage are gone. As far as you were concerned, you were Joel’s. If he wanted you, that is. But you had an inkling there was a very good chance that was the case.

You reached Joel’s home and let yourself inside. It was funny to you he said to shower here when your house was only up the hill. But you weren’t going to deny him that. Plus, this was a good chance to look around the place. You’d only seen the living room which is crazy cause you were here often. You walked through the entrance, taking in the familiar plaid covered couch and the record player towards on the opposite side of it. Many mornings were spent here with Joel just chatting and laughing, listening to his collection of different records. Most of them were older county artists but you knew Joel was partial to 90’s alternative like Pearl Jam and Foo Fighters. Which surprised you, but it also made complete sense.

Stepping forward, the door off to the left of the entrance was slightly open. Curiosity piqued so you glanced in. His bedroom. Your eyes widened slightly, opening the door a bit more as you gazed around the neat room. His bed was the only thing unkempt. No clothes littered the ground, his self-care items which consisted of a jar of lotion, deodorant and probably a 15-year-old bottle of cologne were aligned neatly on the dresser. You smiled to yourself, shutting the door as you continued your trek to the bathroom. The hallway only had two doors and one opening which led to the kitchen. You assumed the one at the end of the hallway was a closet and upon opening it, you were right. So, the room next to it was the bathroom. You grabbed a towel and on you went.

Pale teal tile floor with weathered white walls. The tub was a weird shade of green which seemed to be a common theme among the property. Must have been Karla’s favorite color. It was small and cozy, like the rest of the house, and it filled you with comfort you hadn’t felt in months. You were in Joel’s space and it all just felt so him. You really could get used to it all.

Pulling back the translucent white shower curtain, you noted Joel had actual shampoo and conditioner and not a 3-In-1 like Luke used. Fuck, he even had body wash. You smile again and turn the hot water on before pulling the drain to let the shower run. It felt so good to strip out of your wet leggings and the rest of your clothes and it felt even better stepping into the steaming shower. Near scalding water cascaded down your back and you hummed in delight, letting it soak your skin. This was nice.

As you reached for the shampoo, deciding it was best to get the barn smell off you, you hadn’t noticed someone stepping into the bathroom with you. As you hummed to yourself, lathering the tea tree scented shampoo, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes widened as you jumped with a yelp, turning slightly. Of course it was Joel.

“Joel! Jesus, you scared me.” You breathed.

Joel smiles, “Sorry darlin’. You were too busy hummin’ and using up all my shampoo to notice. This uh, this okay?” He says, nodding between the two of you. You nod back.

“Yeah, yeah… ‘course it is.” Realization sets in that you’re naked in the shower with Joel right now. Yeah, he’d made you come on his thigh in the barn, but this was a whole new level. Joel notices your nerves and he kisses your shoulder.

“Don’t gotta do nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna be by you.” He speaks.

Your heart melts and you nod, relaxing into his touch. You turn in his arms and breathe out a laugh, “Want me to wash your hair?”

Joel’s eyes widen slightly, and he pauses before nodding. “Okay, go ahead.”

His arms fall from around your waist, but he doesn’t stop touching you. His hands linger around your hips and tummy, fingertips grazing the soft skin like he’s addicted. He is.

You reach for the shampoo, squirting a little in your hands and lathering them until they’re sudsy. Joel dips his head under the water, wetting his hair and you reach up, rubbing it through. It’s intimate in the way his eyes close, his hand planting against you, holding himself still. You can’t help but look down and see he’s hard, but he doesn’t make it a big deal. You wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t looked.

“Okay, let’s rinse you.” You hum softly.

He leans forward, the water flowing on to him as the shampoo falls into the drain. You wash it until the water runs clear and then wipe his face so when he opens his eyes, he doesn’t get anything in them. Your heart pounds at how personal this is; how close he is.

You take in every detail on his face, like his little sun freckles and his deep-set lines in the corners of his eyes. He has long eyelashes that droplets kiss and you feel like you’re in a daze. He has a scar on his nose and the most kissable bottom lip and the most wonderful facial hair-

“Darlin’?” Joel says, eyes locked on to yours, “You okay?”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips before blowing a raspberry, “Oops, you caught me. You’re so pretty I got caught up.”

Joel laughs and trails his hand up your waist, right under the swell of your breast, “Pretty? First time I’ve heard that one, I think. Not nearly pretty as you are, though.” He grins.

Your eyes roll, “So cheesy.”

“Yeah, I know you like it. Can’t deny it by the cute lil’ blush of yours. You always look so damn happy to see me.” Joel says, his other hand cupping your jaw as he looks into your eyes.

You swallow harshly, unable to look away. “That’s because I am always happy to see you. I like you.”

“I like you too,” He breathes, causing your heartbeat to stop in your chest and start somewhere else, “A whole lot.”

Silence fills the bathroom despite the sound of the water that’s now going cold. Joel’s thumb caresses your bottom lip for a moment, and you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Let’s finish up. Water’s growin’ cold on us. I wanna get you all warm and snuggled up.”

“In your bed?” You ask, eyes wide.

“Yes. In my bed.”

“Okay.”

You heart reignites as the beat in your pussy quickens. Joel’s hands roam your body, lathering both of you in the sea salt scented body wash before rinsing you off and stepping out of the shower. He wraps you in the plush gray towel after drying your hair a bit. You don’t have to do anything. It’s… surreal. You’ve never had this kind of care and attention.

You follow behind Joel shyly, almost intimidated by the intimacy of it all. Both of you are towel wrapped and damp as you step into Joel’s room. He switches the bed side lamp on and you hug the towel closer to you as you watch Joel move to rummage through his drawers. He grabs you a big shirt and a pair of his boxers, slipping on some himself. All this is done in silence, and it scares you how comfortable it is. How natural.

You walk over to the bed, getting dressed in Joel’s clothes as you sit on the edge, waiting for him to do anything. To say anything. He doesn’t for a while.

Finally, Joel turns to face you, a small smile on his face. “What ya so quiet for?”

You shrug, biting back the grin that fights through. “I dunno… I’m a little nervous I guess.”

Joel’s eyebrow quirks, nodding slowly. He makes his way next to you and sits on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips and you look over to his face. He’s just so fucking handsome.

“Well… what do you think you’re nervous about? Luke finding out?” He asks, his voice gentle.

You shrug again, “Maybe. But that wasn’t my first thought.”

Joel’s eyebrows knit together, “Then what was?”

A long sigh escapes your mouth, and you look away for a moment before looking back, “Why does this all feel so natural with you?”

“What do you mean?”

You sigh again, “I mean… we just showered together, and you were hard the entire time, but you didn’t even kiss me. You dried my hair and my arms and legs when we got out and then wrapped me in a towel. You gave me your clothes to wear to get comfy in bed with you and neither one of us batted an eye at how smoothly it flowed. It’s… weird”

“It’s weird?” He asks, reiterating your words.

“Well, not weird. But also, it kinda is. I’ve… I guess I’ve just never had that, so I don’t know how to react.” You say nervously. You decide to keep your eyes away from Joel as everything begins to feel too much.

He nods, humming softly, “So, you’ve never took a shower with Luke before?”

“I have, of course. But it’s always involved sex. It’s never washing each other's bodies and not even kissing. You touched my ass only to wipe the soap off it.” You say humorously.

Joel laughs, “What, did you want me to leave it there?”

Your eyes roll and you shake your head. “That’s not the point. Why is it so easy with you?”

Joel’s eyes soften and he shakes his head himself. He looks at you in your body, clad with his white fruit-of-the-loom t-shirt and faded red boxers and he shrugs. “Don’t know, darlin’. I really don’t.” He leans in as he sees your shoulders fall and he brushes some of your damp hair behind your ear. “Not everything needs to make sense. Or needs to be made sense of. Sometimes it’s just how it is.”

He leans in and presses a chaste kiss under your ear and two more along your jaw. Your eyes close as you breathe out, savoring his touch. His lips trail down to your chin and along your neck before pecking their way back up. Before his lips can meet yours, you speak. “Are we bad people?”

“No.” he says, no hesitation in his voice as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“But Joel-”

“But nothin’,” Joel says pulling back slightly, “You are not a bad person for not being in love with your husband. He’s… He doesn’t treat you well, baby girl. There’s been so many nights I’ve heard him hollerin’ about things to you from all the way down the hill. He’s distant, he doesn’t give you the attention you deserve, and he’s a fuckin’ child in a man's body. You hear me?” He huffs, sitting back up and running a hand through his hair. He looks back down to you, your gaze still anywhere but him.

It’s silent for a while, this time less comfortable. Joel breathes in, his chest tightening with nerves. “Leave him.” He speaks. Your eyes widen and you stare at him for a long time, mouth open in shock. Leave him? What?

“Joel, you don’t know what you’re asking.” You say, he scoffs.

“Yes, I do. Leave Luke.” He rebuts.

“And what? Be with you?”

“Yes. Would that be so bad?”

Your eyes widen again, and tears brim your lash line, “No. It wouldn’t be.”

Joel’s lips form a thin line, “Then leave him.”

You sigh, your eyes closing. You can’t leave Luke. Where would you go? You have nothing without him. You don’t have a job, you don’t have a car, you’re in the middle of nowhere. Luke wouldn’t sign the divorce papers too, you’re sure of it. He’d throw a fit and then convince you to stay and you’d give in, living out the rest of your days unhappy with a man you can’t stand.

You stand up, a single tear rolling down your cheek. Joel panics and grabs your hand, holding you from going anywhere. His chest tightens and his eyes widen. You can’t go. Not yet anyways. He just got you.

“Baby, please… Please. Stay with me. Just for now.” The desperation in his voice is palpable and you falter immediately.

“I wasn’t going to leave, I just… I needed to do something. I’m anxious.” You say, your body twisting to face him.

Joel stares at you, his grip on your hand unrelenting. The way your eyebrows are tense in the middle has him anxious too. He pulls you to him with this gentleness that makes your body cave. You find yourself on his lap, hands on his chest as he holds you to him. Your eyes linger on your hands and then the expanse of his torso. He doesn’t have a shirt on, and you hate how distracting it is. How wonderful the hair that litters his skin feels against your palms. The swell of his pecks and how soft yet firm they are. His heartbeat in his chest that’s going two hundred miles per hour and how you find yours to be matching.

Joel brings one of his hands up to your head, moving the hair from your face.

“Look at me,” He breathes. His tone is light and almost like a whisper, “Please, my pretty girl.”

“Your pretty girl?” You ask, gaze meeting his. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly as he grins.

“Yes. I don’t care what you say, darlin’. I don’t care if you leave Luke or stay with him. You’re mine and I… I reckon you’ve been mine for a long time now.”

Your eyes close and you nod, leaning your head on Joel’s shoulder. He’s right. It’s been a few months of you and Joel getting to know each other better but every day you find yourself slipping more. It was only a matter of time before this happened. Before both of you fell completely.

It was crazy to you. Yeah, you felt guilty for it in the beginning. Guilty for the way you’d go to bed and dream of how you’d get to see Joel the next morning. Guilty for the way you’d wake up early and make coffee for another man while your husband slept peacefully, oblivious to your feelings. Only kind of guilty for the times Joel would be busy, and you couldn’t bother him. So, you’d slip into your bedroom and touch yourself to the memories of his voice and laugh and the way he looked at you; the way he’d hug you before heading out to do his duties. But never guilty for how intoxicating you found him to be. How addicted you found yourself to be.

“Yeah… I think so too. Guess you’ve been mine for a while too?” You ask, your nose prodding his collarbone softly. He smiles, his hand on your waist trailing to your ass and squeezing it slightly, pulling you closer.

“Been yours longer than you been mine, that’s for sure. I wanted you that first night you guys got here. Looked so fuckin’ pretty.” He mumbles, turning his head into your hair. He could live here like this forever and be happy. He’d never asked for anything, never want for nothing. Just being with you here on this farm. He was convinced that’s what heaven looked like.

“Joel…” You whimper at his words, one of your hands trails up to his neck as your lips find it too. You press them against his skin, eliciting a hiss from him. His hand grips your ass harder, spreading your cheeks slightly.

“Yeah, baby girl? Feelin’ needy?” He asks, burying his face into the side of your head. You open your mouth, tongue snaking out to taste him. You want to mark him, have him wear your sigil around the farm. Not like anyone would see. Luke probably wouldn’t even notice.

Your lips plant themselves around his skin, sucking slightly and nipping at it. Joel’s breath catches in his throat, and he stutters, “Jesus fuck- darlin'. What do you think you’re doin’?” he asks, eyes shut as he leans his head back, granting you better access.

You hum, continuing your assault against his neck. Below you, Joel’s cock grows, poking against your thigh. You place open-mouthed kisses, and little love bites up to his jaw before pulling back to look at your work. You grin, eyeing all the small red marks beginning to darken. Joel shakes his head smiling, dilated eyes locked on yours. “Better hope your no-good husband don’t see these.”

You smile back, “He won’t. He’s too fucking oblivious. He doesn’t even know his wife is in their bed touchin’ herself to another man every night.”

This knocks the wind out of Joel’s lungs completely, his eyes widen, and you think he might actually black out for a second. You steady him with a small grin, shaking his head a little. “You okay?”

It takes Joel another couple seconds to respond, blinking back his glazed over eyes, “Oblivious to what, darlin’? To his wife doin’… what?”

You laugh, leaning down to peck the tip of Joel’s nose, “You heard me, Miller.”

“I don’t think I did, pretty girl. Think you should say it again so I can make sure I heard correctly.” He says, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you flush against his erection. Your walls part, feeling the hardened length against your core through his boxers.

You can’t think straight as the sensation of Joel gently rocking his hips upward sends you feral. Your grip on him tightens, “I-I said… Luke is too fucking oblivious to the fact that I’m touching myself to the thought of you every night. I make myself come every night to the thought of you and what it would be like for you to fuck me. How it would be to have your cock stuffed inside me. That clear enough for you?”

Joel huffs, his cock twitching against your heat, “Clear as crystal, baby girl.” His lips connect to yours and it takes your breath away. You’ve said it before, but Joel is just so intense. His kiss is powerful and full of force and it’s utterly intoxicating. You don’t want it to end, but Joel pulls back.

“Wanna know somethin’?” He asks. You nod. “You know how many times I’ve touched myself in the last few months to you?”

Your eyes widen as you bite back a smirk, deciding to relax more into his touch. You place your weight on his lap, his cock bumping your folds in a way that makes him groan. “Yeah? You been touching yourself to me too, Joel?”

“Yeah. Touched myself that first night you came here. When I say you looked so fuckin’ pretty cryin’ like that… I meant it. You went back up the hill and I sat right there in my chair. Couldn’t get out of my jeans fuckin’ fast enough. You got no idea the effect you have on me, do you?” Joel says, nuzzling his nose against yours pecking your lips in sequence a couple times.

You feel drunk. That’s the best way you could put it. You felt drunk on Joel’s needy hands and sinful words, and you’d be damned if you didn’t keep on drinking.

You gulp, “Why don’t… why don’t you show me just how much I affect you then.”

Joel looks into your eyes, looking for any reservations but he sees none. He feels a lump in his throat form, and he really doesn’t want this to end. A part of him wishes Luke would just not come back. That’d he stay far away and leave this farm and you to him. He takes care of both better than anyone else could, especially that poor excuse of a man. Joel wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he wouldn’t mind if Luke just up and died. That way he could never interfere again. As far as Joel was concerned the farm was his, and so were you. It made sense to him. Just as the sun comes up in the morning and sets at night. You were Joel’s and he was yours.

“Show you? Want me to show you how much I want you? How much I fuckin’ need you, sweet girl?” He asks, voice dripping with lust. You nod, words failing you. Seemed to be a common theme around him.

Joel smiles, “Okay, my baby. My pretty girl. You’re mine, aren’t you, darlin’?”

You shudder out a breath, his possessive words going straight to your core, “Joel, yes. I’m yours.”

Joels grip tightens and has you grind down against his cock that’s so painfully hard, “Only mine? No one else?”

You moan, a real moan and it has Joel reeling. “Only fucking yours. Please, Joel… I need you.”

“That’s all you had to say.” He says as he stands up, pushing you off his lap. You shiver from the lack of heat, but he turns to you and nods to the bed, “up against the headboard.”

You listen immediately, nearly stumbling to get on to the bed. Joel follows you, settling in next to you. He covers your bodies with the comforter, and your eyebrows knit together. You watch him fluff up his pillow and then lay against it, sighing as he closes his eyes. What?

“Uh, Joel? What… Are you doing?” You ask.

“Hm? Takin’ a nap. I’ve been up since four in the morning, darlin’. Ol’ Joel’s tired.” He says, eyes closing again.

You laugh, “What? But what about-”

“In a couple hours, we’ll get up. I'll check on Estrella, come back here, and I’ll make you dinner. Then after it’s all said and done, I’ll fuck you. Real good too.”

Your breath catches and you nod, “Okay.”

Joel extends his arm to you, and you lean into him. You place your head on his chest, his arm wrapping around you and holding you to him tightly. He didn’t want you to go anywhere. You weren’t going to.

It was crazy to you how quickly you fell asleep. As soon as Joel started to rub the skin on your forearm and his breathing began to even out, you were knocked. It was a quick nap, probably only an hour instead of the couple he promised. But you didn’t mind. Just meant you were closer to him fucking you.

Joel wakes up first, breathing out heavily as he moves from under you, trying so very carefully not to wake you up. But as soon as you felt the lack of body heat, you were wide awake.

“Where are you going?” You mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Joel smiles, slipping on his jeans and a shirt.

“Goin’ to check on Estrella. She should be havin’ that calf any moment at this point.” He leans down and kisses your temple and then your cheek and then your lips. You exhale, loving the affection. You kiss him back, humming against him.

“Let me go with you.” Your words are quiet as you feel yourself fighting sleep, your body slumping into Joel’s bed. You couldn’t help it. You were surrounded by his scent and the lingering warmth from his side of the bed. It was all so nice. So Joel.

He chuckles, “Nah, baby girl. Get some more rest. I’ll be back in a bit, okay? My pretty girl needs her beauty sleep.”

You feel your lips quirk up softly, yawning a quick ‘okay’ before nodding back off.

It’s another few hours before your body decides it’s time to get up. As you sit up in Joel’s bed, noticing the sun going down, you hear pots and pans clanging around in the kitchen. You decide to try and gather your bearings and go check it out. The walk down his hallway is short, but you can hear him mumbling something to himself and it has you smiling. Joel is placing a pan onto the stove when he sees you from the corner of his eye. He smiles, “Mornin’, darlin. Bout time you woke up.”

You yawn, stretching slightly, “I know. I’ve been sleeping all day. I have no clue why I’m so exhausted.” You make your way over to Joel who’s lighting the burner on the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into him, still feeling the lingering effects of your long nap. Joel chuckles, kissing the top of your head.

“Still sleepy, baby? I guess that’s what good orgasms do to ya, huh?” He teases you. You can feel your face flush as your mind travels back to your time with Joel in the barn and you smirk.

“Guess so. Wouldn’t know. Never had one until then.” You say as Joel moves from you to the fridge, inspecting it for ingredients.

“That so? Well… Looks like I’m gonna have to keep ‘em coming.” He smirks. His eyes scan the content of the fridge and there really isn’t much. He clears his throat. “So, I know I promised you dinner. But I haven’t been able to head up to the market for a bit. I could probably throw together some omelets. Cheese and… bacon? Everythin’ else is in the freezer. It’d take too long to dethaw at this point.” Joel speaks, picking up a paper sack of what he thinks is the bacon.

You watch him raid his fridge and then you clear your throat as the lightbulb in your head goes off. “That doesn’t sound too bad. But think I have a better idea.”

Joel looks over to you, shutting the fridge before crossing his arms, “Oh yeah? What do ya got in mind?”

“I went up to Leo’s market the other day. They were having a special. Buy two get one free. So, I got a pack of almonds cause they’re my favorite. I got a pack of macadamia nuts for cookies and a pack of pecans for your pie. The one you requested forever ago.”

Joel’s eyes widen and his face breaks out into a grin, “Dessert for dinner, huh?”

You shrug, “I think it’s a good time to make it. You can help me. Ever made a pie before?”

He shakes his head, “Can’t say I have, sugar. But I think I have the perfect person to teach me.”

You roll your eyes playfully, before heading towards the front door and slipping your boots on. Joel follows you.

“I’ll be right back. Just gonna go up to the house and grab the stuff.”

He nods, offering help but you tell him you’ll be fine. You head up the hill and in through the back door of the main house before scouring the kitchen for all the ingredients. It’s smells like Luke in here and it makes you queasy. You pause to take a breath. You’d really forgotten about your husband just like that. Like he was so easy to forget despite being married to him for a couple years now. You rest your palms against the counter and clear your throat as your mind just as easily drifts back to thoughts of Joel. How he’s waiting for you just down the hill. How he looks at you and how you feel around him. How he makes you feel. Happy. Safe. Satisfied. Loved. And once again, Luke is gone from your mind.

You step back from the counter and move around the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag and packing it with flour, sugar, corn syrup, cream, butter, and vanilla.

Soon enough, you’re back in the kitchen with Joel, laying out all the ingredients and getting to work. You start on the crust, combining the flour and butter into a crumbly dough and then let it rest for a bit in the fridge while you start on the filling. Joel helps you measure out the sugar, cream, and corn syrup while you crack the eggs into the bowl. You work together seamlessly, and he follows your instructions to a T. You bite your lip in concentration as you mix the pecans into the filling, folding them in delicately.

Joel watches in admiration, his eyes grazing over your face and then your body which is covered with his clothing. His. It makes his chest swell with affection and he can’t help himself from leaning over and kissing you.

The kiss takes you by surprise, but you return it immediately. You hum against his lips and place your hand on his cheek. His lips move with yours for a moment and he pulls away first, leaving you in a daze. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He hushes; his eyes still closed. You lean in and press another kiss to his bottom lip and he smiles.

“Okay, let’s finish this damn pie.” You speak. Your body feels light and fluttery almost. It’s like you don’t know how to handle all of this. All of this affection. It’s like it’s too much. But also not enough.

Joel nods, getting up to get the pie dough from the fridge. He watches you roll the crust out, cutting it to fit the pie tin, and then pour the filling into it. He watches you make a little heart made out of pecans on the top before popping it into the oven and it’s all so wonderful to him.

Joel’s never really minded being alone. He stayed busy. He had so much to do on the farm every day he really didn’t have time to think that maybe life would be better spending it with someone else. He had the animals, and at one point he had Karla. Sure, he still had those nights from time to time where he craved the heat from another body in his bed. Or maybe when his fist just wasn’t enough and he needed that slick, wet heat his hand couldn’t offer him.

But now, as he watches you move around his kitchen, baking him his favorite pie, doing the dishes, he can’t imagine it any other way. He knows he’s in too deep. You’re a married woman and he knows that, it’s just he’s fought his feelings for a long time and now? He doesn’t give a damn. He wants you. He’s convinced he needs you. If you were to leave him to go back to that piece of shit husband, he doesn’t know what it’d do to him.

Joel stands from the small dining table in the kitchen and makes his way to you. You’re stood at his sink, scrubbing at the dishes you used for the pie. He comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. Your heart races at the action and you breathe out a small, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He says back simply, his eyes closing.

You peek at him from the corner of your eye and smile, “Feeling sleepy?”

He nods, “‘Lil bit. Was stressin’ over Estrella but she finally got that calf out. Both of ‘em are resting now.” Joel presses tiny kisses against your neck, and you sigh, savoring them.

“That’s good they’re both okay. I want to see the baby.” You say, turning off the water and turning in his arms to face him.

“You can. We can go see ‘em tomorrow morning. That sound okay to you?”

You shake your head yes, looking into Joel’s eyes, “Sounds fine to me.”

The smell of fresh baked pecan pie wafts through the kitchen and your eyes light up. “I think the pies done. Shall we take a look?” You ask.

“We shall.” Joel counters with his country twang and you giggle.

He opens the oven and you slip on the mitt before pulling the pie out and setting it on top of the stove. “Now we have to let it cool.”

Joel sighs impatiently, “Let it cool? We can’t cut into it now?”

“No, I mean, unless you want hot pecan sugar soup. It has to firm up!” You say, turning the oven off.

Joel groans playfully and you shake your head, “You can wait twenty more minutes, okay?”

He rolls his eyes but nods, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ve been waitin’ months anyways so what’s another twenty minutes?”

“Exactly.”

Joel moves to the sink to finish up washing the dishes while you poke and prod at the pie making sure it firms up okay. And after cleaning the kitchen, putting away the ingredients into Joel’s cabinets, and a little make out session, twenty minutes have already passed.

You pull back from Joel, his lips following yours as he isn’t quite ready to stop yet. You hush against his mouth, “Joel… you know what time it is?”

“Hmm, time for me to keep kissin’ you?” He asks, pressing his lips to yours again.

You hum, pushing him back, “Pie time.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise, “‘Fuckin’ finally.”

The two of you gather around the stove as you stick your knife into the pie and cut it into 8 big, individual slices. You take Joel’s plate and serve him first then dish up yours as well. Once back at the table you wait for him to take a bite, anticipating his reaction as nerves settle in your tummy. It’s his favorite pie so this is a big deal.

Joel sticks his fork into his slice and then into his mouth. You watch him closely as he chews a few times, anxiety creeping from your tummy to your neck. But then, his eyes close and you swear you hear him moan.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” He utters, his mouth still full of the pie.

Your eyes light up and you smile, “Is it good?”

Joel looks at you from the corner of his eyes and then back down to his plate, immediately shoving another bite into his mouth. He doesn’t say anything. Even when his first slice is gone and even when he finishes another one. He goes for a third and you stop him, grabbing his wrist gently.

“Joel, baby… calm down. Your pie isn’t going anywhere.” You laugh.

Joel clears his throat, a hint of red on his cheeks, “I know, darlin’. But you think that cherry pie’a yours was good? This could win contests.”

Your eyes roll and you shake your head, “You’re just saying that. You always hype my food up. It can’t all be good!

Joel looks at you incredulously, “It can’t all be good? Are you kiddin’ me? You haven’t made a bad thing yet. But this? I might need one a week. Maybe two.”

You laugh, finally taking a bite of your own slice. You were too entranced by his display of gluttony to even try it yet. But fuck, once you had a taste, you knew he was right. Your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the nuttiness from the pecans and the caramelized sugar, “Okay, you’re right. This is better than the cherry pie.”

“Pecan is always better than cherry. But you know what would taste even better?” He asks.

Your eyebrows knit together as you take another bite of pie and look at Joel, “Hmm?”

“You.”

You choke on your bite of food and look up at him, smiling as a blush creeps onto your cheeks. Joel smirks, pushing his plate aside and leaning over the table to look at you. You lock eyes for a moment, unspoken longing simmering between the both of you and without words, you both stand up. Joel grabs your hand again and pulls you back down the hallway to his room. That nervous feeling settles in the pit of your stomach again, but you push it away. Images of Luke flash in your mind from before; when he loved you. When you loved him. It was almost annoying at this point. Why did you keep thinking of him? It’d been weeks if not months you had any sort of romantic feeling for him and while you supposed some guilt still did linger, you absolutely didn’t mind the way your body thrummed with desire for Joel.

Joel doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. It’s not like anyone’s gonna hear anything or walk in on you, which at this point, you didn’t really care if they did. After this day of touches and kisses and teasing, you needed all of him.

Your body shook with nerves and adrenaline as you stepped in to Joel’s room with him. It was really going to happen. You were going to fuck this man you’d be pining for for months. Joel on the other hand, was calm and collected. He walked over to his bed, peeling back the covers before stripping himself of his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. As he pulled the zipper down, he looked up to you, a soft smile on his lips.

“Gonna get in bed?” He asks, nonchalantly as all hell.

You twiddle your fingers as you sway from one foot to another, “I dunno. Do you want me to?”

Joel looks at you and rolls his eyes, “Darlin’…” he begins, but you cut him off.

“You gonna fuck me?”

Joel’s smile drops ever so slightly, thinking of what to say next. But it comes back as quickly as it disappears. “Gonna be disappointed if I don’t?”

You bite your lip and shrug slightly. Joel laughs, “I’ll take that as a yes then. Come ‘ere. It’s been too long since I’ve touched you.”

“You were holding my hand like maybe 2 minutes ago.” You grin softly, climbing into bed with him. His arms wrap around you, pulling you on top of him. He grunts in satisfaction as your body weight settles on his lower tummy, hands planted firmly at your hips. His thumbs rub tiny circles into your skin as he pushes your shirt over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cold air in the room. Your nipples harden instantly and your lips part, a short puff of air escaping them. Joel’s eyes dilate as he rakes them over your skin, his hands inching up your torso until they meet the swell of your breasts.

“So fuckin’ pretty… can’t believe you want me.” He mumbles.

You scoff, a smile on your face, “What do you mean by that?”

Joels thumbs pad over your hardened nipple, causing your cunt to throb. Your hands plant themselves against Joel’s chest, your fingertips weaving between the hair that litters it.

“What I mean is… I’m old enough to be your daddy, but maybe you’re into that. Maybe you like the idea of being with an old fucker like me.”

Your eyes roll, “Yeah, that must be it. I have an old man fetish.” You shake your head and laugh, a smile on his lips as well, “But no, Joel. I think it’s actually the fact that I think you’re amazing. You are so sweet, and kind and I don’t think you realize that. I think you have this idea of yourself that you’re this rough around the edges, loner type but you aren’t. I’ve never had someone be so gentle with me. It makes perfect sense as to why I’ve fallen so hard for you.”

Joel’s fingers stop as he stares at you for a long while. Suddenly, he sits up, holding your body close to him. His arms wrap around your frame, pulling you flush against his chest as his eyes don’t leave yours. “Please… be with me.” He speaks, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.

Your heart stills, “I am, Joel. I’m with you right now.”

“No, you know what I mean.” And you do. You absolutely know what he means. He wants you to leave Luke and be his. You want to. So desperately.

“Joel-”

“No, don’t give me that. You don’t love Luke. He doesn’t treat you well. Don’t you think being with me would be better?” He asks, his voice quiet, like he’s nervous.

“It would. It would be so much better, Joel-”

“Then leave him and be with me-” He interrupts.

“Please don’t interrupt me. I deal with enough of that from my husband.” You say in frustration, trying to pull back from him but he doesn’t let you go.

“Don’t pull away from me. You don’t have to be defensive with me. I’m sorry I interrupted you. I won’t do it again, I just… I want you, in every capacity. I want to wake up next to you, have you make me coffee every mornin’ just like you do now. I want to listen to my records with you and have you show me that Gilman Girls show you talk about all the time.” He says and you laugh softly.

“Gilmore Girls, Joel.”

“Yeah, that one. I want to have dinner with you and do the dishes together, then climb into bed so I can hold you, kiss you… so I can make love to you, and we don’t have to worry about anythin’ else. Just us.”

Your heart races and you feel tears spring to your eyes, the longing he feels for you blooming in your chest tenfold. Joel is infinitely better than Luke. In every way. He’s attentive and thoughtful and so kind it makes you lightheaded. Life here on the farm with Joel might not be so bad. You actually might enjoy it. You know you would. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind. But would you be willing to give up everything for him? You sigh, and without another beat; you speak.

“Okay.” You say, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Okay. I’ll leave Luke.”

Joel’s eyes widen and his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breaths he forces himself to take, “My sweet girl… you will?”

You nod, “Yes. I want all of that with you. I want to wake up at 5am and help you with the chickens and tend to Estrella and her calf. I want to make you treats and fatten you up with them,” Joel smiles and you do too, “I want to lay in bed with you and talk about nonsense and touch you and love you and be with you. I want to be yours, Joel. Not Luke’s. Yours.”

Joel can hear the blood rushing in his ears and he feels like he might actually combust on the spot. His heart races and he closes in on you. “Then that’s what’s gonna happen, darlin’. Just us. Just you. Just me.” Joel hushes, his lips pressing against yours.

You move with him and somehow end up with your back pressed against his plush mattress. Joel begins to remove the boxers he’d given you to wear earlier as you reach for the his jeans, pushing them down his hips fully.

“I want you.” You mumble against his lips.

“You have me, my girl.” He whispers back.

Once out of his jeans, Joel shimmies out of his boxers, leaving you both lying there naked. It’s scary how real it is. Joel is going to fuck you. You’re married and you don’t care. In your mind, your relationship with Luke has been dead for a long time. You don’t have an ounce of emotion in your body for him anymore and with ease, you forget about him once again.

Your attention switches back to Joel so naturally; so fluidly. His cock presses its head against your thigh. He’s so painfully hard you have no idea how he’s restraining himself.

“Need to be inside you, baby… but fuck, I wanna take my time with you.” He utters, his tone dripping with lust. His lips trail from yours to your jaw to your neck, not caring if he leaves marks or not. You’re leaving Luke. You’re his and he’s going to let the world know.

He moves further down, his tongue snaking in between the valley of your breasts and lower to your navel. He sucks at the skin on your tummy, marking you there as well. Another annoying blip of Luke flashes through your mind and how if he saw these marks on your body, it’d be over. It’s over anyways. Those thoughts go as quickly as they came when you realize Joel has buried his nose in the small tufts of hair that litters your skin down there. He’s like a mad man at work, huffing his way down to your folds and breathing in.

“Good God, sweet girl. Need’a taste so bad. Smell so fuckin’ divine I could lose it right now.” He speaks as his nose prods against your opening, his rough fingers meeting your walls to spread them open. His tongue dips in, licking against the swollen bud and it has you seeing stars. Your fingers lace into his hair as you keen into his ministrations, angling your hips up to his mouth.

His name litters the air as it stumbles out of your mouth over and over, like a mantra. Your whimpers of pleasure urges Joel to get more into it, sucking and flicking his tongue against your clit. His finger trails down, slipping into your soaked cunt as he begins to pump two of them in and out slowly.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby… taste like heaven.” He mumbles, his lips wrapping right back around your bud. Your brows tense as Joel curls his finger, hitting the soft spot in your pussy. Your fingers pull his hair tighter, your mouth opening as you moan silently, your orgasm embarrassingly close. He was so fucking good at this.

“Joel… fuck-Joel.”

“I know, baby, I know. I can feel you clenching around my fingers baby girl, go on and let go for me.” He hushes out, his warm breath only adding fuel to the fire. Joel’s expert tongue swirls and presses like he’s dotting his I’s and crossing his T’s and after a few more strokes of his fingers, you can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, I’m coming, Jo- Fuck!” You hiss through your teeth as your hands release the grip on his head and find solace on his bed sheets. Wave after wave hits you and you feel like you can’t even breathe. You try and it’s like it’s stuck in your chest. Joel doesn’t back down either, his tongue, lips and fingers all working away like he’s possessed. He’s addicted to your taste, and he’ll never give it up.

Your body begins to recoil away with overstimulation and once you whimper his name, he comes to. His head peeks up from between your legs and he smiles, his beard damp and cheeks glistening with your slick. It makes your heart skip a beat. He leans his head to your thigh and kisses it, breathing heavily himself.

Joel makes his way up your body, letting his weight down on top of you and it feels like bliss. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. Your lips meet his as he lets your taste yourself on him, his tongue tangling with yours like it was with your clit only moments ago. He’s still hard, probably even more so as you feel it press into your still-sensitive core. His tip begins to slide between your folds, and you spread your legs wider. Joel smiles into the kiss before pulling back.

“Ready for me, baby?” He asks with such softness you can’t believe how lucky you are to be here with him right now. You nod, your eyes opening to meet his. You want to watch him as he enters you.

His gaze is tender and full of what you think could be love. You didn’t want to jump the gun and say that it was, but… if he said it to you, you might just say it back. His hand caresses your cheek as he watches you intently, like he’s dazed. You turn your head into his palm, kissing the rough skin. No words are said, and none need to be. Joel lets out a deep breath as his hand tucks some of your hair behind your ear before trailing it down to your leg and guiding it to wrap around his. His cock slips into you ever so slightly and your breath hitches.

“Please, Joel… I need you… need more.” You speak; your voice hoarse. Joel smiles, leaning down and pecking your lips once more. He nods, words failing to find him now. He looks back into your eyes and pushes his hips forward. His cock sinks into you so deliciously it has you stunned. The way the girth stretches you out feels like you were made to take it. You were made for Joel; you were sure of it.

Joel, on the other hand, was a mess. When this whole thing started, he was so calm, like he’d planned this forever. Maybe he had. He didn’t dare close his eyes, not wanting to miss a second of this as he pushed in further. Soft grunts escape him as he bottoms out and then holds it there, letting the both of you adjust.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice shaky.

You nod, “I’m perfect.”

He nods back, pulling his hips back all the way before pushing them back in. He begins to find a steady rhythm, rocking against your body and that’s when you allow your eyes to close. One of his hands meets the pillow next to your head and he moves quicker. Grunts and moans slip from him which surprise you; you didn’t expect him to be so vocal. You’re right behind him though, his name being moaned into the ether as yours drips from his mouth. He’s already close, you can tell. But he’s trying to hold on as long as he can. He wants to savor this. He’s scared he won’t get this opportunity again.

Joel pulls his cock out of you, his chest rising and falling as he steadies himself. You look up to him, confused as to why he’s stopped. Maybe he’s regretting it. Maybe he feels guilty for it all. You sit up on your elbows, eyebrows knit tight.

“Joel, everything okay?”

He wipes his face and nods, “Yeah, baby… on your knees for me.”

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn around, gathering yourself on to your hands and knees to which Joel groans. He grabs your hips, pulling you against him and you feel his hard cock rut into your behind slightly. Joel brings a hand down to your ass, the smack echoing in the dimly lit room as you hum in delight.

“Gonna fuck you good, sweet girl. ‘Member I promised that?” He says, guiding his cock back into your slick. You breathe out, arms faltering slightly as you try and hold yourself up for him.

Joel smacks your ass again, “I said, remember? Use your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes, I remember.” You hiss, your pussy gripping around his length like a vice.

“Fuck- r-remember what? What did I tell you I was gonna do?” Another smack, your cheeks branded with his handprint.

“Ah, Joel-fuck! You-you said you were going to fuck me good. Please… do it. Fuck me.” You beg, your tone dripping with desperation. Joel smiles and kneads the skin he’d been rough with as he begins to pump in and out again.

“Good girl.”

He grabs your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moves. He pumps into you over and over and you can’t think straight. Your arms give out not even two minutes into it and your head buries itself in his pillows. Joel doesn’t care; he just grips you tighter to make sure you don’t get too far away.

“That’s it, you’re takin’ it so fuckin’ good, baby. So good. So… mine. All mine, right?” He moans, his voice rough.

You don’t respond, too busy focusing on his cock that stretches your pussy out. Focused on the way he seems to hit that one spot in your cunt over and over. He takes his hand to your ass again, this time smacking it but grabbing a fist full afterwards.

“I said, right?”

“Yes, Joel, all yours! Only fucking yours.”

It’s like music to Joel’s ears as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulling your back against his torso. His hips never stop, even as you both adjust to the new position, his left hand reaching up to your breast to squeeze and his right flying down to your clit, rubbing quick circles. He wants you to come with him and he’s ridiculously close, but so were you.

“Shit, baby,” He heaves, “‘M gonna cum, gonna fill you up. That okay?” He asks through his rough grunting.

You nod immediately, not minding any implications, “Fuck, yes, Joel. Please. Please fuckin’ finish inside me.” Your orgasm teeters the edge as his fingers and cock assault your core, seconds from overflowing.

Hearing you beg Joel to finish inside you is all he needed to let go. Both of you cry out in pleasure as you feel Joel’s hot seed coat your walls. He fucks it further into you, no sign of him pulling out, but you didn’t want him to. Your body ignites as your own orgasm hits, your pussy clenching around Joel’s cock, milking him dry. You’ve never felt this sort of electric current spread through your veins, this liquid fire working its way to every point of your body and it’s just too much.

Finally, after a few more moments of Joel thrusting; his hand on your clit seizes its movements and he pulls out. Your head falls back on to his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, body completely spent. You feel his touch graze over you skin as he trails them up to your breasts and back down your tummy, like he’s trying to map every inch of your body to his memory. He’s so scared he’s going to lose you, and you can tell. His lips ghost over your neck and shoulders and back, while his hands palm at your skin.

“Joel, settle down.” You giggle; your eyes still closed in euphoria.

He sighs, “Sorry, Darlin’. I’m just… I’m just feelin’ you is all.”

“I know you are and that’s okay. But we’re going to do this again, you know? Again, and again, and again.” You say with a smile as you turn to face him again. You can feel his seed begin to leak out of you and you clench, wanting to keep it inside.

“You sure?” Joel asks, his body hovering yours as you lay on your back.

You nod; eyes heavy with exhaustion even if you’d napped most of the day. Joel relaxes slightly, easing his body down to lay on yours and it has you reeling.

“I love this feeling. You on me. Us. All of it.” Your words come out in a mumble and Joel smiles, kissing your chin and then your cheeks.

“I know. Me too.” He hums, his lips lingering over your skin as he ghosts more kisses across your face. He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. “So, how are we…? How are you… ya know, gonna tell Luke?”

You pause for a long time. Each second that passes has Joel’s heart racing quicker and harder. What if you’d changed your mind?

Another pause and a breath; you speak. “I… don’t know.”

Joel doesn’t move. He just lays there on top of you and lets you think a while. “How do I tell my husband I want a divorce?”

“You go up to him and say ‘Luke. I want a divorce.’” Joel says plainly and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Is it really that simple?” You ask, your eyes meeting his.

He pauses this time, his eyes dilating as he gazes upon your face. “No. It isn’t.”

You nod, eyelids closing. “I know.”

“But we’ll figure it out. Okay? No way in hell am I ever lettin’ you go now. I’ll fight Luke for you.” He speaks. You laugh again but you know he’s serious. He would fight Luke. He’d win too.

“That won’t be necessary… but I’d fight him too.” This time Joel laughs and leans down, nuzzling his head into your neck and wrapping his arms around your frame. You’ve never felt so safe. So loved.

You don’t know when you fall asleep, but it happens. Your body melds into Joel’s and the both of you lull into a deep sleep. You don’t wake up until late morning the next day. Joel’s already out of bed, probably somewhere on the farm doing his duties. You sit up, the blankets pooling around your waist when you look over to the clock on Joel’s bedside table. It’s a quarter passed 10 already. You decide to get up, getting dressed in Joel’s shirt from yesterday and a pair of his sweats. You see an old sweater in his drawers too and you figured you’d help yourself. It is getting chilly outside after all. Plus, you had the inkling Joel was the type to like you in his clothes anyways.

After slipping on your shoes, you decided to head to the barn. He was more than likely there, considering Estrella was in active labor yesterday. The cold air nipped your nose as you hugged yourself, crossing the yard to the barn. It was open, the overhead light flipped on. You could hear humming from Joel in the distance and you smiled.

It was warmer in the barn. Joel turned the space heater on for the calf and for the mama.

“Joel?” You called out, waiting for his response.

He peeks his head around the corner, his eyes wide as he smiles to you. He steps from behind the wall, wiping his hands on a rag that he slings over his shoulder. Heat pools in your tummy as he approaches you, the simple gesture turning you on.

“Hi, darlin’. Everything okay?” He asks. You nod. “Sleep okay?”

You nod again. “Best sleep I think I’ve ever had. I was so warm and cozy.”

Joel smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Yeah? Me too. And to think… we’re gonna be sleepin’ like that from here on out, huh?”

You feel your stomach coil in a way that makes you nervous. It’s excitement, but it’s nerve-wracking. You’re really going to have to tell Luke it’s over. Your mind swims with different ideas of ways to break it to him. Maybe you could tell him you’re actually not interested in men anymore. Yeah, that could work. The good ol’ lesbian switcheroo. Or maybe you could tell him you’re dying. You could fake your death and just never have to confront what’s really going on. You could never tell him you’re in love with another man. With someone he’s known since he was a child. You sigh as you realize you just need to tell him you’re unhappy. That you don’t want this anymore… that you don’t want him. Maybe you could even leave Joel out of it. Just tell him you’re done, that you want to go back to the city. Luke would. He wouldn’t stay here. That way you could sneak back and live with Joel. But that was a longshot.

Joel notices your silence and he nudges you slightly, “Baby? Everythin’ okay in that pretty lil’ head of yours?”

Your eyes snap up to Joels, slightly widened but you nod.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m okay. Just thinking of what I should tell Luke.”

Joel nods, opening his mouth to say something when the devil himself appears.

“Tell Luke what?” Luke speaks, smiling at you and Joel as he steps into the barn. He must have seen you come inside it.

Your heart stills and you feel it drop to your ass as you whip around, eyes meeting his. Joel’s hands drop from your waist, and you can’t even think straight. Your heart pounds so hard you feel like you’re rocking on a boat during a thunderstorm, the waves threatening to consume you.

Luke begins to notice that Joel’s hands were on you, once gripped tightly around the sides of your body, now limp at his sides. Twitching. Like they’re aching to hold you again. He notices the clothes you adorn. They’re not yours and they’re definitely not his. Luke’s stomach drops and his smile falls, his own heart racing. Luke might be oblivious to some things, but he’s not an idiot, and he quickly pieces together what’s happening. And then he sees the marks on Joel’s neck. And then on yours.

“What. The. Fuck?” He hisses. His face begins to burn red and he sees it too.

“Luke, please. Let me explain-” You begin, your voice panicked and desperate.

“Oh, no. You don’t need to explain. I know exactly what is going on here… and you know what? I just knew this was going to happen. I knew it. I had this feeling and look! I’m right!”

Your brows knit together and you cross your arms. “Luke, what?”

Luke scoffs, “Babe… you don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting up at five… six in the morning to make Joel coffee? Or the way you’d bounce over to the guest house, the brightest smile on your face like you were going to see the love of your life? You’ve never smiled like that with me! If you don’t think I’ve noticed that then you must be dumber than I thought you were. So fucking dumb.”

Your heart breaks at his words. You know he’s just trying to hurt you, but man does it fucking suck. You loved him wholeheartedly at one point and now you just don’t know him. You haven’t for months. Probably even before you got to the farm. Tears well up in your eyes as you go to say something but get cut off.

“Listen here, you little shit. You will not talk to her like that any longer. Do you hear me?” Joel seethes, but Luke isn’t going to back down.

He laughs, “Upset ‘cause I called her dumb? She just threw everything away for you! You, Joel. 50 years old and what to show for yourself? Living on a dead woman’s farm? No family, no kids. You just had to steal someone else’s wife, huh? You know what? You can have her. She’s a fucking whore anyways!”

“Luke, stop.” You say, your voice wavering as you try and find it, your heart shattering at his words.

“You little fucker. You can say all the shit you want to, Luke,” Joel begins, “But in the end, it was me who fucked your wife, wasn’t it? She had to turn to me ‘cause it was you who couldn’t take care of her.”

You look at Joel with wide eyes at his crude words and you scoff, looking back and forth as the two of them begin to argue. They raise their voices, stepping closer to one another and it just becomes too much. You break.

“Stop! The both of you! Fucking stop!” You yell, your eyes filling with tears. They spill wildly and you don’t even try and wipe them away. Luke looks at you in annoyance and as soon as Joel’s eyes meet yours, he’s nervous. He’s realized what he’s said in anger and he hates to see you cry. He hates that he’s part of the reason you are. Joel tries to reach out to you, uttering a ‘baby’ and you push him back.

“No. Just… stop.” You sob. Your voice is small and nervous, but you knew whatever the outcome of this was, it’d end in disaster. It’d end in heartbreak.

“Luke,” You begin, “I was so in love with you, I mean, fuck. I married you. I moved seven hours out of the city to live in the fucking countryside with you! And not once, did you take my feelings into consideration. The more I think about it; I don’t think you ever did. It was all about you. You’ve been horrible to me the last however long we’ve been here-”

“I haven’t been horrible to you-”

“Let me speak!” You yell back, your fists tightening into little balls. Luke rolls his eyes but shuts up. Joel’s eyes flicker down to your fists, and he physically holds himself back from reaching for them. From reaching for you. He so desperately wants you in his arms, telling you it’ll be okay, that’s he’s sorry, but he knows he can’t. You wouldn’t let him.

“You have been horrible. Not speaking to me or berating me when you do. Pushing me for sex when I didn’t want it. Calling me names and meaning them. ‘Whore’? Really, Luke? The venom you have in your voice when you talk to me… you can’t deny any of that.”

Luke stays silent because he knows you’re right. He can’t look at you anymore and turns his head, his eyes closing as his shoulders slump.

“And you,” You speak, turning to Joel, “What the fuck was that? Boasting like I’m some… trophy? Like I’m-”

“I cheated on you too.” Luke says. Your eyes widen and both you and Joel turn to him. “I am cheating on you. With uh, Caroline.” He says, mentioning his coworker. She was a couple years younger than you and Luke. Newer to the company. You’re pretty sure Luke mentioned he was training her when she was hired about a year ago.

You can’t say you’re shocked. You can’t really say anything as there isn’t much for you to say.

“So, we’re both not innocent then, huh?” You speak. Your voice is serious and final, “Let’s get divorced. We should end this.”

Luke scoffs, crossing his arms. His face begins to falter. He knows you’re right. This should end. He wants to be bitter and petty and hurt you more, but he knows he’s hurt you enough. At one point, he cared about you too. You were the light of his life and then things changed. Work got stressful, Karla died, and his family pressured him to take the farm. He didn’t want to. He has no clue how to take care of a farm, clearly. He had no clue how to take care of you. And to him, it seemed like Joel did.

“Let’s talk about this inside.” He sighs.

A couple hours later you find yourself walking out the back door of the farmhouse and down the hill to Joel’s guest house. Your cheeks are tear stained, and nose is tinged red from crying. No shoes on. The familiar ache of the cold gravel against the heels of your feet almost comforting you.

Once on the rickety porch you’d stepped on to hundreds of times before, you approached the door, rapping on it lightly. Joel only took a few moments to answer it.

“Hi.” You said as you watched him. He looked nervous, cheeks pink with anxiety. Or maybe he’d been crying too. You didn’t know.

“Can I come in?” You asked. He nodded immediately, stepping aside. He didn’t speak though. Maybe he was too nervous to. Too scared. He was terrified this was it.

You made your way to the plaid couch you’d grown to love so much, settling against the soft cushions and breathing out. Joel lingered, standing by the door. He was unsure of what he should do next. Should he sit down? Should he reach out to you? Comfort you? Should he just get the fuck off this farm and never look back? No, he wouldn’t do that. He needed you too badly.

Your reddened, watery eyes looked up to Joel causing his breath to stutter. The anxiety bubbled up from his chest to his throat and he clears it, watching for your next move. You sniffle, rubbing your eyes before holding your arms out to Joel. You needed to be held. He moved to you in lightning speed, scooping you up into his arms and cradling you delicately. Joel settles on to the couch with you in his grasp. He presses small kisses against your temples, scalp and forehead, his heart racing a mile a minute.

“I’m here, baby. Not goin’ nowhere. Not ever. You have me.” He speaks. His words are desperate and needy, like he needs to ingrain it into your mind that he’s yours. Because he is.

Joel holds you for a long time. He’s not sure how long, but it had to be at least an hour or so. His hands rub up and down your back, tracing the curve of your waist and spine. He wants to comfort you, just like you being here comforts him.

It’s a little longer before you speak. You sniffle and pull back slightly, looking up to him. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

His heart races again, “Sorry? What’re you sorry for, darlin’?”

“For everything.” You squeek, your voice cracking. “For getting you into this mess.”

He sighs, “Baby… that’s not somethin’ you need to be sorry for. I wanted you just as bad as you wanted me. Even more so.”

You look away and blink, shrugging. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t know what else to say.”

“That’s alright. You don’t gotta know what to say. Just let me hold you, okay? Whatever happens, we’ll get through it. You and I.” He says, burying his head against the top of yours, breathing in the lingering tea tree scent from his shampoo. His eyes close, heart hammering in his chest which you can hear. The corners of your lips turn upwards, tears springing to your eyes.

“Are you nervous, Joel?”

He pauses a moment before nodding. “Lil’ bit. Just scared you’re gonna go away or somethin’.”

You pause this time, your mind drifting back to your conversation with Luke inside.

“So, sleeping with Joel, huh?” Luke says. You roll your eyes as you sit on the velvet green couch in the living room. He sits on the opposite side of it.

“Sleeping with Caroline, huh?” You retort and he blows a raspberry. There’s a long silence before anyone decides to speak. Tears prick your eyes, and you feel yourself just wanting to run to Joel. He’d make everything feel okay again. You wipe your eyes and Luke sighs.

“I don’t know why you’re crying. This has been coming for a long time. You’re so fucking sensitive.” He says, his tone quiet. He’s annoyed.

“I know. It still hurts though. Sorry for being sensitive, I guess.”

Another long silence, either of you not knowing what to say. He decides to finally look at you, his eyes gazing over your features, appreciating the way your eyelashes curl and then way your eyes glisten, still so full of life and love despite what’s going on. The last time he’s going to do that.

Luke sighs. His next words almost shock you.

“I’m sorry. You know that right?” He speaks. Your eyebrows knit and you look at him, more tears falling.

“Are you?”

He pauses again. “Yes. I didn’t mean to turn into such an asshole. I didn’t mean to make you run into the arms of someone who could treat you better. I just… stopped caring. It’s not okay. I’m sorry.” Luke taking accountability? This was new.

You shrug, wiping your tears away. You were so tired of crying.

“Well, I appreciate that, Luke. It sucks it turned out like this. That we… Turned out like this.”

“So, what should we do? What… do you want to do?” Luke asks. He’s calm. Sad, but he’s calm. No more venom. He’s ready for this to be over, and frankly, so you were you.

“I think a divorce would be best. There’s no love here. Not how it used to be anyways.” Which was true. You’d always have a love for Luke even if you weren’t in love with him.

He nods, wiping his nose. He wasn’t a crier, but this was hard for him too. You didn’t think it would be, but he was always surprising you.

“Okay. What about… the farm? I’m not staying here anymore, my family will have to decide what happen-”

“Joel should have it.” You say, interrupting him. “He’s been here 25 years. He can take care of it better than anyone in your family would. Hell, Karla couldn’t even take care of it. That’s why she hired him.”

He scoffs, “Oh, so you want Joel to get the farm so you can stay and live out your weird farm fantasy with him?” Luke spits, that venom seeping back into his words. He was always going to be like that.

You sigh, closing your eyes. “No. That’s not it at all. I don’t even know what’s happening with Joel and I, Luke. I don’t know where I’m going after this. But let’s face it… Karla would want him to have it.”

Luke huffs and stands up, pacing the room as he thinks. It’s another few moments before he says anything. He turns towards you, his eyes sad but he gives you a curt nod. His shoulders fall in defeat. He didn’t want to fight anymore. “You’re right. Joel should have it. Even if you decide to stay here with him. Which is insane to me… you didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”

You nod softly, remembering those months ago when Luke told you you’d be moving here. How much you hated it. How you’d stay up at night and have panic attacks at the idea of leaving the city. Now look at you. You couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I’ll tell my family. No one else really wanted it anyways. Not even Nick. So, it’s Joel’s… and… yours?” He asks cautiously.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Luke. I already told you that. We’ll… see.”

He nods again, his shoulders slumping further as he exhales a breath he wasn’t aware that he was even holding. You stand, knees a little wobbly from the adrenaline finally settling in your body.

“So, this is it then?” Luke says, biting down on his bottom lip. You nod.

“Yeah. It is.”

He looks away from you, looking anywhere besides where you stood. He knows he screwed up and he feels bad, yet a part of him feels free. He decides to step forward, awkwardly opening his arms to you and you hesitate, but you take it. The both of you have a final embrace. It’s empty. He just feels like another body against yours. There’s no emotion, but somehow, it’s the closure you needed.

“So, I’ll see ya?” Luke says, inhaling the scent of you one last time. He nearly scowls. Tea tree. He hated tea tree.

“Yeah, maybe not.” You laughed, tears spilling from your eyes. You wipe them away and he smiles, laughing too.

“Are you nervous, Joel?”

He pauses a moment before nodding. “Lil’ bit. Just scared you’re going to go away or somethin’.”

You pause, slightly unsure of what to say. It makes him more nervous.

“Do you want me to?” You finally ask Joel. He pushes you back, looking into your eyes.

“Do I want you to leave?” He asks. He looks like you’ve asked the silliest question in the world, but you nod anyways. He doesn’t speak for a moment, trying to find the right words to say.

“If you decide to leave, there’s nothing I can do about that… but I think it’d just down right kill me.”

His words make your heart leap, and you close your eyes, not wanting anymore tears to spill. You lean forward, burying your face in Joel’s chest. His fingers lace through your hair, his whole being trying to convey the fact that he wants you to stay right here with him.

“Then I’ll stay.” You mumble into the fabric of his sweater, but he doesn’t quite hear you.

“Hmm?”

You peer up to him, your lashes damp as your glossy eyes look into his dark, anxious ones. It takes his breath away.

“I said I will stay. Here with you.”

Joel’s heart stops as he finally hears you and all he can do is close his eyes and pull you back into him. He holds you there against him, not daring to move, not daring to let go. And you stay. You don’t wiggle, you don’t move, you sit there breathing him in deeply. The comfort this man gave you was insane. You could live here in his arms, on this farm, hours from a real town or city and you would be happy. You’d have him and he’d have you.

Images of your life on the farm with Joel flash through your mind and it has you reeling. Winter on the farm and being bundled up with him in bed, trying to stay warm with the space heater since the main house has a mean draft. Maybe you could convince him to get matching pajamas with you. Christmas ones with trees and stars on it.

You imagine helping Joel with Estrella and her baby in the spring. He could teach you how to tend to the chickens and horses so you could help fetch the eggs without getting pecked and even brush the horse's manes, giving them a braid or two. Joel’s been talking about starting a garden. It’d be the perfect time to get cucumbers planted, and tomatoes even.

Maybe in the summertime, you and Joel could lay a blanket on the hill in the backyard and watch the clouds pass by and as the day turned to night, you could count the stars in the sky with him. Maybe he’d lean over and kiss you, his hand trailing from your jaw to your neck to your waist. He’d take you on that blanket, under the moon, making love to the only woman he’d ever wanted in his life to stay with him for good.

And maybe that fall, you’d run into the stables, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gripped the little stick in your hand. Joel would look at you with concern, his brows knitted together tightly before looking down to what was gripped in your palm. He’d rush over to you, asking what it said, and you’d smile, nodding your head.

“Thank you.” He speaks. It’d been God knows how long since someone had said something, but you didn’t mind. The silence was comfortable with him. You look up to him again, the side of your cheek smooshed against his peck, and he smiles.

“Thank you? For what?” You ask. Joel’s hands caress the side of your cheek that’s not pressed against his chest, and he hums.

“For stayin’. Lord nows why you’d stay, but I’m glad. Real glad, my sweet girl.”

“Yeah, well… this place has grown on me. Who would have thought?” You say, smiling softly. Joel smiles too.

“Yeah, just the charm of the farm, huh, sugar? Nothing else?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm… nope. I just really like Estrella. And her new baby is really cute too.”

Joel’s eyes roll but then he leans down and pecks your lips in a sequence. He presses his lips against yours over and over and you think to yourself there’s no way you could ever get sick of this.

He pulls back and wipes the hair out of your face, “Just so God damn pretty, baby girl. Can’t believe I’ll get to look at you every day. Get to touch you and kiss you.” Joel speaks and he’s really just talking to himself. He’s trying to convince himself this is really happening. You sit up, placing your legs on either side of Joel as you straddle him. His eyes flash with desire and it goes straight to his groin. You can feel it as his length pokes against your core but he doesn’t try anything. He just looks at you.

“Sorry, darlin’. Don’t gotta do nothin’ about it, just happens when I’m around you.”

You shake your head, corners of your mouth flitting upwards. “It’s okay, Joel. I don’t mind it. I kinda love that I can turn you on so easily.”

Joel smirks, “’Kinda’ love it? What do you think cause I’m damn near geriatric I shouldn’t be able to get it up anymore?”

“Oh my god. That’s not what I’m saying.” You say as your face burns, and you roll your eyes.

He laughs, “I know, baby. I just like givin’ you a hard time.”

“Hmm… well, I know something else that's hard you can give to me.” You smirk. You’re kidding and he knows it but it still turns him on even further. His grip on your waist tightens before trailing it down to your ass and pulling you against him. You feel that familiar ache in between your legs as his tip teases you through your pants. You shake your head.

“Joel…” You say warningly.

“I know, I know. It’s not really a sexy time right now, is it?”

You nod, “Not really… maybe later though? Luke’s packing right now. He said he’ll be gone by tomorrow morning. Could I sleep here with you tonight?”

Joel’s heart skips a beat, “I wouldn’t think you’d be anywhere else.”

Silence falls between the two of you as Joel takes your hands into his. His fingers pad over your delicate skin, tracing up the length of them and over the chipped polish on your nails. He laces his with yours and looks into your eyes. Joel feels his heart thump against his chest, an overwhelming sensation bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He’s going to say it. He’s never said it in his entire life to anyone. But he knows he feels it with you. It might be too soon, but in this moment he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know if you feel it too, but he thinks so. Joel’s nervous, and when he opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

“I know.” You breathe, gripping on to his fingers tightly. Your voice waivers. “You don’t have to say it. I… I know.” And you do. You know exactly what he’s going to say and yes, of course you want to hear it. You feel it too. But you’re not ready. Not yet.

“I feel the same way.” You hush, bringing his knuckles up to your lips and pressing small kisses against them.

Joel’s eyes get blurry, and he nods, huffing slightly. He leans in and kisses you and you kiss him back. It’s simple, but passionate. You can feel the emotion he radiates for you and you hope he can feel it right back.

“I want to say it though, baby girl. You mean so much to me. Greatest fuckin’ thing to ever happen to me if I'm quite honest. Despite some trouble here and there.” He hums, lips pressing to your cheek and jaw. Your eyes close as you savor his touches, and you hum back.

“Me too. Maybe that’s crazy to say but I’ve never had anyone care for me the way you do, Joel. So, trust me. I feel the exact same way about you. Let’s just wait a little longer to say it. I mean I just found out I’m getting a divorce.”

Joel pulls back and looks into your eyes. They hold stars and galaxies and Joel is convinced that he could look into them forever. One look from you and he’d know everything would work out. You were his home, not this farm. And when he thought about it, it was well worth the wait for him to find you. He’d spend another 50 years alone if that meant he could spend eternity with you when it was all said and done.

The both of you knew there was still a lot to work out, but whatever happened, it’d be you two. That was all you really needed.

“I think… we should go into the kitchen and tear up the rest of that pecan pie. Whaddya think?” Joel smiles, pulling you with him as he gets up from the couch. His arms wrap around your waist as yours wrap around his neck and you smile, nodding to him.

“Sounds good to me. I could go for a lil’ something sweet right now.”

Thank you for reading this. As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated and if you enjoyed reading it, let me know! ♥️

[pedroscurls]

stranded (one-shot)

summary: your car breaks down on the side of the road and a stranger decides to help you out... and you have no choice but to accept his help.

pairing: no outbreak/dark!joel miller x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), DUBCON - please read at own risk / heed warnings!, stockholm syndrome, unprotected p in v, rough sex, manhandling, oral sex (m receiving), orgasm denial, begging, creampie, joel ties you up, spanking, light choking, fingering, age gap (reader is in 30s, joel is in 50s), no use of y/n. word count: 5.1k a/n: and here's yet another story where i'm stepping out of my comfort zone. i've always wanted to write dark!joel, but felt like i couldn't do it justice... but then ali's (@pedgito) hosting a writing challenge (spring fever) and i figured... why not? i chose backwoods horror #1 STRANDED/SIDE OF THE ROAD. please heed the warnings, y'all. this is gonna be very dark and filthy, so if you're not into that sort of thing, that's ok!

You had no idea what you were thinking—taking a solo cross country road trip after quitting your job. Maybe you thought that you’d find yourself, find some kind of purpose that was lacking in your life, but instead, you’re stranded on the side of the road. Gas empty, no cell service, and phone already on its last battery. 

This is where you’re going to die—you’re sure of it. It’s how all horror movies start and despite the sun still high in the sky, you’re increasingly getting worried about what could happen when night falls. You scream at the top of your lungs, the sound echoing through the vast empty void. 

God, no one would hear you scream for help if you were in real danger and that thought simply frightens you. Your friends had all but praised you for this trip—this journey to self-discovery and reflection. Your parents, on the other hand, had already been concerned when you said you would be alone on this trip. A woman, traveling the world by herself? Well, that’s just asking for trouble, they said. 

And now you understand their concern. You understand their fear about you traveling all alone because of where you are now—in the middle of fucking nowhere. You should have refilled your gas when you had the chance, should have charged your phone while you were driving. Should have, should have, should have. 

10%—your phone reads. You try to send a text to your parents, to send them your location, but every attempted text just comes back with the message in red text and an exclamation point next to it: NOT DELIVERED! You raise your phone in the sky, hoping that maybe you’ll get one bar of service, but no luck. 

The trip had been successful, up until this point. You were in Texas, that you were sure of. But where in Texas? You had no fucking clue. 

You lean against the side of your car—the sun glaring down at you and you can feel a thin sheet of sweat on the side of your neck. Why did you think this was even a good idea? Traveling cross country without a plan—how fucking naive. 

Your battery drains fast and your phone finally shuts off. You let out a quiet sigh of frustration and open the passenger door of your car to toss your useless phone inside. Just as you’re about to climb in, you hear a faint noise of a car engine. Suddenly, you feel hopeful—maybe you won’t die here after all.

The sudden excitement that you feel overpowers the possibility that what you’re doing is absolutely dangerous. You’re waving your arms in the air, trying to track down the person in the car who’s making their way in your direction. It’s possible that this person whose truck is slowing down as it nears you could very well be a serial killer, but what choice did you have? 

The truck pulls up behind your car and quickly, you run over to your savior. Your hero. 

“Hi. My car’s dead, my phone’s dead, and I just need a lift to the next gas station... Or any place where I can use a phone to give someone a call,” you blurt out, breathing heavily. 

He turns his head slightly in your direction—eyes gazing at your face, then down to your shoulders and the rest of your body that he can see from the driver’s side. You’re leaning against the opened window of the passenger side of the truck. You don’t belong here, he knows that for sure. 

“Next gas station is in the next town over,” he finally answers. 

“Could you give me a lift there? I can pay you. Let me just grab my things and—”

“No need,” he interrupts, voice low. “I’m headin’ in that direction anyway. Get in.”

You grin and Joel’s jaw ticks briefly. God, you’re beautiful and it’s truly been a long time since he’s been with—

“Promise you won’t kill me?” you laugh, climbing into his truck and interrupting his thoughts. 

Joel finally takes in the rest of your frame and can immediately feel his length stirring beneath his dark jeans. His hands grip the steering wheel to ease some pressure, but you’re still talking and you’re laughing and it shoots straight to the center of his pants. It must be his lucky day. 

“If I were to kill you, I don’t think I’d be confessing that, darlin’,” he answers—the corners of his lips lift slightly. Oh, you had no idea what you just got into by climbing into his truck. 

“Right,” you reply. “That’s a good point.” You look at him—taking note of his damp hair that’s slicked away from his face, his broad frame, salt and pepper patchy beard. You realize that he must be in his fifties, but you can’t help but notice how handsome he is. That’s a good sign, you think. He won’t hurt you. He’s going to drop you off in the next town and hopefully, you’ll be able to head back home in the morning. 

“I’m guessing you live around here?” you ask, feeling the truck move back onto the main street. You glance out the window, watching your car become smaller and smaller as Joel drives further away from it. 

“Yeah,” he answers. “Guessin’ you ain’t from around here.”

“That obvious?” 

He just nods. Joel needs to focus on the road ahead of him. He has to make it seem like he’s not a threat, like he’s not just about to take you directly to his home. His secluded home. 

You introduce yourself formally, telling him your name and turning your body to face him. “What’s your name?”

“Joel.”

“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” you smile in his direction and Joel glances at you from the corner of his eyes. 

“Not much to say.”

“Well, how long is the drive to the next town? If you don’t have music, I’m gonna end up talking. I don’t usually like it when it’s too quiet on a drive and—”

“It’s about fifteen minutes,” he interrupts. “Radio is busted.” 

“So talking it is then.”

“No use in talkin’ if we ain’t gonna be seein’ each other after this.” 

“I guess you’re right,” you answer with a sigh. You try to remain quiet, fidgeting with your hands as you stare out the window. Every few seconds or so, you glance over at him and you can’t fully read his expression. He’s so stoic that there’s a part of you that feels like an inconvenience to him. Maybe he should have just kept on driving. 

“How long were you stranded for?” Joel asks. 

“About a couple of hours. Couldn’t get reception to call someone.”

“Yeah, phones don’t work out here.” Joel shrugs. “You eat anythin’ yet?” 

You shake your head. “Skipped breakfast this morning to get on the road.”

“My place is just a couple of minutes away,” Joel says. “I need to grab a few things. Got some food and water for you,” he offers. 

You smile and reach out to rest a hand on his forearm. It’s an innocent gesture, but it makes Joel shift in the driver’s seat. Your touch is so soft, so gentle and he flexes his arm underneath your fingertips. “You’re sweet, Joel. That sounds great. I am starving.” 

Joel bites back a smirk. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

Your hand drops from his arm and there’s a subtle frown that settles on his lips before he pulls off the main road. Within minutes, Joel pulls up to his secluded home. When he shuts off the car, he looks over at you and you’re still smiling. 

“This is a cute place, Joel,” you tell him, climbing out of the truck. 

He follows you and rounds the truck until he’s standing behind you. His fingers itch to reach out to touch you—especially when you raise your arms over your head to stretch, the ends of your shirt lifting just above the waistband of your denim shorts. He wants to touch every inch of you and he lets out a quiet grunt when you accidentally fall back against him. 

“Sorry,” you say, looking over at him from over your shoulder. 

“S’fine,” Joel mumbles and then walks past you to walk towards his front door. He unlocks it and opens it for you, watching you step across the threshold as you look around with curiosity. 

“It’s very dark in here,” you point out, walking further into his home. You see a light switch on the wall and flip it on, illuminating his entire home. Surprisingly, Joel’s large hand encompasses your wrist in a tight grip. You let out a quiet gasp and turn around to look up at him—eyes wide, lips slightly parted. 

“You always like to make yourself comfortable in a stranger’s home?” he asks with a threatening tone. 

“S–sorry,” you whisper, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip but he doesn’t budge. His grip just tightens. “Joel, you’re hurting me.”

“Pretty little thing,” he mumbles, stepping closer to you. “It’s like you were waitin’ f’me out there,” Joel says quietly. 

“Joel—”

“Shh.” Joel brings a finger up to your lips and his eyes drift down, moving his thumb to brush against you. “Shh, baby.” 

“I think I want to leave now,” you answer. “I think I just want to head into town and—”

“Oh darlin’,” he grins. “Ain’t no town for at least another fifty or some miles.” 

“B–But you said—”

“Guilty,” Joel interrupts, turning you so that your back presses against the wall. He cages you in, hand still gripping your wrist as the other comes up to rest gently over your throat. “M’sorry I lied to ya.” 

Your eyes widen in horror, the realization finally hitting you like a freight train. You had spent most of the drive admiring him—his broad frame, his quiet and mysterious nature, his large hands that gripped the steering wheel, his husky southern accent—that you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

This was a bad idea. 

Getting into his truck was a bad fucking idea. 

“I just want to go home,” you whisper. “Please just let me go home and—”

“Shh,” he repeats. Joel steps closer to you, his nose brushing against your own. “Gonna keep you here all to myself. Been a while since I had a little plaything like yourself.” 

You shake your head. “Please, I’ll give you all the money I have back in my car.”

“Don’t want your money. Want you.” 

“Joel—”

“Love the way my name comes out of your mouth, darlin’. Say it again.”

You shake your head, closing your mouth shut. You know you’re in danger, but you’re not sure why you feel a familiar wetness pool between your legs. Your body is responding to him—to this stranger… this handsome fucking stranger who can easily strangle you if he wanted to. 

“Say. It. Again,” he repeats.

“Joel,” you whisper. 

“Good girl,” Joel grins proudly. He drops his hand from your throat and releases his grip around your wrist. He stares into your eyes, searching for any hesitation or any inclination that you’re going to run and leave. He sees your eyes flicker to the front door and he narrows his eyes—his large hand once more coming up to splay against your throat. Joel applies just a bit of pressure and he watches your eyes go wide again. “Wouldn’t think about it, if I were you.” 

You beg with your eyes—apologetic and pleading for him to just let you go. “I’ll be good,” you mumble against his grip. “I promise. I–I’ll be good.”

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun,” Joel nods, releasing his grip around your throat. “And I bet if I were to reach between your legs, I’d feel just how fuckin’ wet you are f’me, won’t I?”

You shake your head in defiance. “N–No…” 

Joel lets out a chuckle. “Mmm, that so?” He tugs on the waistband of your denim shorts and pulls you to him. He’s so rough and there’s an excitement that courses through your veins. He tugs down your shorts and panties down your legs, looking down at your white lacy thong with a grin. He can see a blotch of wetness and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as he lets out a contented sigh. “I bet you taste fuckin’ good too,” he whispers. 

You suddenly feel self-conscious and your hands immediately move to try and tug down the end of your shirt to cover your lower half. Joel just shakes his head and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head against the wall. You squirm against his grip and he kicks your legs apart, stepping in front of you to keep them spread open. His free hand comes down and immediately runs the pads of his fingers across the length of your sex—your body betrays you because you let out a quiet whimper as you arch your back against his touch. 

“Wet,” he points out. “You like this, don’t you?” 

You shake your head. 

“Liar,” he chuckles. Joel wastes no time in sliding two of his thick fingers past your folds—your warm, tight, and so fucking wet that a large grin spreads across his lips. 

You squirm against him at the sudden and rough intrusion, eyes gazing up at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and more than likely sinister thoughts, but you can’t help but notice his grin and the cute fucking dimple that appears on his cheek. You shouldn’t like this, but your body is yearning for more. Yearning for him. 

Joel’s thick fingers plunge into you repeatedly—his other hand gripping your wrists so tight above your head that you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You shut your eyes tightly, keeping your lips in a thin line and forcing yourself to stay quiet because you know that if you make a sound, it’s only going to fuel him further. 

His eyes stare deeply at you and you’re so wet that Joel’s fingers pump into you with ease. He can see you struggling against his grip and he leans closer, lips near your ear as he whispers huskily. “Lemme hear you, baby.” 

You shake your head in defiance, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. You suck in a breath when his thumb brushes against your clit and a quiet—almost inaudible—moan escapes your lips. 

“Ah, darlin’,” Joel grins, gently nipping at your earlobe. His grip around your wrists loosen just slightly and he’s distracted, yearning to pull more sounds out of you and it gives you just the right moment to push him away. You miss his fingers immediately, a loud squelch echoing the walls when his fingers slip out of you. 

With as much strength as you can muster, you shove him so hard that he stumbles backwards with a grunt. You look around haphazardly, eyes wide, heart beating out of your chest. You’re very well aware that your lower half is bare, but you think maybe you can make a run for it—you just need to grab his keys, run out the door into his truck and drive away. 

You glance over your shoulder and Joel chuckles. He fucking laughs at your poor attempt at running away because he takes three strides in your direction and takes a fistful of your hair. You let out a loud yelp and he’s already quick to bend you over the back of his couch—the edge of it digging into your lower abdomen.

You’re already trying to squirm away, but his grip in your hair tightens and pain rushes through you. You’re about to beg him to stop, to beg him to let you go, but you feel his free hand connect with your backside. The slap reverberates through your entire being and the sound of his hand coming in contact with your ass echoes through his quiet home. 

“You just got here, baby,” he growls—he doesn’t let up, your skin already reddening with each spank. “You can’t leave me yet.”

“I–I–” you mumble and your body reacts automatically, pushing back into him. “Please!” 

“M’gonna have to tie you up, I think,” Joel grins. “Just to make sure you don’t pull that shit again.”

Your ass is beginning to sting and you try to scramble away, but Joel pulls you upright against him. His large hands move to your hips, fingertips digging into you as he uses your body to rub his bulge against you. 

“I think you’re gonna feel real good around me,” he whispers into your hair, hand sliding over your abdomen and down between your legs. “You’re actin’ like you ain’t enjoyin’ this, but you’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.” 

He begins to circle your clit with the pads of his fingers and it causes your back to arch against him, hands darting out to rest on the edge of the couch. A loud moan finally escapes your lips and Joel lets out a low growl at the sound—he wants to hear more of it, craves more of it. 

“From the way you’re squirmin’,” he continues, “Makes me wonder if you’ve been neglected.” 

You shake your head—lying.  

“Oh? Got a boyfriend back home, hm?” 

You shake your head again.

“Poor little thing,” Joel mumbles, head dipping down to the side of your neck as he presses his soft lips against you. It causes a shiver to run through you—his soft lips and his rough beard. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here now. I’ll take care of ya.”

You’re an absolute mess by the time Joel’s done with you. You’re lying on his mattress, hands bound by rope and attached to the headboard. You’re completely bare for him and he’s brought you to the edge of orgasm too many times to count that you’re practically begging for some release. 

His hands are surprisingly gentle when he settles himself back between your legs and it causes you to flinch. His fingertips brush against your hardened nipples, dark bruises already forming around it from his love bites—he liked to call it. 

“You’re soakin’ my sheets, honey,” he grins. 

“Then let me fucking come!” you retaliate with a huff. Your eyes go wide the minute it leaves your mouth and you’re already trying to scramble away from him, despite being all tied up. 

Joel laughs again. “You’re cute when you’re angry, baby… but let’s not forget who’s in charge here.” 

He finally pulls the ends of his shirt over his head and you lift your own head off the pillow to get a good look at him. There’s no way this fucking man is in his fifties—you shake your head of the thoughts that begin to fill your mind. He has you here held captive and you’re sure that he’s going to kill you once he’s gotten what he needed. 

But you can’t help it. 

Joel’s fucking gorgeous. 

Is this what Stockholm syndrome is? Attracted to your captor? Whatever the fuck it is, you’re squirming impatiently. There’s a dull throb between your legs, an ache, a need for him to give you what you need. 

And he smiles. The same fucking dimple that appeared earlier that day is now in full display because Joel knows he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Gonna be a good girl f’me? No more fightin’ back?” Joel begins, reaching down to tug his boxers down his strong legs. Once the fabric is gone from his body, your eyes widen once more at the sheer size of him. Girthy. Leaking at the tip. You’re not sure if it’d fit inside of you and Joel notices a flicker of uncertainty flash across your features. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’t you worry.”

You whimper quietly in response, feeling him brush his rounded tip against your opening. You try to wiggle your hips down, yearning for more, but he just pulls back and shakes his head. 

“Please,” you plead. You bat your eyes at him, gazing at him under the rim of your eyelashes. It’s a poor attempt at begging, at looking innocent because you look anything but that. 

Joel just lets a small smile line his lips before he pulls away and mounts your upper half. You clear your throat—the size of him this close almost threatening. 

“Don’t be gettin’ shy on me now,” he growls lowly. “Been pleasuring you for a while now, so it’s only fair that you return the favor.” 

“I–I haven’t come yet. Please just let me come and I’ll do anything—”

Joel clicks his tongue and runs the tip of his manhood across your mouth, smirking at the sight of his precome now on your lips. “You ain’t the one in charge here.” He pushes his tip past your lips and lets out a low groan. One hand moves to grip the headboard ahead of him as his other hand keeps a steady grip around the base of his length. “Open wider f’me,” he whispers. 

You have no choice but to obey—parting your lips wider and feeling more of his manhood slide into your mouth. You can feel the corners of your mouth stretch due to his girth. It isn’t long before he pushes further into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat and you gag almost instantly. Tears sting your eyes and he only gives you a few seconds to breathe before he pushes back into you. 

You squeeze your legs together, trying to alleviate some pressure that has been building and building between your legs and the pit of your stomach. You glance up in his direction only to see Joel with his head tilted back, chest and neck exposed, and his eyes completely shut. A quiet groan escapes his lips as he begins to move his hips forward and backward—you swirl your tongue around him, hollow your cheeks and it causes him to moan loudly. 

And fuck, it’s a beautiful sound to come out of him. 

He’s moaning. He’s deep in his own pleasure. 

And it’s all because of you. 

By the time he pulls out of your mouth, Joel’s eyes snap open to look down at you. Lips swollen, tears streaking down the corner of your eyes. You’re so distracted by your desire to come that you don’t realize what could possibly happen once he’s done with you. 

You’re going to die. 

Joel is going to fucking kill you. 

And this cross country road trip you had originally planned was a stupid fucking idea. 

Joel sees a look of fear flash across your features and it only makes him smile, makes his cock jerk at the sight of you. He moves down your body and settles himself between your legs again. 

“Gonna fill you up now,” Joel nods. “And you’re gonna lie there and take it like a good girl.” 

You nod. 

His hand comes up to grip your chin roughly, staring into your eyes. “Say it.” 

“I–I’ll be good. I’ll take it like a good girl and—”

Without warning, Joel pushes fully into you in one stroke. You feel your body jerk upwards at the sudden intrusion and you’re lucky that you’re so wet because while he slides in so easily, you can’t help but feel the painful stretch to give way to his size. Your hands try to wiggle out of the bondage, but the rope just digs further into your skin—it’s like he expertly tied you in a way that the more you struggle, the tighter it gets. 

Joel’s hand moves from your chin to cup your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple as he remains still for a moment. “Feel so good,” he whispers, head dipping lower to brush his nose against yours. He can hear you panting heavily, lips parted slightly. “Like you were made f’me.” 

Then, Joel pulls out to his tip only to slam himself back into you. He repeats this movement multiple times and your moans—the ones that you’ve tried so desperately to hold back—finally escape your lips and mix in with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours. 

The bed rocks against the wall—his thrusts are so rough and you’re sure that your entire body is going to ache for the next few days. 

That is if you’re still alive by then.  

One hand moves to your hip as the other moves to wrap around your neck. He applies a bit of pressure to cut off your oxygen and you gasp, eyes wide as you stare up at him. 

Begging. 

Pleading. 

Not for him to stop… 

…but for more. 

Joel grins at that and continues his thrusts, the sensation of your walls sliding along his length only urging him closer and closer to release. He can feel the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to unravel and he pulls out, not yet wanting to be done with you. 

When Joel does pull out of you, he releases his grip around your throat and hears you take one deep breath. You’re breathing heavily and he looks between your legs—so fucking wet, so swollen and he taps your clit gently with the tip of his manhood only to see you squirm. 

You’re sensitive, he thinks to himself with a grin. 

“Joel,” you whisper. At this rate, you don’t care if you die. Having him bring you on the edge of an orgasm only to stop is worse, you’re sure of it. 

“Gonna keep you here forever,” Joel says with a dark gaze. “You’re mine now. You understand?” 

You clear your throat and nod slowly—anything to get him to make you come. “Y–Yes, yours.” 

“Doesn’t sound too convincing.” 

“Fuck, Joel! Please,” you beg. “I don’t care what you do to me, please just let me come…” 

Joel chuckles—dark, sinister. He leans down and lightly pecks your lips before he climbs off the bed to look at you from top to bottom. “Like I said, you ain’t the one in charge here.” 

Your eyes stare at him and you notice the way his manhood stands fully erect, glistening with your arousal. He follows your gaze and smirks, reaching down to tug on it. “This what you want?” 

You nod. “Please.” 

“So if I untie you, you gonna be a good girl and obey?” Joel contemplates, still stroking the base of his length. His hand doesn’t feel as good as being inside of you and he almost loses his resolve. 

But he doesn’t. 

Joel’s patient. 

“Y–Yes, please,” you plead once more. 

“Love hearin’ you beg, darlin’,” he grins. Joel slowly reaches over and begins to untie the rope around your wrists but he makes sure that his attention is focused on you. He needs to make sure that you’re not going to run again. 

Once the rope is finally undone, you roll your wrists and touch the bruises around it. You flinch and then look up at him—eyes still pleading. 

“One wrong move and I’m tyin’ you up again. You hear me?” Joel growls, seeing you move to sit up. You nod in agreement and he tugs on your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed with such force that you let you a quiet yelp. 

Joel flips you onto your abdomen and grabs your hips, lifting you up so that you’re now on all fours on his mattress. He comes up behind you and slides into you with warning—again. 

A loud moan escapes your lips and you fall forwards—cheek resting against his mattress, eyes fully shut tight, and your hands gripping the sheets so tightly that your knuckles turn white. 

“Feel even tighter this way,” Joel points out with a grunt. 

Your toes curl at his rough assault against you. It’s like he’s possessed, so territorial and so animalistic that his thrusts drive you further into the mattress. You wanted this, but you can’t help the pain that shoots through you at his size. Joel’s by far the biggest you’ve ever had and it wasn’t like you had a healthy sex life before this. 

“Fuck!” You scream, now trying to scramble away from him because it’s too much. He’s edged you for too long that you’re sure you can’t even get there—your body is humming and you can feel the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach. You’re close and Joel knows. 

He laughs and grips your hips, pulling back onto him with such force that you arch your back. Joel grabs your arms and pins them at your lower back as he pulls your body forward and backward against him. He glances down and sees just how wet you are—the hair at his base completely damp from your arousal. 

“You wanted to come… then fuckin’ come,” Joel groans, pulling you up against his chest. He grunts into your ear as he keeps your arms pinned at your lower back. His other hand reaches around and dips lower to begin circling your clit against the pads of his fingertips. 

You moan so loud that it echoes throughout his home. Your head tilts back against his shoulder and he drags his teeth across the side of your neck—both your bodies now covered in a thin sheet of sweat. 

“J–Joel, I–,” a loud sob escapes your lips when you finally reach your orgasm. Your body shakes against his own and his thrusts don’t let up—still hammering into you from behind and using your slickness and tightened walls to bring himself closer to his own release. 

“Fuck,” he groans against you, releasing your arms and pinning you back onto the mattress. His hips sling against your own—Joel is literally fucking you into the mattress and you’re already so fucking sensitive that you try to move away. 

Fuck him. If he wanted to deny you of your orgasm, you can do the same to him. 

But it’s no use. Joel’s so much stronger and his large hands grip your hips so tightly that you feel pain from it. 

“S’cute,” he says in between thrusts. “Thinkin’ you can run away.” Joel grunts lowly, chasing his own orgasm. “Can promise you one thing, baby…” He slams into you once more and releases his warm seed into you—paints your tight and wet walls with his come. He leans forward, pushing further into you as his tip kisses your cervix. “You ain’t ever leavin’ me.” 

He presses soft kisses along your shoulder before he pulls out, watching with a smirk to see his come trickle out of you and down your legs. 

“You’re stranded, darlin’. Ain’t no one comin’ to save you,” Joel grins. “And I ain’t even done with you yet.”

[rafesangelita]

rafe + cnc

warnings: consent no consent (read at your own discretion), dom!rafe and bambi!reader who reenact a kidnapping, roleplay, brief mention of stalking, reader is tied up the whole time, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation (just a lil), rafe and reader break character towards the end

the sun was beaming down on you, your babydoll dress swaying in the light breeze as you walked along the dirt road, twirling the ends of your hair as you did so. turning around at the sound of a vehicle approaching, you watched as the window rolled down, revealing a stranger that wore an unnerving smile.

“are you lost?” his eyes trailed down your legs, making a shiver run down your spine. “uhm, not really i-” he opened the door, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be roaming around all by herself.” your breath hitched when the stranger stepped out of his truck. “don’t look so scared, i just wanna help you.”

you stepped back, letting out a scream when he lunged at you, his hand clamping over your mouth as he pulled you against his chest. “shhh, shhh, it’s okay, i’m only gonna rough you up a little bit.” you whimpered, feeling helpless as ever as he dragged you over to his truck, grabbing a worn out rope before tying your hands behind your back.

“where are you taking me?!” tears were running down your cheeks now, your hair disheveled as he slammed the door shut. “don’t you worry about that.” your heart was pounding in your ears, your vision blurry with tears you weren’t able to wipe. it wasn’t until he pulled off of the road, driving towards a sketchy looking shed that you started to kick the back of his seat.

“hey! don’t make me change my mind about going easy on you.” his words made your stomach plummet, your blood running cold once he parked in the middle of nowhere. “no, no, no, no, no..” you whispered as he got down, flashing you a smirk before opening the door closest to you. “no, please! i’ll do whatever you want!” you cried out, wincing when you felt the rope burn against your skin.

he laughed. “of course you are.” he cursed under his breath when your foot landed square against his chest. “still kickin’ huh? should i tie your ankles too?” the man yanked you up by your hair, almost making you lose your footing. “please, i’m begging..” he ignored your pleas, pushing you inside the wooden shed before turning on a single bulb light that hung from the ceiling.

“you already pissed me off.” he circled around you like you were prey, grabbing another rope from a nearby table. “lay down.” you stayed still, your chest rising and falling with each breath. the stranger’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he laughed bitterly. “okay..” he forcefully got you on the ground, a whimper sounding from your mouth, “since you want to make this hard for me, you leave me with no choice.” you gasped when he bent you over, forcing your ankles to cross one over the other.

he took his shirt off, balling it up and placing it under your head. “i could be an asshole and shove your face in the dirt, but i’ll be nice.” your body jolted when his hand slammed down on your ass, the force of it making your flesh sting. “don’t do this, please, i don’t want it..” you screwed your eyes shut at the sound of his belt unbuckling. he grabbed your dress from the back, pulling it hard, making it rip all the way down to the hem.

you had given up at this point, staring blankly at the ground as he roughly moved your underwear to the side. “fuck.” he hissed, running a finger between your folds. “and to think.. this pretty pussy was right in front of me all along. i knew you were perfect when i started following you home.” you shivered at the revelation, swallowing thickly as you felt him line himself up with your entrance.

he didn’t waste another second, thrusting into you with a groan. “oh, my god.” he drawled out, fingers digging into your hips. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. “you’re so fucking wet, ‘just slid right in.” you shuddered, the head of his cock hitting that sensitive spot that made you mewl delightfully.

“you like this, don’t you? you’re taking it so fucking good.” he grabbed the base of your neck, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. “stop.. stop..” you muttered, still trying to resist him even though your body was giving in to every one of his ministrations. his hand snaked down your body, your eyes rolling back once he started working your clit.

“you want me to stop?” his lips were next to your ear, the tone of his voice taunting. you stayed quiet, eliciting a laugh from him. “that’s what i thought.” he shook his head, pushing you down into the ground again. his thrusts were nothing short of sporadic, your mouth hanging open as he fucked into you mercilessly. “oh, yeah, you’re going to cum soon aren’t you, you fucking slut,” he slapped your ass again.

it wasn’t long before you found yourself moving your hips against his, chasing his cock so you could cum. “oh, fuck!” you squeaked, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. with both of your hands still restrained, you laid helpless as the man brought you to your orgasm, a sob erupting from your throat. “rafe!” you couldn’t hold in your cries, your boyfriend rubbing your skin soothingly as your thighs shook. “keep going for me, baby, you’re doing so fucking good.” he nearly whimpered.

you were sure he was going to leave marks with how hard he was gripping your waist, rafe doubling over on top of you. “i’m gonna cum, holy fuck i’m gonna fill you up, baby.” you squeezed around him, the death grip on his cock making him fall over the edge. your knees ached from being on them for so long, a thin sheen of sweat making your body glow with the small streaks of sunlight peeking through the wood.

rafe stared gloriously at where you two were connected, his jaw slack as he watched his cum spill out of your soaked cunt. “shit,” he felt like he was going to pass out, your pussy still sucking him in like a vice. you were only able to make little noises, your eyes half closed as you went through the aftershocks of your orgasm. rafe continued to thrust into you with long, slow, strokes, the action helping both of you come down from your highs.

it wasn’t until you felt him untying the ropes around your wrists, that you sighed in relief, your boyfriend immediately leaning down to check on you. “baby, you alright?” he moved your hair out of your face, meeting your shiny gaze. you fell flat on you tummy, flashing him an exhausted smile. “you did amazing.” he pecked your lips, leaving the shed before coming back with a different change of clothes.

“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[blossom-shy]

WANDERER/SCARAMOUCHE X READER

When he is married to the reader and they were arguing In the car and wanderer kicks her out

# Stranded

The rain drummed against the windshield as harsh words filled the confined space of the car. Your husband's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched in that familiar way that meant he was barely holding back his temper.

"You never listen," Scaramouche's voice was low and dangerous, the kind of quiet that preceded a storm. "I told you not to interfere with my work, but you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"Interfere?" You turned in the passenger seat to face him fully, your own anger flaring. "I was trying to help! That deal was going to fall through and you were too proud to see it!"

"Help?" He laughed bitterly, finally turning those indigo eyes toward you. Even in the dim light of the car, they seemed to glow with fury. "You embarrassed me in front of my colleagues. Made me look weak."

"Made you look human, you mean." The words escaped before you could stop them, and you saw his expression darken further.

The car suddenly swerved to the side of the empty highway, gravel crunching under the tires as he brought it to an abrupt stop. The engine idled roughly in the sudden silence, broken only by the steady patter of rain.

"Get out."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

"You heard me." His voice was eerily calm now, which somehow made it worse than his anger. "Get out of my car."

"Scaramouche, we're in the middle of nowhere. It's pouring rain—"

"I don't care." He reached across you, his movement sharp and deliberate as he grabbed the door handle. "If you think I'm so inhuman, then you can find your own way home."

The door swung open, letting in a gust of cold, wet air. Rain immediately began soaking the passenger seat.

"You can't be serious." Your voice cracked slightly. "We're married. You can't just—"

"Can't I?" His smile was cruel, nothing like the rare, genuine ones you'd fallen in love with years ago. "Watch me."

For a moment, you stared at each other in the dim light. You searched his face for any sign of the man you'd married, the one who held you during thunderstorms and brought you tea when you were sick. But all you saw was cold indifference.

Pride warring with disbelief, you grabbed your purse and stepped out into the rain. The cold hit you immediately, soaking through your clothes within seconds.

You turned back, certain he would change his mind, that this was just another one of his dramatic displays of temper. But the car door slammed shut with finality.

Through the rain-streaked window, you could see his silhouette. He didn't look at you as he shifted the car into drive.

"Scaramouche!" You banged on the window, but he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead.

The car pulled away, its taillights growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared entirely around a bend, leaving you alone on the empty highway with nothing but the sound of rain and your own ragged breathing.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering as the reality of the situation set in. Miles from home, soaked to the bone, with a phone that had no signal.

As you started walking along the dark road, you wondered if this was finally the breaking point—if some lines, once crossed, could never be uncrossed.

Behind you, thunder rumbled across the sky, as if the heavens themselves were commenting on the wreckage of your marriage.

---

Three hours later, you finally pushed through the front door of your shared home, water still dripping from your soaked clothes onto the hardwood floor. Your shoes squelched with each step, and your teeth chattered uncontrollably from the cold that had seeped deep into your bones.

A kind truck driver had eventually stopped, taking pity on your bedraggled state and giving you a ride to the nearest town. From there, you'd managed to catch a late bus, enduring the stares and whispered comments about your appearance.

The house was dark except for a single lamp in the living room. Scaramouche sat in his usual armchair, still in the same clothes from earlier, though his hair was disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it. An untouched cup of tea sat cold on the side table.

He looked up when you entered, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were your chattering teeth and the steady drip of water from your clothes.

"You came back," he said finally, his voice quieter than before, stripped of its earlier venom.

"Where else would I go?" Your voice was hoarse from the cold and exhaustion. "This is my home too. Or was, anyway."

His eyes flickered—something that might have been regret, or perhaps just surprise that you'd made it back at all. He stood slowly, and you noticed the way his hands trembled slightly at his sides.

"You're soaked," he observed, as if just now realizing the full extent of what he'd done.

"Amazing observation." The words came out sharper than you intended, but you were too tired and too hurt to soften them.

He flinched as if you'd struck him. "I'll... get you some dry clothes."

As he moved toward the stairs, you called after him, your voice breaking slightly. "Is that it? You leave me stranded in a storm for hours, and all you can say is that I'm wet?"

He stopped, his back still turned to you. His shoulders sagged, and when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I know."

But you were already walking past him, your waterlogged shoes leaving a trail on the stairs as you headed to the bedroom. You didn't want to hear his excuses, didn't want to see whatever expression he was wearing now. The hurt was too fresh, too raw.

"Wait—" he started, turning around.

You didn't acknowledge him. Instead, you went straight to the bedroom and locked the door behind you with a decisive click. Through the wood, you could hear his footsteps pause outside, then the soft sound of his hand pressing against the door.

"Please," his voice was muffled. "Let me—"

Silence. You peeled off your soaked clothes with numb fingers, each piece hitting the floor with a wet slap. Your reflection in the mirror showed exactly what you felt like—a drowned, abandoned mess.

You could hear him lingering outside the door for several more minutes before his footsteps finally retreated down the hallway.

The next morning, you emerged from the bedroom to find a steaming cup of your favorite tea waiting on the kitchen counter, along with a plate of toast cut exactly the way you liked it. Scaramouche was nowhere to be seen, though you could hear the shower running upstairs.

You walked right past the peace offering without touching it.

When he came downstairs, hair still damp and dressed for work, you were sitting at the kitchen table with your own hastily made coffee, pointedly ignoring the breakfast he'd prepared.

"Good morning," he said carefully, hovering near the counter.

You turned a page in the newspaper you weren't really reading. The silence stretched between you like a chasm.

"I have meetings today, but I could cancel—"

Still nothing. You took a deliberate sip of your coffee, keeping your eyes fixed on the words that might as well have been in a foreign language for all the attention you were paying them.

His frustrated sigh was audible across the kitchen. "You can't ignore me forever."

You finally looked up, meeting his gaze with cool indifference. "Watch me."

---

Two months had passed since that night, and the house had become a graveyard of unspoken words.

You and Scaramouche moved around each other like ghosts, sharing the same space but existing in completely separate worlds. He'd stopped trying to make conversation after the third week of being met with silence. The breakfast offerings had ceased after a month of watching you throw them away untouched.

Your shared bed had become a carefully negotiated territory—you on your side, him on his, an invisible wall of hurt and pride running down the middle. Some nights you could feel him lying awake, his breathing too controlled to be natural sleep, but you never acknowledged it.

The house itself seemed to reflect the state of your marriage. Rooms felt colder, colors more muted. Even the plants you'd once tended together were beginning to wither from neglect, neither of you willing to be the first to care for something that required cooperation.

Scaramouche had grown quieter, more withdrawn. The sharp edges of his personality had dulled into something listless. He worked longer hours, came home later, sometimes falling asleep in his office chair rather than facing the arctic silence of the bedroom.

His colleagues had started asking questions, you suspected. The few times the phone rang and you happened to overhear, his voice carried a strained politeness that hadn't been there before.

You'd thrown yourself into your own work with renewed intensity, anything to avoid the suffocating atmosphere at home. Friends invited you out more frequently now, their concerned glances speaking volumes about what they could see that you refused to acknowledge.

On this particular evening, you sat at opposite ends of the dining table—a table that had once hosted laughter and shared meals, now serving as another barrier between you. He picked at his food mechanically while you scrolled through your phone, both of you eating in the kind of silence that screamed louder than any argument ever could.

The sound of his fork hitting his plate made you glance up involuntarily. He was staring at his barely touched dinner, his hands clasped so tightly in his lap that his knuckles had gone white.

"I can't do this anymore," he whispered to his plate, so quietly you almost didn't hear him.

You looked back down at your phone, but the words on the screen blurred together. Your heart hammered against your ribs, but you kept your expression carefully neutral.

Two months of silence, and it felt like you were both drowning.

The admission hung in the air like a challenge. You could feel his eyes on you now, waiting, hoping for any kind of response. Your finger hovered over your phone screen, the words you'd been reading forgotten entirely.

"Please." His voice cracked on the single word. "Just... say something. Anything."

You set your phone down with deliberate slowness, finally meeting his gaze. He looked terrible—dark circles under his eyes, cheekbones more pronounced than before, as if the weight of your silence had been physically consuming him.

"What do you want me to say?" Your voice came out hoarse from disuse in conversations with him. The sound of it seemed to startle you both.

Relief flooded his features so completely that for a moment he couldn't speak. He leaned forward slightly, as if afraid you might disappear again into silence.

"I don't know," he admitted, his hands still trembling in his lap. "I just... I need to hear your voice. I need to know you're still here, that we're still—" He stopped, swallowing hard. "That there's still an 'us' to save."

You studied his face, seeing past the careful mask he usually wore to the raw desperation underneath. Two months of your silence had stripped him down to something vulnerable and broken.

"You left me on the side of a highway in a storm," you said quietly. Each word was measured, deliberate. "You looked me in the eye and drove away."

He flinched as if you'd slapped him. "I know."

"Do you?" Your voice grew stronger, the dam of suppressed emotion finally beginning to crack. "Do you really? Because I stood there for twenty minutes thinking you'd come back. Twenty minutes in the rain, believing that my husband wouldn't actually abandon me like that."

Tears were sliding down his cheeks now, his composure completely shattered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I—"

"I called your name," you continued, your own voice breaking. "I banged on the window and called your name, and you wouldn't even look at me."

"I know," he whispered. "I know, and I hate myself for it. I've hated myself every single day since then."

You opened your mouth, ready to unleash all the hurt you'd been carrying—ready to tell him that he'd become exactly like the woman who had abandoned him, that he was repeating the same cruel patterns his mother had carved into his soul. The words were right there, sharp and cutting, designed to hit him where it would hurt most.

But as you looked at his broken form across the table, something in your chest twisted painfully. The memory of late nights when he'd wake up gasping from nightmares about being left behind, about not being good enough, about everyone always leaving him in the end. The way he'd curl into you those nights, vulnerable and small, whispering fears he'd never voice in daylight.

You saw his mother's cruelty reflected in what he'd done to you, yes—but you also saw the scared, abandoned child he'd once been, acting out of the same fear that had been carved into him long before you'd ever met.

The cruel words died on your lips.

Instead, something else broke inside you—not the sharp crack of anger, but the soft collapse of a heart that remembered loving him despite everything. The pain in your chest shifted, transforming from the ache of betrayal into something deeper, more complex.

"I forgive you," you whispered, the words surprising even yourself.

His head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. "What?"

"I forgive you." The words came easier the second time, though tears were now streaming down your face. "I hate what you did. I hate that you hurt me like that. But I forgive you."

He stared at you as if you'd spoken in a foreign language, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

"I can't keep carrying this anger," you continued, your voice shaking. "It's killing both of us. And I... I remember who you are underneath all this pain. I remember why I fell in love with you."

"I don't deserve—"

"No," you said firmly. "You don't. But that's what forgiveness is, isn't it? It's not about what you deserve."

He broke then, completely and utterly. His shoulders shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in his hands. Two months of guilt and self-hatred poured out of him all at once.

Without thinking, you stood from your chair. Your body moved on instinct, drawn by the sight of him falling apart. You walked around the table and gently placed your hand on his shoulder.

"Come here," you whispered.

He looked up at you through his tears, confusion and hope warring in his expression. Slowly, carefully, you pulled him to his feet and wrapped your arms around him. He went rigid for a moment, as if he couldn't believe this was real, before melting into your embrace.

His arms came around you desperately, clinging to you like you might disappear again. His tears soaked through your shirt as he pressed his face against your shoulder, and you could feel how much weight he'd lost in these past two months.

"I'm sorry," he kept whispering against your neck. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"I know," you murmured, your own tears falling into his hair. "I know you are."

You stayed like that in the dining room for a long time, holding each other as months of pain slowly began to drain away. Eventually, you pulled back just enough to see his face.

"Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let's go upstairs."

He followed you wordlessly to the bedroom—the same room where you'd locked him out that first night, where you'd slept on opposite sides of the bed like strangers. Now, you sat on the edge of the mattress and gently pulled him down beside you.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him again. He immediately curled into you, his head finding its familiar place on your chest. His tears hadn't stopped, and you could feel each shuddering breath against your body.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, his voice muffled. "I thought you'd never forgive me. I thought I'd destroyed everything."

You stroked his hair gently, the same way you used to during his nightmares. "You almost did," you admitted quietly. "But we're still here. We're still trying."

His arms tightened around you as fresh tears came. In the quiet safety of your bedroom, with your forgiveness wrapped around him like a blanket, he finally let himself grieve for what he'd almost thrown away.

---

You woke to the unfamiliar sensation of warmth beside you. For a moment, you were disoriented—it had been so long since you'd shared the bed properly that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to wake up next to someone.

Scaramouche was still asleep, his face pressed against your shoulder, one arm draped protectively across your waist. His cheeks were stained with dried tears, and even in sleep, his grip on you was tight, as if he was afraid you might disappear.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting everything in a soft, golden glow. For the first time in months, the bedroom didn't feel like a battlefield. It felt like home again.

You shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open immediately. For a split second, confusion crossed his features—then memory returned, and with it, a mixture of relief and uncertainty.

"Good morning," you said softly, your voice still rough with sleep.

"You're still here," he whispered, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"I'm still here."

He studied your face carefully, searching for any sign that you might have changed your mind overnight, that forgiveness given in the heat of emotion might have evaporated with the morning light.

"How are you feeling?" he asked hesitantly.

You considered the question honestly. "Tired," you admitted. "Sad. But... lighter, somehow. Like I can finally breathe again."

He nodded, understanding exactly what you meant. The house had felt suffocating for both of you these past months.

"I called in sick to work yesterday," he said quietly. "After you... after we talked. I couldn't imagine sitting in meetings, pretending everything was normal."

"Good," you said, surprising him. "We have a lot to figure out."

His expression grew serious. "We do. I know that forgiving me doesn't mean everything just goes back to how it was. I know I have to earn your trust back."

"One day at a time," you agreed, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. The simple gesture made his breath catch.

"I love you," he said suddenly, desperately. "I know I don't deserve to say that after what I did, but I love you so much it terrifies me."

"I love you too," you replied, and watched as relief flooded his features. "That's why this hurt so much. That's why we're going to fix this."

---

**Six Months Later**

The sound of rain against the windows no longer made you tense. If anything, it had become comforting—a reminder of how far you'd both come.

You were curled up on the couch together, a book in your lap while Scaramouche worked on his laptop beside you. It was a quiet evening, the kind that had once felt suffocating but now felt peaceful. The house was warm again, filled with the small sounds of a life shared: the turning of pages, the soft clicking of keys, the occasional comment about something interesting.

"I have to drive to the next city tomorrow for that conference," he mentioned casually, then paused. His fingers stilled on the keyboard. "Would you... would you like to come with me? We could make a weekend of it."

You looked up from your book, noting the careful way he'd phrased the question. Even now, six months later, he was still cautious about anything involving cars and arguments. Some wounds took time to fully heal.

"I'd like that," you said with a smile. "It's been a while since we've traveled together."

The relief in his expression was subtle but unmistakable. These small victories still mattered to both of you.

Outside, thunder rumbled gently across the sky, but inside, you were both exactly where you belonged. The work of rebuilding trust was ongoing, probably always would be, but you'd learned that love wasn't about perfection—it was about choosing each other, again and again, even after

[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟠 : 𝑀𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐  ✧

【 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤 】

╰› 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑛 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to reunite with Charlie after all these years

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, slight age gap, light angst, charlie's pov, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering

╰›  ✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

Rain patters against the roof of Swan Auto Repair, and the smell of motor oil, grease, and the remnants of old coffee fills the air. Charlie sits slumped at his desk in the back office of his shop, his head propped against his arm wrinkling the papers underneath. His faded flannel shirt is worn and rolled up to his elbows, exposing his oil-smudged hands and forearms. A distant ringing pulls him further out of his slumber and he blinks blearily as he attempts to regain his senses. 

He sits up with a groan, his back aching from his uncomfortable position. His steps toward the reception area are uncoordinated and he stumbles a little as he reaches for the phone on the wall. 

He picks up the phone and presses it against his ear. 

“Swan Auto” he answers, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Charlie?” your voice rings out on the other line. 

He straightens at the sound of your voice, and he’s surprised his heart didn’t lurch out of his chest. He can’t remember the last time he heard your voice, but it sounds just like it did the day you left.  

He forces himself out of his thoughts. “Been a while. Everything okay?” 

Your voice quivers as you speak. “I’d be better if my car didn’t break down in the middle of the night. Would you be willing to give an old friend a tow?” 

He likes to think you were more than old friends. The nights you used to spend tangled in his sheets surely meant something to him.

“Where are you?” 

He holds the phone with his shoulder as he searches for his jacket. You rattle off your location, which is mostly just a combination of landmarks. 

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon,” he says before hanging up. He grabs his jacket from a nearby coat rack and heads toward his tow truck. He wonders if you’ve changed at all. Forks had been a constant in his life, even after it felt like his world had been turned upside down by your departure. He figured the same could be applied to him. He hadn't changed except for a few more gray hairs and the sense not to get attached.

He sighs as he climbs into his ancient tow truck. It sputters to life, and Charlie begins his drive towards your location.  

He pulls in front of your car on the side of the road and hardly has enough time to throw it in park before he jumps out to meet you. You’re standing near your car, soaked to the bone. 

“Charlie!” you call as you head toward his truck. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and ushers you toward the passenger side of his truck. He practically shoves you in the seat before slamming the door behind you. 

He clambers into his truck, grateful to be out of the rain. He turns to look at you, taking in your appearance. The rain had soaked through your clothes, forcing them to cling tightly to your form. He can’t help his gaze from wandering, watching as water trickles down your neck and dips between the valley of your breasts.

“You’re drenched,” he says, forcing himself to look anywhere else but your tits. Your teeth begin to chatter and he reaches over to turn the heat up. 

“Why didn’t you just wait in the car?” he questions, his voice rough but not unkind. 

You shrug, “Felt weird just sitting there.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, really looks at you, not just your soaking wet clothes. You hadn’t changed a bit. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d dreamed of just being in your presence once more, and now that he was really with you he didn’t know what to do. 

You turn to face him, “Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 

“Probably getting hypothermia,” he sighs. “Stay here while I hook your car up. We’ll take it back to the shop, and I can take a look at it there.” 

He doesn’t wait for your reply before jumping out of his truck. He works quickly to hook up your car, the rain only slightly inhibiting his progress. By the time he returns to you, he’s drenched and shivering. He’s thankful you’ve cranked the heat, and he takes a moment to defrost. 

“It’s good to see you, even if the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal,” you said, cutting through the awkward silence that fell upon you.  

He cleared his throat and started his truck. He was silent as he pulled out onto the road. Pine trees passed by in a flash as he picked up speed. The sooner he could get you back to his shop, the sooner he could get away from you. That’s what you wanted, right? 

“I told you to get rid of that piece of crap when you had the chance,” he mentioned, nodding his head toward his rearview mirror. 

You grinned, “It got me this far, hasn’t it?” 

“Speaking of, why now? Couldn’t find what you were looking for halfway across the country?” he questioned and it came out harsher than he intended. 

His words lingered between you, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The silence that filled the cab of his truck was suffocating, and he counted down the seconds until he pulled into his shop. 

The rain had lightened up only slightly as he dropped your car off at his shop. You followed him into the back office as the tension simmered between you. He leans on the edge of his desk, taking in your appearance. You haven’t aged a day; you just look a bit more tired, maybe a little more sad. 

“M’sorry about earlier,” he begins. 

You wave him off, “I deserved it, don’t worry about it.”

“Still,” he shrugs, meeting your gaze, “it wasn’t fair. You had every right to leave this town and chase your dreams.”

You take a step towards him, “I shouldn’t have left the way I did. That wasn’t fair.” 

He resists the urge to pull you in and kiss all the regrets away. You shift on your feet before taking another step closer, situating yourself between his thighs. It almost seems like you’ve read his mind. 

You cup his face and he leans into your touch. A soft noise escapes him as you drag your thumb across his cheek. 

“I missed you,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. 

Your eyes search his for a moment, and the next thing he knows you’re leaning in. Your lips collide, and it's everything he’s dreamt about for the past few years. You kiss him, and it’s like nothing’s changed. It’s like you never left. 

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him impossibly closer. He groans against your mouth and slides his tongue against your bottom lip. His hands wander downward and squeeze your ass, earning a small yelp in response. He uses the opportunity and runs his tongue across the backs of your teeth. 

You pull away, panting, your breath tickling his cheeks. Your eyes meet, and the slight nod of your head is all it takes for the rest of his resolve to crumble underneath your fingertips. 

He grabs you and spins the two of you so you’re pressed against his desk. “Gotta get you outta these wet clothes, baby,” he mentions as his hands wander under the hem of your shirt. 

You hum, pulling him in by his flannel. Your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, and his hands skim across your body, almost as if memorizing the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Although, he doubts he could ever forget the feeling. 

One hand pops the closure of your jeans while the other wraps lightly around your neck, squeezing slightly as you kiss him. 

“You miss me as much as I miss you?” he questions as he dips his hand down your pants. His fingertips brush against your clothed core, and you gasp against him. He hums, “Certainly feels like you missed me.” 

He presses open-mouthed kisses against the side of your neck as he teases you through your underwear. You tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, and your quiet moans quickly turned into desperate pleas. 

The urge to have you desperate and crying for his cock nearly overwhelms him. A small part of him wants you to feel like he felt all those years– release just close enough that you can taste it but too far to fully grasp it. 

A larger, louder part of him wants to bury his cock in you and have you singing his name within the next 30 seconds. That part of him won. 

He pushes you back against the hard expanse of his desk and makes quick work of your jeans and underwear. He tugs them down and off your body, leaving you bare before him. He could’ve come just from the sight of you. You looked up at him as you spread your thighs, baring your glistening cunt for him. Just for him. 

He slides a finger through your folds, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, muffling a whine. 

He halts his movements. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna hear those pretty little noises you make.” 

You give him an obedient nod, and he continues. He swipes a finger through your folds, gathering your slick as he circles your clit. You arch against his touch, moaning a little. 

His free hand moves upward to push up your t-shirt over your breasts. His fingers run over the lacy front of your bra, and when that isn’t enough for him, he pulls down the front of your bra. He circles your nipples, mirroring his ministrations on your clit, and the buds harden under his touch. 

He sinks his finger into your core, pumping it a few times and eliciting a breathy moan from you. He wants to take his time with you, despite the raging desire to ruin you. He wants you to keep crawling back to him because no one can make you feel the way that he does. 

You give him an all too familiar pleading look, and he decides to take mercy on you just this once. He pops the button on his jeans and eagerly pushes down his boxers just enough to let his cock spring free. He pulls out of you and coats his cock with your arousal. He pumps his hand a few times before sliding his cock through your folds. You whine each time his head hits your clit, and it's music to his ears. 

He plunges into you inch by tantalizing inch. Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him in closer. You felt heavenly against him, squeezing him just right. The plush skin of your thigh sinks under his fingertips as he pushes your thighs near your chest, practically bending you in half. He begins to rock his hips, nearly getting lost in the sensation of you already. 

Your walls flutter and clench around him. You arch your back as he readjusts his angle, hitting the sensitive spot inside you. He reaches down to where the two of you meet and draws lazy figure-eights against your clit, earning a whine in response. 

The familiar heat builds within his abdomen and he wills himself to last a little longer. He needs to feel you cum around his cock, and the thought consumes him as he thrusts harder into you. 

He grabs your face with his free hand and leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your lips. It’s a mixture of tongue and teeth, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The obscene sounds of your sopping heat and skin slapping against skin fill his back office. It’s nearly enough to make his cheeks flush. 

Your thighs clamp against his sides as you throw your head back and cum with a strangled cry. Your pussy squeezes him like a vice as your release crashes over you, and his thrusts falter. 

He grips your hips and juts into you for a final time as he cums hard, filling you just how you liked. A comfortable silence lingers between you as you both catch your breath. 

He slowly pulls out of you and watches as his release leaks over your folds. He attempts to commit the image to memory, just in case this is the last time you’ll be together like this. 

You grab at his flannel and tug him down for a kiss. It’s much softer than your previous ones. He prays it’s not a kiss goodbye. 

“You in town for long?” he questions as he pulls away. 

You shrug, “For the foreseeable future.”

“You got a place to stay tonight?” 

You shake your head and look up at him with those eyes he could never resist. 

“You can stay at my place, and I’ll take a look at your car in the morning. Deal?” 

You stand and press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Deal.”

[amaranthineghost]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ in the tumbleweeds ( lando norris. )

cowboy!lando norris x city girl!reader

your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. just when you begin to lose hope, a big truck pulls up in front of you and out hops two country boys to help you get your car up and running again

authors note: in honor of me going to the austin grand prix in october, here's cowboy lando (ft. cowboy oscar)

“NO, NO, NO,” YOU HAD WHINED as your car had slowed to stop. the tiny dial on the speedometer had slowed bounced its way down, and down, and down until it had hit zero. now here you were, in your mysteriously broken down car on the side of the road! not to mention, you were in the countryside, the middle of nowhere.

all you could do was groan as you twisted the keys out of ignition, after you had smacked the horn with your palm in frustration. you could already feel the heat seeping through the window as the air conditioning had given out—as well as the entire car. 

a frown etched itself on your face, sighing as you used the parking brake—just in case as you would’ve just ended it if your car had begun rolling off after getting out to check. a huffed groan fell from your lips as you struggled with the stubborn brake, which hadn’t been used since you’d gotten the car. 

swiping a hand across your forehead at the strain, you opened the driver’s side door to step out—not before checking the road to see that the way was clear of upcoming cars. 

as soon as the door had cracked open, you could feel the blistering country heat beating down on your body. a soft whimper fell from your lips as the car door slammed shut behind you, raising an arm to cover the sun rays that hindered your sight.

you felt helpless as you turned to look at your car—you had no clue what you were doing! you were not a mechanic, and you were sure as hell not built for this type of heat. you pulled out the phone you had slipped into your back pocket, hand on your forehead as you fingered through your hair. 

your jaw clenched at the no service signal, rendering the device completely useless. just your luck to be stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service. just you and your broken down car, a few items of belonging in the trunk for your road trip.

hopelessness and panic started to sink in as you bit your cheek to hold back the tears, a hand still on your head as the other went to your hip. you circled the car in ponder—you had no clue where you were. you had no clue where the nearest repair shop was—if there even was one in this barren land. you huffed as you looked at the desert surrounding you—an impeccable view you do admit—with tall mountains in the distance and sparse cacti—and to your surprise, a lone tumbleweed that danced its way across the asphalt road.

your eyes followed the dead bush as it blew, somewhat bewildered at the sight since you’d never seen such in person—only in western movies you’d watch in the comfort of your apartment in the city.

your gaze from the bundle of weeds was torn away when you heard an approaching car from further down the road—actually, you had heard the obscenely loud and blaring country music from the vehicle before the wheels of the car against the road. your brows furrowed on your face as you glanced with squinted eyes at the approaching truck. an uneasy feeling bubbled in your tummy and you felt your hair standing on end at the sight of the big, intimidating truck that was getting closer and closer.

you swallowed thickly as you watched the truck pull off the road right after where you stood in front of your—much smaller and noticeably cleaner—car that looked massively out of place in the dusty surroundings. the music that disrupted the silence was cut-off as the keys were ripped out of the ignition, now met with tranquility as the air around settled.

it wasn’t long after that two guys had opened their respective doors, stepping out of the tall, dirtied, scraped truck. their boots scuffed against the tiny pebbles that littered the asphalt as they slammed the doors shut once again. 

you eyed the pair—but it was the driver who initially caught your eye. with dirtied cowboy boots, tight jeans that hugged his thighs and were speckled with dirt, a button-down shirt with a few too many undone—enough to show off his tanned and toned chest—a dusting of facial hair on his face, and curls peeking out from the cowboy hat that sat a little too low on his head, he walked his way over. alongside him, you assumed was his friend, who wore basically the same thing, except lacking the attempt to be a piece of eye candy.

you were a little stunned as they approached—i mean what if these incredibly attractive and muscled cowboys tried to kill you? it's not like you’d mind, they were hot enough to get away with it, but you just had to trust they wouldn’t—that they had the best intentions at heart.

you watched as the driver had taken the toothpick from between his teeth in between his index and middle fingers, his voice coming out gruffly with a heavy accent, “howdy, li’l lady,” he tapped his hat with a finger in greeting, seemingly too lazy to tip it off after a long days work, “wha’s wrong wit’ y’car?”

you watched his eyes dance between your face—and appearance—and back to your car, which appeared to be fine, but they had seen you standing on the side of the road.

you hummed, pursing your lips as you scratched the back of your head nervously while glancing back at your ride, “uh…” you stuttered slightly, letting out a breathless, nervous chuckle as you grimaced at your inability to get your words out, “it just stopped working.”

“well, tha’s no good,” he mumbled, a smirk on his face as he listened to your smooth voice, another nod to the fact you were not from around these parts, “mind if me and my buddy, oscar, here take a look, ma’am?” 

he threw a thumb in his friend’s direction, who was much paler in comparison, an eye squinted because of the sun as he stood awkwardly with his arms crossed against his chest.

you breathed a sigh of relief, saving you the pain of having to ask for his help—making him go out of his way if he didn’t offer to begin with. you nod, “please, if it's not too much of a hassle for you-”

he waved his hand dismissively, “nonsense, ‘s no problem to help out a pretty girl such as yerself,” he ignored the eye roll from his buddy beside him, nodding his head in gesture to the front of your car, “pop the hood f’me, would ya?”

you nodded quickly with a hum in response to tell him you heard him as you quickly did just that. you opened the car door, another noise surpassing your lips at the heat that had already accumulated in the car. the fact it was humid was just the cherry on top to make you even more miserable. nonetheless, you shook your head and dismissed the heat. Instead, you had done what the country boy had asked—after oscar had leaned against your open passenger side window to tell you how because you had never needed to before. 

a breathless thanks falling from your lips earned a small smile from him, tilting his head in acknowledgement as you once again stepped out from the car. you walked to the front of the car, hands on your hips and eyes squinted as you felt the sweat drip down your face.

you turned your body away from the sun, watching intently as lando had rolled up the sleeves of his button-up, revealing sweat-dirtied skin and veins from hard, strained work. you eyed his hands—already messy from the day's work they had done—and he had noticed, but he decided to not comment on it so soon.

part of you felt bad—they had probably just got done doing laborious tasks in the blistering, country heat and now you were making—they offered—them help you get your car up and running again.

you heard a hum fall from his lips as he settled his sleeves at his elbows, “le’s take a look ‘ere,” he mumbled to himself, taking the gloves that hung out of his back pocket and slipping them on to protect himself from the heated engine. a tinge of disappointment ran through your body at the fact he was covering up his hands, but there was plenty more of him to stare at—what?

you mentally shook your head—you just met the guy! he could probably—he did—see that you were checking him out head to toe. the way his biceps clearly filled out that button-up, the outline of his chest against the loose fitting torso of the fabric, the way the blue denim hugged his thighs just perfectly and fell loose below his knees, the bunched fabric at his elbows, the toothpick bitten between his teeth that slightly indented his bottom lip. you had to force yourself to peel your eyes away from the poor guy before you got lost in the way the sweat dripped down his neck.

his forearms leaned against the front of your car as he hunched over the engine, his gloved hands working through all the possible problems. every now and then, he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead to rid his face of the sweat.

you watched as his friend hovered beside him, offering enlightening suggestions to what could be wrong-

“aha!” his small celebration cut through the silence as your gaze once again settled on him, watching as he stood up, stretching an arm across his chest and his neck to the side briefly, “i see wha’s the problem.”

you looked to him with widened eyes, finding his gaze already on you as you swallowed nervously, “can it be fixed?” you asked, your voice sounding smaller than you would’ve liked—i mean the possibility of you getting out of here relied on the men in front of you.

“no, yeah, ‘ll be able to fix ‘er up in no time, but…” he shook his head, shutting the hood back as he leaned forward on his hands as they rested on the car, “ ‘ll hafta come back t’morrow, y’know.”

you nodded in sullen understanding—even though, no, you didn’t know—you sighed at the thought of sleeping in your hot, humid, broken car on the side of the road for the night, in the middle of nowhere.

oscar piped up, uncrossing his arms to lift his hands as he spoke, “actually, i might have a few tools-”

lando patted his hand against oscar’s chest, chuckling as he shook his head, “don't listen to ‘im ‘ere, he don’t know what he’s sayin’! must be the heat gettin’ to that empty head of ‘is! y’know wha tha’s like, yeah?”

you hum in confused agreement, your lips pulling into a straight line as you nod slowly, “uh, yeah… sure.”

he chuckles breathlessly, raising a hand towards you that says ‘see, you get it.’ “musta forgot we left them tools back at ‘r house!” he shakes his head as his empty chuckles die down, ignoring the glaring side eye from his friend, “now won't you give us a minute ‘ere, li’l lady.” he flashes a smile before grabbing a fist full of oscar’s shirt, hauling him off to the side of the road as they stand off in the dry, dusty dirt.

you watched as they seemed to get into very passionate conversation—and listen in. it's not like they were being quiet in the first place, you couldn't help but hear the words that left their mouths in hushed whispers—though most of it was in a thicker accent than when she spoke to them directly.

“what are you sayin’?!”

“what am i sayin’? what are you sayin’?” he shakes his head with a scoff, throwing a hand back in gesture towards the car, “y’know we can fix the damn car with the tools back in ‘r truck!”

“c’mon, osc, jus’ humor me this once!”

“yer bein’ an idiot, off yer rocker or sumthin’” he shakes his head with his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother as his boot taps against the ground, “yer hopeless.”

lando ignored the last comments from oscar as he walked back towards where you stood as he peeled the gloves from his hands, shoving them into his back pocket once again. he stood before you with his thumbs through his belt loops, looking down at you as he spoke.

he sniffled quietly, his nose scrunching, “we’ll give ya a ride to the next town over, missy,” he nodded his head once, his index finger swiping away the sweat over his top lip.

but before you can respond—tell them that it’s okay, you can sleep in the car—he makes a disapproving noise as he looks towards the sun. your gaze follows his, furrowing your brows as you don't seem to notice what he does.

he shakes his head, inhaling through his teeth, “actually, ‘s gettin’ dark out, darlin’,” he said slowly, gauging your thoughts by the way you react, “next town’s probably quieting down right about now.”

“oh,” you say simply, “well, that's alright, i can just sleep in my car, i guess.”

he dismisses your suggestion, “no need for that, missy. we can set you up at ‘r place?” he offers, an eyebrow raised at the suggestion, sensing the hesitation in your expression and body language.

you shook your head rapidly—they had already took the time to even look at the problem with your car, but now taking up space in their house? you felt like you were being greedy now.

“no, i don’t want to intrude!” you try to decline politely, waving your hands dismissively in front of you, “besides you’ve already helped plenty by even offering to fix my car.”

he chuckles, shaking his head in return, his curls bouncing slightly, “ ‘s no biggie. take yer in ‘r truck,” he nods towards the scuffed up vehicle behind him, “set ya up in ‘r guest room all nice and cozy, have yer car fixed before you even wake up. how’s tha’ sound, darlin’?”

you bite your lip as he looks at you, brow still raised in the question of ‘will you come with us?’ and how can you refuse the nice country boys, with their funny accents and silly words, who just want to get you on your way?

you nod reluctantly—it's not like you didn’t want to go with them, but you still felt like you were being a bit of a leech, “yeah, okay, if it's not too much of a hassle-”

“atta girl!” he smacks a hand down on your shoulder, almost too eagerly as he guides your path towards the passenger side of his beat-up truck. you tense under his hand, glancing back at the car with a frown.

“well, hold on now, lando,” oscar calls out, shaking his head as he mutters something about the eagerness of the man, “she might need to get a few of ‘er things from ‘er car! practically kidnappin’ her with how fast yer tryin’ to stuff her inside!”

lando tsk’s his tongue, pointing a finger in agreement at oscar’s words, “ah, suppose yer right,” he reluctantly drops your hand from your shoulder to let you back to your car. 

you awkwardly shuffle your way to the trunk of your car, acutely aware of their heavy gazes—especially as they studied you.yYou knew they knew you weren’t from around here, that you were not used to being in the weeds as they were and it heated up your cheeks to be so out of place and awkward next to them.

you quickly fill your hands with a small blanket and a change of clothes for the next day before shutting the trunk again, locking the car behind you as you walk back to lando’s side. his hand goes to the small of your back as he convinces you to ride shotgun next to him.

oscar opens his mouth to protest, his hand raised as he’s about to speak when lando feverishly waved his hand next to his neck—cut it out, osc! he could practically hear in his thoughts.

after he had gotten you settled into his car, he handed you his keys to give it a start—it's okay, climb over the center console and put yer foot on the brake to get ‘er started! don't want ya to burn up now!

once again, he grabbed a fist of oscar’s shirt as he tugged him to the side again, glancing back towards the truck as you settled in the seat after starting the car.

“mate, i know what yer doin’,” he spoke in an exasperated tone of disapproval as he too gazed back at the truck.

lando sighed, clambering a hand on his shoulder and massaging the muscle—weirdly enough for oscar to shrug it off with a grimace look of disgust. lando rolls his eyes, his hand falling back down to his side as he huffs out a sigh, “look, i told you-”

“i get it, she’s a pretty thing, but ‘s unnecessary,” he tells him, raising his brows with his head tilted down, “you should’ve jus’ fixed ‘er car and sent ‘er on ‘er way.”

he sniffles, swiping the back of his dirty hand across his nose, “if you don’t want ‘er back at the house, i understand, osc…”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that i don’t want ‘er in ‘r house, i mean she seems like a nice girl, but-” he cuts himself off, pursing his lips as he closes with eyes with a big sigh before looking at lando seriously, “listen, i just don’t want you takin’ advantage of ‘er.”

“y’know me, osc, and you know i won’t.”

“yeah, but that was before i saw you lay yer eyes on her, and saw them bug out of yer damn head.”

“shut up.” he grumbled, rolling his eyes with the shake of his head as he walked back around to the driver’s side door, watching poor oscar who was forced into the backseat of the car because of you—the pretty little thing in their front passenger seat.

the drive back was awkward to say the least. silence hung in the air, the only sound was the heavy hum of the car and the scrape of the tires on the asphalt. you tried to keep your eyes forward, ignoring the man beside you who drove with a single hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. whenever you’d glanced over, you could see the paled skin of his knuckles from his hard grasp on the wheel.

you had to forcibly peel your eyes away from the sight of his hands​​—his dusty sleeves still rolled up to his elbows, which exposed the smeared dirt across his tanned skin from his outside work. you couldn’t see, but a smirk etched its way onto his lips, his thumb swiping across his lips as if to wipe it away before you or oscar would notice.

the truck jostled to the side a bit as the road changed to rough gravel, hearing the crunch under the weight of the car. the house—that you assumed belonged to the two guys—came into view.

your eyes scanned the land—plenty of trees surrounded the property with a few animals here and there, a red barn further back near the edge of the forest, and the house itself. 

you didn't know what to expect when the thought of their house had first crossed your mind—but it hadn’t been too far from what you were seeing. the house looked quaint—a single story with a wrap-around patio, another vehicle parked up outside a good distance away from a red, wood dog house that had a water bowl next to it.

as lando pulled up to the house, parked up next to the other car, he killed the engine before getting out. you swiftly followed by unbuckling your seatbelt as you reached for the door handle, but you were beaten to it by the poor backseat dweller.

you gave him a soft smile—which he returned—muttering a ‘thanks’ as you took the hand he offered as he guided you down from the tall truck. he gave you a nod, dropping your hand as he shut the door behind you before looking over at lando, whose jaw was noticeably clenched. all oscar did was roll his eyes and begin to show you around the property, inviting you into their cozy country home.

lando quickly found himself by your side, gently taking your belongings from your arms with a friendly smile as he interrupted oscar, “ill get you set up in ‘r guest room,” he offered, taking great care in holding your precious belongings, “osc, why don't you go show ‘er them barn cats in the meantime.”

he watched the way your eyes lit up, failing to realize that the smile on his face grew bigger at your reaction—he enjoyed the way the tension slowly filtered from your stance at the thought of seeing some cute cats.

the air had begun to cool now, they had finally finished naming off all the little critters that lived on their property and were now taking you back to their main house for a bite to eat before hitting the hay. you would’ve denied being hungry if it weren’t for your tummy grumbling for nearly ten minutes.

you would’ve denied being hungry if it weren’t for the smell of a nice, home cooked meal that made your mouth water and your tummy growl even most incessantly. it was by far the best meal you had ever eaten in your life, and you started to relax and loosen up a bit more in their presence.

so now you were all sitting around on the couches, one was worn leather and the other some frayed corduroy fabric with several different patches sewn onto it. oscar had his head leaned against the backrest of the leather couch, his cowboy hat over his face and arms over his chest that moved with every soft inhale and exhale. in one of his hands, tucked in his elbow was a green, half drunk beer bottle that was still cold as the condensation dripped down the side.

lando, on the other hand, had taken his spot in the old recliner, a beer also in hand as he sipped causally, eyes glued to the old tv—it still had antennas and you were perplexed on how it still worked. still, you watched whatever old movie lando had claimed was the best movie that had ever existed—it was older than you.

it was late in the evening, the sound of cicadas and other loud insects chirping away as the sun had finally fallen from the sky, painting the sky a dark black with speckled stars. you were confused at first as to why lando had ushered you out onto the porch so late at night, but once you glanced up to the nice sky, it had all made sense.

a view like this was never available to you in the city, but here and now, it was. away from all the light pollution and tall buildings of the city, you stood under the porch, leaning against the white railing in awe at the unfiltered night sky.

lando had smiled at your mumbles, countless words of how pretty, gorgeous and striking the view was, how lucky he was to be able to see this from where they stood. you shook your head in disbelief, “‘s so pretty,” you had mumbled breathlessly, turning your head to find that he hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

he leaned next to you, a beer still in hand—no doubt it wasn’t his first of the night. your arms barely grazed each other, the fabric of his long sleeve against your bare arm sent tingles over your body.

“sure is,” he whispered back, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he glanced appreciatively over the features of your face before tilting his beer bottle towards you. all you did was smile, feeling the heat rush to your face at his incentive—that you were his best view. you hesitantly took the bottle in your hand, swooshing around the liquid before taking a sip.

he chuckled as your face contorted in a grimace, taking the bottle back from you as he watched your reaction with deep enjoyment, “not a fan, eh?” he teased before taking a sip himself.

“definitely not,” you cough out once you managed to get it swallowed, smacking your lips as you still feel the taste on your tongue, “never had been before.”

his brows raised at your admission, “is that so?” he hums, nodding as he looks back over the property, “so what do ya drink?”

you hum, taking a moment to consider before listing off a few fruity cocktails that you had tried during your club outings. you watched the look of confusion come over his face, the sight making you giggle.

“wha’the hell is tha?” he questions, his voice raised an octave.

all you can do is shake your head and laugh as you nudge his shoulder, promising him, “i’ll have to take you to the city someday.”

“yeah, sure ya will.”

instead of responding, you just rolled your eyes and fixed your gaze back at the awe-striking view. you stood contently for a long time before lando had to force you inside to finally get some rest after a long day, muttering promises that your car would be fixed before first light tomorrow.

cock-a-doodle-do!

when the sound reached your ears, you slipped in consciousness, confusion and disbelief as you sat up in the wood-framed bed. you groaned, your shoulders hunched and hair heavily disheveled. you would’ve slept longer if it were for the rooster that had loudly crowed at the crack of dawn. you had hardly believed that it was something that roosters actually do—you were a bit naive. 

you rolled back in bed, shoving a pillow over your head to block out the sounds of incessant crowing until you had fallen back into a light sleep—stupid chicken.

and when you awoke again a couple hours later with a knock to the guest room door, you stirred. again you sat up, groaned at the forceful waking, but this time you stayed up as you called out for whoever knocked to come in.

the door creaked open, and there was oscar, a smile on his slightly sunburned face, as per usual, talking about how there’s some food left over that you can heat up. though, not all the words make it to your sleep-fogged brain so you just hum and nod, adjusting to the bright sun slipping through the curtains.

you sighed when you realized that by now, your car was probably fixed, that this was the last yummy meal cooked by these nice—and strangely attractive—country boys. surprisingly, you felt your heart ache at the thought of leaving. they had been so nice to you, inviting you into their home with nothing, but care and generosity.

but of course, leaving had come all too soon as you were driven back to where your car had broken down—oscar suffering in the backseat after being forced once again to sit back there. being lead to your car with small talk as it sunk in that the pretty little lady who’s car they fixed was now going on her way.

they stood either side of your car, oscar on the passenger side and lando on the driver's side. you had the door propped open, starting the car with a smile on your face, but it quickly turned sad.

as you closed the car door, you rolled down the window to look up at lando as he stood closer, hands in the front pockets of his jeans, a small smile on his lips as he looked down at you. you held out an arm to which he leaned over, allowing you to wrap in around him, his arm snaking around your back. he lightly patted it after a few moments, relishing in the affection before inevitably pulling away.

“thank you again, mr.—” you paused, realizing you hadn’t gotten as acquainted to learn their full names, suddenly feeling a bit red in the face as you blanked.

all lando did was smirk as he leaned against your car door, arm over the window as he bent down to eye level with you. his other hand snaked its way up to the hat that sat atop his head. he revealed the dark curls beneath as he lifted it from his head, situating it on yours the best he could—it wasn’t as secure of a fit on your head compared to his. “norris,” he finished the sentence for you, now holding out his hand for you to shake—which you do—“lando norris. it was nice to meeting ya, darlin’, see ya around.”

—

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[sapphicapocrypha]

♡ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 ♡

💋 𝕷. 𝕮𝖆𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖚 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

💋 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 — 3.9 k

💋 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘 — EXTREME, nsfw, date night, established relationship, praise, mommy kink, squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal fisting, bottom!reader

💋𝐀𝐨𝟑

— minors dni —

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The night wrapped Lilia and you in chilled, fresh air—a perfect contrast to the staleness you'd breathed inside the theatre, stuck in a box for over two hours watching Evita. It had been well worth it. You'd both dressed up in pearls and diamonds and evening gowns—all a glamour, of course—and sat together watching and listening to the story unfold. You'd rested your head against Lilia's shoulder when you'd gotten tired and felt the subtle vibrations of her humming along.

She had a weakness for theatre and musicals, and you had a weakness for her.

You should take her out more often like this, with wine and dinner in a private restaurant corner first and then a show. She carried a smile that spanned from ear to ear as the two of you walked through the moonlit car park. Her shawl rested in her arm bends, exposing her shoulders to the night and to you as the bardot style of her black dress left them bare. Her nicely draped cleavage was the cherry on top. You couldn't take your eyes off her. Both a little tipsy—you'd only had two glasses each and that had been hours ago—and all but floating after this wonderful evening.

"It's rude to stare," she quipped, sending you a look that made your heart stop. "And if you really want me to fulfil my part of the night, I expect exceptional manners."

Your cheeks burnt at the mention of what was to come. The special deal you'd struck a few nights ago when Lilia had been between your thighs, out of breath after eating you out like you've never been before. You'd caressed her silver curls out of her face as she'd rested her head on the inside of your thigh. But you have to take me out first, she'd demanded.

And so you'd taken her out.

Linking your arm with hers, you brushed your lips to the side of her face as you walked. "And what does that entail, Madame Calderu?"

You felt her smile against your lips and kissed the new curve of her cheek before she turned her head. Her eyes darted from yours to your lips and back up. "No lipstick smudges, for starters," she teased and stopped so you could correct her bright red lipstick with your thumb nail.

"There, all done." You had a dumb smile on your face; you knew it, but it didn't matter. Note when you had the most beautiful woman on your arm, who you'd fallen so madly in love with over the course of the last year after you'd met her in a bar on karaoke night where she'd sang You Must Love Me to you. You hadn't been able to fall asleep that night. "Anything else that would delight my lady?"

"Mh, I'd like to be the passenger seat princess tonight," she mused.

"That can be arranged."

You'd have to drive barefoot since your heels would make it impossible otherwise, but as long as Lilia's ancient truck didn't break down in the middle of nowhere, you were more than happy to do it. It must've been a hilarious image, the two of you dressed like Old Money, fleeing the scene in a worn-down truck with the paint peeling off.

‿୨♡୧‿

The road was empty but also barely lit, which meant it demanded your full attention. It didn't help that Lilia, although looking out of the window like the picture of innocence, toyed with the hem of your dress on your thigh, the large rings on her fingers brushing cool against your skin.

"What, baby?" she mocked. A shudder ran down her spine as it did whenever she used this term. "If you can't take a bit of teasing, what will you do once I'm wrist-deep inside you?"

She stole the breath from your lungs, your thighs tensing and pressing together under her touch, where she most certainly noticed. A low chuckle rumbled from her chest. She was enjoying this, the witch. And after she'd been the one with reservations at first!

"You're unbelievable, Lilia," you huffed with affection. "Do I have to fuck the insolence out of you first?"

Lilia gasped in faux offence and swatted your thigh, sending another wave of arousal to your core. You clutched the steering wheel for dear life and swallowed hard when she dug her almond-shaped gel nails into your flesh.

"Quite a big mouth for someone who couldn't stop begging me for more."

"Oh, shut up." You grinned at her, a mischievous glint in your eye, and added, "I love you."

"Love you too, honey," she said and released your thigh from her claws, resuming to light caresses.

A few moments passed in comfortable silence, with the dark rows of trees passing by like monsters lurking in the shadows and the car casting cones of light on the street ahead.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked later, a similar concern in her voice like on the night you'd first spoken about it. "I mean, it's quite a... big deal, isn't it? You could tear or—

"Stop worrying, darling," you shushed her gently. "I can never get enough of you. I want to feel you inside of me, all of you. It's not about the stretch or—can you understand that?"

"Yeah, I guess," she said, but her tone gave away that her mind was drifting off, either into worries or one of her visions. You hoped it was the first, since her visions tended to ruin your nights with her being thrown from one time line into the other, writhing and weeping, and you trying to hold her fragile mind together in this state.

Lilia inuldged your sexual adventurousness even though she preferred it simple. When she'd been younger, she'd already had her share of kink and fetish, she'd said, she didn't need that anymore. But you thought there was more to it. She'd been alone for a long time before you'd come along, hadn't been touched or loved, and it had left her self-conscious and timid in bed. She came from a time where female pleasure was a foreign concept and brute force had dominated bed chambers.

You'd never push her. She liked your tongue and fingers; she liked it when you took your time, but toys and more extravagant practices she didn't look at twice. Except for one thing, but other than that, for you, she'd wear the strap on every now and again and would force you to come until you saw stars should you ask so, but if it was up to her, she preferred the quiet, slow intimacy. Which was why it had taken you a lot of courage to request this of her, and you hadn't expected her to agree at all.

When you pulled up in front of the shop, your home, you opened the door for her and offered your hand to help her out, your heels dangling from your fingers. She had come down from her post-theatre high but still seemed pleased. Inside, you had the largest bouquet of roses you could afford waiting for her, dripping red like her lips. She brought her hands to her face in surprise, looking between you and the flowers. "You got those for me?"

"No, they're actually for my mistress; they must've been delivered to the wrong address."

"Very funny," she bit back and set her purse and shawl on the table to go and smell the roses. How you wished you could snap a picture with your eyes of this moment and keep it treasured forever in your mind. She breathed their scent in, and you came up behind her, placed your hand on her back, and caressed it up and down.

"I'm glad you like them."

The anticipation had you buzzing already.

Lilia came up and reached out to cup the side of your neck, pulling you into a slow, tender kiss. You pulled her in by the small of her back and tugged at her painted bottom lip, her smile against your mouth the greatest delight of them all. She had the widest smile, a big mouth in every sense of the word, and you loved it. Her nose bumped into your cheek as the kiss deepened, hungered, starved. All the tension and arousal that had gradually built during your night out broke through, and you had half a mind to lift her up onto the small table, bury your hands in her hair, and leave bite marks all over her body.

You parted for air but allowed not more than hair's width between your faces, noses still brushing. Hers was so perfectly crooked; it was your favourite thing to run your fingertip down the bridge of it. She made fun of you for how much you adored her, rightfully so—you were a fool.

Giggling out of pure, spontaneous joy, you pulled her closer with your arms wrapped tight around her lower back and peppered her mouth with more kisses while her hands rested against your chest. "Hey, you," she chuckled. "What's gotten into you, silly?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," you said and brushed a kiss to her forehead, amidst the curls. "Espresso?"

"Only if I'm making it."

"I have bed duty then, hm?"

"Looks like it."

You wiggled an eyebrow at her before turning heel and making quick work of the wall bed that was not quite big enough to fit two people, but you made do with it. Once it was set and the bedding smoothed out, you got the bottle of lube out of the drawer and laid a towel on top of the bed. Though you didn't want to make it look too clinical and made sure to cover it with enough pillows and blankets and lit some sweet, scented candles to combat Lilia's incense. You'd be lying if you said your nerves weren't all over the place. This was new for you too, but you looked forward to it, to Lilia.

She came to you with the small cups, and you patted the space next to you on the bed for her to sit, which she did. She patted your knee and kept her hand there as she took the first sip. Her hand shook a little, indicative of how nervous she too was. "You're staring again, honey," she admonished playfully, tapping her fingers on your knee.

You downed the espresso in one go, felt the bitterness rush down your throat, and gently took her empty cup from her hands, setting it on the table before pulling her down to lie with you, half on top. Her cleavage all but spilt out of her dress in this position, and you traced your finger along the neckline, asking for permission to free what had already broken out of its confines.

"Go on, then, doll," she said and followed as your fingers worked to tug the dress down enough to scoop her breasts out of it. She leaned over you and captured your lips as you fondled her large, hardened nipples, filled your hands with her full breasts, and caressed every bit of skin you could reach. Her breath wasn't as even anymore, and neither was yours. "It's only fair now that you strip too."

Taking Lilia's hand in yours, you guided it to the zipper on the side of your dress, under your arm, and together, with locked eyes, you pulled it down. She flipped it open and pulled it from under you with your help, leaving you naked beneath her. Your heart thudded against your chestbone at the sight of her with her dress folded down her middle and her glorious breasts hanging close to your face.

"C'mon, I know you want to," she said, smirking down on you as she brushed a wisp of hair from your forehead. Her fingers then travelled down the median of your body, tickling it with her magic. "Suck momma's tits."

Your lashes fluttered and fresh heat pooled between your legs, but you stopped fighting the urge and reached for her breasts, guiding one to your mouth and trapping her nipple in your hot cavern. She let out a breathy "mh" and dipped her fingers between your folds.

"Oh god," you breathed out around her stiff peak before sucking it back between your lips.

"Honey, you're burning up down there..." Lilia murmured, gathering your wetness up and spreading it over your folds. "And so soaked... Do we even need lube, hm? You'll take me raw?"

You halted your sucking aprubtly and stared at her wide eyes.

"I'm fucking with you, baby," she said, kissing you again with amusement prickling on her lips. She was enjoying this more than you'd expected. "Relax for me, yes?"

Nodding, you latched onto Lilia's breast again and swirled your tongue around her pebbled areola, grapsing her soft waist between your hands as she drew her thumb in tight circles over your clit. Tingles spread all over your sex, and little sounds of pleasure escaped you amidst your eager suckling.

"So good for momma," Lilia praised and brushed her knuckles along your cheekbone, nudging you away from her nipple. "Now open those legs a little wider; I'm gonna need some space to make you feel nice."

To your embarrassment, you obeyed without further ado, helpless now that you didn't have her breast to soothe yourself with anymore. Your breath shuddered and your ribcage expanded wide as she moved down your body, tickling your sides in the process as she planted a path of kisses down the middle of your stomach, leaving faint lipstick prints there.

"I'm crazy for you, Lilia," you breathed out, already feeling on the verge of losing your mind. "I might not survive it."

Lilia reached your mound, kissed it, and then sat back, kneeling between your legs that she angled and spread with care. "I've been blamed for many things, hon, but that not among them."

"And you'll be fine, just fine," she cooed, squeezing the bottle of lube to gather some of the viscous fluid in the hollow of her hand. "If at any point you want to stop, I'll stop. You know that. Right?"

"Yeah," you whispered, squirming for attention. Her touch had been gone too long, and air brushed over your drenched folds when you'd rather it be her.

Lilia sank her fingers into your slit—the cold lube on them made you shiver and breathe quicker—and lathered it generously, circling your entrance and then nudging your clit again to prepare you.

"Hng," you mewled, clutching the sheets. You were already so sensitised to her touch, full of unrestrained anticipation. "Fuck, darling, please."

You propped yourself up and stretched out your hand, asking Lilia to take it. She did. She squeezed it, held it, kept it in her own as she held your gaze and waited for your nod before pushing two fingers past your entrance. Your head dropped back, and a forceful breath expelled from your lungs while your fingers remained firmly locked.

"Shh, baby. Just give in; I've got you." She bent her neck to feather kisses around your clit, making your walls flutter around her fingers as she probed them further. "Are you ready for the next?"

You brought your head back up with great difficulty and looked at her through dazed eyes. "Okay."

"What a sight," she said under her breath, smiling fondly at you before lowering her gaze to your puffy folds as she prodded her third finger—with a ring on it—against the sensitive flesh. She rubbed her thumb over your knuckles as she eased it in, and you suppressed a groan, gave another squeeze before she pressed the gold ring inside as well. "Beautiful. Look at that."

"Fuck!" you ground out, feeling so full already. Three fingers you'd taken before—three was no problem, but your arousal was through the roof regardless, and you feared you wouldn't last long.

Lilia lowered herself to lie between your legs, more or less on her stomach, and rested your joined hands on your hip bone. Your hand automatically flew into her hair. She peppered kisses to the inside of your thigh, soothing you, waiting for you to come down before she attempted the next finger.

"So good for momma. My little darling. My little doll," she murmured into your thigh, nuzzling it. "Nice and easy..."

Your thundering heartbeat calmed a little as you focused on her affections—the feeling of her hair twirling around your fingers, her hand intertwined with yours. Sweat had begun to bead on your forehead, and you felt excruciably hot.

"More, momma," you said with an unsteady voice and opened your legs further. "I can take more."

Upon your words, Lilia curled her fingers inside you and resumed to move them gently back and forth, seeing how you'd react. Your features scrunched up, but you breathed through it, giving her the confidence to add her pinky. She flattened her fingers palm-up and withdrew a little; they came into your view, and it nearly took your breath away to see yourself so stuffed when she slid all four back into you. The stretch was bearable, but not without discomfort. Your hold on her hand tightened a little as she pushed to the knuckles, and she studied your face closely.

"Good girl," she praised, trying to distract you from your tight cunt wrapping snugly around her fingers. "Look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes."

Your eyes were glazed when you shifted your attention to her, and you bit your lip as pleasure buzzed through you. Not long now; you prayed you wouldn't come before she had all inside you, or you'd push her out with the contractions.

"Don't touch my clit now. I'll come," you warned her, and she nodded. "Oh, God, Lilia. This is so—I'm—I've never felt anything like this."

"I know, I know, baby." She let you stroke her hair for comfort, and you felt up in the clouds, overwhelmed with impending pleasure, the sheer monstrosity of the looming orgasm. She gave little pulses with her fingers to keep you open. "You're loosening up so nicely for me. See that? The last one will fit easily."

"Give me a minute; I need—kiss me?"

"Of course." She came up with some difficulty; the narrow bed creaked, with half her hand stuck in you and the other holding yours, but she tried her best not to show it and allow you this moment of connection. "Momma's baby can always have kisses."

She descended her plump lips onto your mouth and swept her tongue past your teeth, where you welcomed her willingly, eagerly, desperately. It was all the comfort you needed in the face of this challenge, this test of your trust in her. Her sighs emboldened you, and you surged up to kiss her more fiercely and nip at her lip. Her tongue dominated yours easily; she shifted it however she wanted and wrapped it around yours.

"Now," you grunted in the midst of your passion, letting go of her hand and lacing your arms around her neck instead.

Her mind seemed to stop for a few seconds—tick, tick, tick...—and she just took you in. Her pupils swallowing the deep brown of her eyes, her lips parted, her whole body still, just still. It was you who twitched and fluttered around her four fingers.

Was she giving you time to change her mind or herself?

"Lilia?"

"Yes, um.. yeah." Her breath came out shaky, and she rested her forehead against yours, closing her eyes. "Let's do this. We can do this."

You cupped her face. "We can."

Once she had taken another long breath, she adjusted her angle and rubbed her thumb over your clit a few times. You whimpered and meweled, and then her thumb moved down to your entrance, traced, hovered, and then one of your hands dropped to clutch the sheets as she twisted her full hand into you with an obscene, wet, sploshing sound.

You gasped for air, cursed, moaned, keened, whined—all of them together as you pressed yourself to Lilia, the bone of your skull against your forehead almost crushing, and she turned her fist in and out of you like a drill, slowly, gently, unbelievably stretching you. So open, so full, so good.

Your heart and muscles raced towards orgasm, your pelvic floor rocked, your walls clenching around the intrusion, trying to adjust. Your chest was flushed and heaving; a layer of sweat spread over your whole body. You were swollen and sore, so sore as the pleasure mounted.

"Look at you," Lilia said, her hand on the side of your face, her thumb brushing relentless crescents on your cheek. "So proud, baby. Momma's so proud. You've got all of me inside you, just like you wanted."

"Mh-hm," you hummed. "Ah—momma—mh—uck-fuck-fuck. Shit. God, I'm gonna—I'm gonna—come!"

And it all came crashing down on you.

"Yes, honey. Come," she coaxed. "You've earned it. Such a good, good girl. So brave. Coming so pretty in momma's arms."

You screamed, convulsed, and thrashed around, thighs shaking violently and cunt clenching within an inch of your life around the hand resting deep inside you. It would not budge even as you gushed and flooded around it. You panted and moaned as wave after wave of orgasmic ecstasy washed over you and your vision blackened at the edges. Your ears rang, and you couldn't hear what Lilia said anymore as she continued to praise and coo to you.

Your feet and hands tingled, your sex throbbed and ached pleasantly, but you could not tolerate the stretch any longer. Unable to form a single word, you relied on Lilia's ability to read your face and drew your eyebrows together. She understood.

"Listen to me, baby," she said as your hearing started to come back. "On a count of three, you push against my hand. Yes?"

You nodded.

"One, two... three," she counted, and you pushed while she withdrew her hand that came out coated in a thick layer of your arousal and orgasm.

It was all you could do to collapse into the bed, fully spent and sated, boneless.

You faintly heard Lilia licking her fingers clean and moaning at your taste; the rest she wiped on the towel beneath you that had been worth putting there for sure. Once she had dried you and herself, she settled beside your limp, exhausted form and pulled the duvet over the both of you.

Lilia noted the blissful smile plastered across your face and hummed softly. "You did so good, my little darling," she whispered to you again and caressed the side of your neck, your shoulder, and nudged the tip of your nose.

"Thank you," you murmered and reached for her.

Recognising your weakness, Lilia scooted closer until your bodies were pressed together and cradled your head to her bosom. You nuzzled into her and clutched at her body until you were impossibly close and enveloped in her warmth.

"Sleep, baby," she said in a hushed voice. "Momma's here..."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

A/N: bear with me I'm still trying to figure out interactions but I saw y'all asking for the other chapters on here. they're all up on ao3 if you don't know already just thought they might be good here too. might rename the fic tho cuz you must love me was only supposed to be the title of this chapter as a one shot

[veltana]

Stranded - Intro

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~400 ✦ Rating: Mature ✦ Warnings/tags: Grumpy mountain man!Bucky, don't ask me about US geography just go with it, eventual relationship/romance/smut. ✦ Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. ✦ Note: You voted for it, so here he is! I'm trying something new with this and making this an interactive story! I'm gonna post a poll tomorrow and you get to vote for what happens in the next part. You're also invited to send suggestions for what you want to happen in upcoming parts! I'm gonna be tagging everything with #stranded series.

Masterlist | AO3

It wasn’t your plan to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, but you are nonetheless.

A slew of curses fall out of your mouth as you stand in the freezing cold, trying to get a signal on your phone. It is still light out, but the sun is starting to set and the road you’re on has been deserted since you stopped.

Accepting defeat, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and try to devise another plan.

You can wait by the car, hoping someone will come by and be willing to help you. But you also remember seeing a small sign up a gravel road some way back.

Either stay out in the cold and die of hypothermia. Get murdered by someone stopping under the guise of helping you. Or get murdered by a loner in the mountains. None of the options seems very appealing to you. Walking back to town is not an option, either way, it’s too far.

After some thinking, you decide you can't stay and put a note in the window of your car that you’ve gone for help, and please don’t break into your car.

Fortunately for you, you’re actually kind of prepared for this. You have reasonable boots, a thick coat, beanie, and gloves. Rummaging through your suitcase, you stuff some other useful things into your backpack, before locking the car and starting to walk.

The gravel road is steep, but at least you’re warm, and not thinking about the chill that will come when your sweat cools. You catch a glimpse of a chimney and a thin trail of smoke rising between the hills and that keeps you going. Dusk is closing in, and you hope to reach the place before the road fades into darkness.

As the hill crests, you take a few seconds to catch your breath and get a better look at the house for the first time. Or, it’s more of a cabin, low and simple, but its windows glow warmly in the fading light, and a truck sits outside.

At least you’ll be warm when you get murdered!

You knock firmly on the door and wait. For a few seconds, there is nothing but stillness from inside, before you hear heavy footfalls on the other side of the door.

As the door opens you put on your best smile.

“Hi!” you introduce yourself. “My car broke down on the main road and I couldn’t get a signal, but I saw the sign and walked here. Do you have a working phone or wifi that I could use to get in contact with a towing company?”

The man eyes you up and down. He’s so much bigger than you, with blue piercing eyes, long hair held back by a black cap, and a scruffy beard. The silence stretches and you’re starting to think that maybe he didn’t understand you.

Then he grunts and says, “Come in, I’m Bucky.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Roadside

Summary: On your way back from a long weekend that you got to spent with Joel, his car breaks down. While you both waited for Tommy to get there to help, Joel has some ideas on how to spend the time waiting.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 792

Rating: T

Warnings: roadtrips, falling in love but slowly, car trouble, implied smut, kissing, flirting, feelings, teasing, kinda secret dating, fourteen year age gap

A/N: I'm missing references to three pics I think, but it doesn't get better than this lol (technically I am not here, because I am on a writing break) The moodboard screamed road trip to me, so this is what I did. This is for @iamasaddie 24 hour writing challenge and I hope it does not suck 🙃

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

„What are you gonna tell him when he gets here?“ You hummed, looking up at Joel. He gave you a small smile before he stepped closer, his big, strong hands coming down to part your legs for him, stepping between them so he was towering over you, the sun slowly setting on the horizon.

You had almost made it home. 

After a long weekend of having Joel to yourself without the fear of running into someone you both knew (if you left your hotel room at all) that you had spend in a tiny town in close to Dallas, you were on your way back, just an hour out of Austin when his truck made a very sad noise until the engine went out and the car stopped on the side of the road. 

He had tried to get it to work before, with a long groan, he told you he had to call Tommy cause the something something needed a something so he could fix it. He had kept his eyes on you the whole times as he made the call, looking beyond sexy in the shirt you bought him, with his too long getting hair that you had spent all night running your fingers through as he made you cum over and over again until you both passed out. 

You had met Tommy before. You just hadn’t met him as Joel’s girlfriend.

Things between you and Joel had been… slow until they weren’t.

You’ve known each other for almost two years due to you working as an interior designer occasionally with his company. But it was six months ago that you had gotten closer as you worked on a very time consuming project where the client brought you both to the verge of insanity with how often they were changing the plans. 

He had finally asked you out one night and the rest as they say, was history. 

„Guess I’m finally gonna introduce my controversially young girlfriend to him,“ Joel smiled before he kissed you softly. You gasped in mock offence, before tilting your chin up to meet his lips with a smile, your hands running up his broad back until your fingers slipped into his hair on the back of his neck. 

„Not that controversial,“ you grinned and he chuckled before his lips kissed down your neck. 

„Fourteen years is a lot,“ he mumbled against your neck and you sighed, letting your head fall to the side to give him more access. One of his hands slowly drifted up your thighs, his fingers pushing the fabric of your skirt up. 

„Only if you care what other people think. Last time I checked, we’re both very consenting adults,“ you said and he playfully bit into your neck making your shriek. 

„How consenting are we talking about here exactly?“ He asked and you looked up at him as one of his hands slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing over your damp panties. 

You could feel your nipples harden against the fabric of the shirt you had put on this morning and Joel seemed to notice too, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits, his thumb playing with your nipple.

Looking around you realised that you were pretty much in the middle of nowhere. You couldn’t even remember when you had seen a car drive by the last time. 

„Consenting enough to let you fuck me in the middle of nowhere until your brother gets here,“ you whispered against his ear and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against yours. 

„Atta girl,“ he grinned, before he kissed you again while his hands made quick work of your underwear. 

You could still feel him dripping out of you, your legs a little weak, when you jumped of the back of the truck, Joel taking your hand as the door of the car that had parked behind his opened and a man jumped out, looking between the two of you. 

The sun had set by now, the cold air making you shiver and Joel let go of your hand, to put an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, the warmth of his body helping instantly. 

„So this is how I get to find out the mysterious woman that makes my brother grin like a teenager with a crush when he looks at his phone is you?“ Tommy Miller approached with a wide grin. You could practically hear Joel roll his eyes and you smiled at his brother. 

„You got a crush on me, Miller?“ You teased and looked up at him. 

„Brat,“ he sighed, fighting a smile.

„You love it,“ you winked, feeling him pull you closer. 

„Yeah, I really do,“ he hummed before he kissed you softly. 

[almostheav4n]

Tomorrow Never Came: Chapter 1

masterlist | ao3

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ warnings: unspecified age gap, hints at past SA, no break-out, no y/n, no reader description, discussion of past trauma, reader develops a reliance on him, hints at a ddlg relationship in terms of a caregiver x little relationship (reader is of legal age), joel is a vietnam war vet with a very tough exterior so it takes a bit to get it moving but it does by chapter 2! <3 word count: 5,495 summary: set in Texas in the 1980s, Joel picks you up on the side of the road when headed west, you embark upon a journey of self-discovery with the help of a seasoned man

“Do you wanna see the west with me? Cause loves out there & I can’t leave it be.”

The cold beer bottle contrasts your harsh, warm, two-handed grip on it as your feet sway from the bar stool sat at. Your cross-country adventure had landed you here, in west Texas, penniless & destitute, nothing but the jacket on your shoulders and the pistol in your pocket. 

You had traveled from west to east in an attempt to meet your father who you later found out wanted nothing to do with you. Having had saved up for years to make the trip, not accounting for how expensive shit was, landed you in the middle of nowhere Texas, trying to make your way back to your home in California. Truth be told, you set your hopes high that maybe your father had just desired to leave your mom and not you but you learned very quickly that wasn’t the case. 

Now you sit, in a dusty dive bar, men circling like vultures as you try hard to ignore their glances and as one next to you, leans into mumble something you can’t make out. Instead you focus on the sounds if Bob Dylans ‘knockin on heaven door’ that plays loudly from the busted jukebox. 

“Wanna dance?” You slur a bit, not necessarily because of the alcohol, but maybe an attempt to match the demeanor of the man next to you, who bought you the beer. He isn’t ugly, he isn’t pretty. He is drunk though, maybe drunk enough that you can slip some bills from his wallet. 

He’s eager you realize as his hand lands on the small of your back, tripping a bit over his feet to make his way to the dusty center, the wood creaking beneath your feet as you place your hands to his chest, slightly propping him up, the bourbon on his breath quite rich. 

Your eyes scan the room to find men and women watching, finding it a bit silly. Being from California, quite used to others dancing like no ones watching. Finding that in Texas, people are always watchers rather than dancers. 

A watcher catches your eyes, his grayish-green eyes narrowed towards you as he brings a glass to his lips, his face mostly shadowed by a brown cowboy hat as he leans against a pillar. 

You can’t help but be a little taken aback, his aura fogging up the space around him like a puff of smoke, as he tilts his head down, focusing on the drink in his hand, scuffing up his boot on the ground before turning his attention back to you. Swiping his tongue against his bottom lip as he adjusts himself, thumbing his belt loop. 

It fills your belly, the admiration, bubbling up into your throat as you smile, a little quirk of the lips as you stare at him, stupidly and obviously. 

He returns the stare. Not smiling back, but the stern gaze worn on his brows replaced by a softer one, more relaxed. 

You're pulled back into reality as the man’s hand slips below your back onto your behind as you sway to the music, causing you to break apart. Whispering nonsense into his ear comprising of ‘if he wants to get out of here’, knowing he’s drunk enough and will most likely barely make it to his car. 

You’re correct as he piles into his truck and falls asleep halfway out of the lot, allowing you to maneuver the vehicle to the side, eventually slipping into his pockets to pull out his wallet and the forty-three dollars.

Ditching him there, you head for a motel and pay them the $30 fee for one night, giving you enough time to bathe and wash your clothes in the bathtub before eating half of a candy bar and heading to bed. 

The nearest grocery store is a bit of a long haul as you walk a few miles until you head into the small mart. Its the size of a shoe box with people littered up and down the aisles as you make your way to the hygiene aisle, slipping a packaged bar of soap into your deep pockets along with tampons. Wandering onto other aisles, sifting through the snacks before landing on a few breakfast bars, deciding to slide one up your sleeve. Your eyes peeking to the side to find that you’re being watched by a familiar set of eyes. 

You slip up the bar into your sleeve before turning to the man you had seen yesterday, his brow raised curiously, having seen your little trick. 

He strikes you once again in a different light… his worn jeans, scuffed boots, his flanneled shirt, the sleeves rolled up exposing his tanned arms, thick veins roped within them leading to his hands, the one specifically carrying a cart with his own personal items. His dark beard ruffles as he bites on his inner cheek, studying you it seems, his eyes roaming around the aisle and then back to you. The same hat worn yesterday, sturdy on his head. 

You hum a bit, leaning back on your heels, not sure whether he means to turn you in or something else. You simply bring your finger to your lips to create a ‘shush’ sound in hopes he will keep your secret before heading for the exit, stopping to pick up a coke, tossing a quarter to the cashier, and promptly exiting. 

Finding a nearby patch of grass, you pass your time by watching the cars and drinking your Coke until it’s empty. You figure now might be the time to make your way from Texas, heading for the busiest road and sticking your thumb out as you follow along the white line on a dirt path. 

Five cars pass before a blue Ford pickup truck pulls up, the gleaming shine causing you to cover your eyes as they adjust, hearing the driver's door open & close. 

You instinctively take a step back, watching a familiar hat make its way from around the truck as you can’t help but break out into a smile. 

“Third times the charm huh?” You laugh a bit watching him remove a hat, letting it fall to the side in his hand as he runs his other hand through his hair. 

“Uh-huh,” He grunts, leaning against the side of the truck, observing you just as he did in the store and in the bar.

“You a cop?” You question, brows scrunching up to match his hardened gaze. The question makes him laugh, a short release of breath before composing himself. 

“Ain’t a cop darlin’…” He mutters, eyes going to your tattered shoes, biting on the inside of his cheek once more, followed by a clicking sound of the mouth.

“Who are ya then?” you place your hands on your hips, attempting to assert any dominance you have, feeling picked apart by his gaze. 

“Didn’t your mama tell you not to talk to strangers?” He inches closer, calculated, stopping far enough from you to bring you ease, his noticeable large size gaining your attention. 

“Tell me your name and you won’t be a stranger… this being our third meeting I find myself quite familiar with you…” You don’t know why your voice catches in your throat as you speak, but you clear it quickly.  

Maybe because he was unlike the men you came across during your journey. Quite honestly, the men you came across reminded you of the boys in high school. Unsure, dull, weak. A boy in the shell of a “man”. 

He wasn’t a boy in the body of a man, just a full man, through & through. 

“Joel.” He offers, his head pointed towards the ground, focused on a trail of ants, then back to you. It’s difficult to hold his gaze without blushing. “Where ya headed?”

“West… California.” You admit, watching as he nods, eyes searching the sky now, observing as he always seems to do. 

“What’s there for you in California?” He questions, eyes coming back to you as you feel your words stuck in your throat, his stare enough to cause your knees to buckle and weaken. It’s a hard gaze, one you hadn’t noticed as clearly beneath the shadow of his cowboy hat.  

“My mama…” you mutter, words coming out hushed, embarrassed, deciding to focus your own attention on the ants, you stupidly feel naked when he looks at you just bare and open.  

You don’t hear him head for the door, only hear the door opening, your eyes shooting up to Joel as he looks at you, bewildered as if you should know what to do, patiently waiting as your eyes swipe back from him to the truck and back to him. 

“Whatre you waitin on? Get in.” He speaks lowly as you attempt not to feel stupid, the blood rushing to your cheeks with a quickness as you bite your lip back.

“Not gonna kill me right?” You ask, stuffing your hands in your pockets watching as he lets out his same light laugh, just a puff of air. 

“I ain’t planning on it, sweetheart.” He bites on his bottom lip, the thick hair on his beard twitching as he waits. 

You hesitantly approach the vehicle, calculated steps leading you around where he stands by the door, sliding into the truck, the leather seating new indicating a certain amount of wealth that puzzles you. 

To be honest, the men who usually attempted to pick you up were composed of overly excited older men with fast food wrappers & cigarette buds piled up in the passenger's seat and the smell of beer wafting from the vehicle. 

It was rare you ever accepted rides from men, usually finding a chick who could take you a few hours down before dropping you off. 

His truck however seemed almost brand new, and clean, even the trash within it, was still kept nicer than most people who offered you a ride. 

The door shuts beside you with a click as he soon piles in, turning the ignition with ease and one hand steering the vehicle back onto the road with one smooth motion. 

It’s a routine, you think as you watch his legs spread apart along the seat, his free hand fumbling with the volume of the radio as he finds a station playing old country which seems to satisfy him as he relaxes into a manspreaded position. 

The motor and the hum of the songs is all you hear about an hour in as you realize he’s quite quiet. Which is rare. 

He hadn’t pestered you about your past, stared longingly at your exposed legs in the summer heat, or even tried to touch you. 

The few times you had gotten rides for men when you were younger and rather dumb, they had talked your ear off about something irrelevant, asked too many questions, or taken the first opportunity to lean over and try to fuck you right in the seat. 

He is quiet. Joel's quiet… hard set gaze focused on the road, the only constant motion being the rise and fall of his chest & occasional repositioning of the wheel.  

He pays you no mind. You would like to assume he’s gay but you don’t think so 100%

“You pick up strays often?” You break the silence, used to being the quiet one. 

He doesn’t answer immediately, only readjusts himself in the seat. You wonder if he is maybe a serial killer. 

The dirt under your fingernails seems interesting all of a sudden as you focus your attention on cleaning them, the awkward energy looming within the truck, 

“Strays…” He responds, finally, rubbing his hand over his beard before scratching at it with a deep sigh. 

“Don’t usually pick up hitch-hikers if’s what you’re askin’” He grumbles lowly, his Texan accent deep and thick. 

You think for a beat, wondering if his natural nature is stoicism and a cold front or if he’s already annoyed by his pestering passenger. 

“Why’d you pick me up then?” You question turning your head towards him, attempting to read him more. 

God, it takes him forever to respond. You aren’t sure if he’s thinking about the question or just in no hurry whatsoever, but it fills you with anxiety and anticipation. 

“Well…  when you stole from Earl, he sorta went around lookin' for you… Then when I saw you stealin' from that shop, I assumed it’d be best to get you to where you need’ta go so trouble doesn’t find you no more.” He admits shooting you a quick look, a quick raise of the brow in a disciplinary way, he means to scold you, you think.  

“Earl?”

“That man you went home with from that bar…”

“Oh… ha! earl,” you snort a bit remembering him. When you stole, you made sure to never stick around for that reason exactly. 

“Well, my thoughts on the matter are men take advantage of drunk women every day, I’m just leveling the playing field.” You respond in a sassy manner, crossing your ankles to sit up straighter, asserting yourself.  

“I ain’t judgin, I just didn’t want to see him comin’ down to find you.. he’s a drunk & a mean one,” He mentions cracking the window, the summer breeze picking up the strands of his dark brown hair & some gray.  

“You know a lot about this, ‘Earl’ ?” You roll down your window then, the wind blowing over your face a familiar and refreshing feeling, picking up your own hair as it tossles over your face. 

“Knew Earl all my life, worked for me…” He grunts, clearing his throat. 

“You hire drunks?” You giggle, feeling like you caught him, disappointed he doesn’t return the laugh as he only shrugs. 

“Like I said… I don’t judge, ‘f the work is done, it's done.” He switches his blinker on before pulling into a lot filled with shops, your eyebrows scrunching as you eye him. Bathroom break maybe. 

“Bout time to eat and get you some new shoes…” He gestures down to your feet as he parks, slightly far from other cars, maneuvering into the spot with ease as the truck comes to a jolt. 

You giggle dumbfoundedly, tickled by the thought that he thinks you walk around in tattered shoes because you choose to. “Joel… I don't have any money.” 

The sound of his door closing acts as a response as it barely grants you a moment to think until your side door is pulled open. “I am well aware of that, cmon now.” 

He’s confusing, his coldness, and lack of conversation, followed by an offering to purchase new shoes. You feel the need to make it clear to him you aren’t a prostitute. 

“I’m not a hooker,” Your nose naturally scrunches in confusion, ready to bolt if he accuses you of wasting his time or something worse. 

He laughs, a true laugh, his shoulders rising and falling as he tips his head down in a chuckle, the top of his cowboy hat revealed to you. 

“I know darling, now don’t rush on my account,” he teases, still propped up against the door, waiting for you, patiently. 

You bite your lip back to distract from your red cheeks. He’s quick to reach his hand out to help you down from the truck as you take it, calloused and warm. 

You don’t desire to let go, trying to remember the feel as he breaks away once you find your footing. 

His long strides are difficult to keep up with you find, his head moving from left to right then left again, surveying the lot for oncoming traffic or anything else that might come at you sideways in a lot, always on alert it seems as he leads you towards a store reading ‘PAYLESS’. 

The door opens with a jingle as he holds it open for you before leading you down the multiple aisles, past the men's section into the womens. 

You collide with his muscled back as he stops abruptly, your eyes narrowing as you back up slightly. 

It takes a few seconds to realize he is waiting for you. Looking down at you, your eyes connecting up to him as blood familiarly rushes into your cheeks, standing closer to him than you ever have been honestly, allowing you to smell his cedarwood aftershave, makes you wanna purr. 

“Well, you have to go select the shoes now don’t you?” He chuckles as he always does, fast and dry but warm as you look down the aisles, scrunching up your nose in confusion. 

“Where you will be?” It’s stupid to already feel a sort of attachment to him, curious about his well-being more for the safety of your own. 

“I’ll be parked right here,” He gestures to a nearby bench seated across a young child screaming and crying as a mother forces on their shoes. 

You only nod back, not trusting your mouth to form appropriate words as he gives you a nice playful push with his elbow passing behind you, gesturing for you to go on. 

He does just what he said he would and you find yourself slivering between row after row of shoes, eventually finding a nice comfortable shoe that doesn’t cost too much, moving to show Joel before being gobsmacked by a pair of leather western boots. 

You decide to pick both, coming to the conclusion that Joel can decide as you walk towards him with one shoe on each foot.

“Okay, okay, ya gotta choose alright?” You position yourself in front of him, finally getting the chance to be above him, feeling a sort of strength and confidence because of it.

His head rises from where it was slouched on his chest, his hat covering most of it until he takes it off with a puzzled look on his face, probably having just napped you think. 

“I gotta choose huh?” He questions slowly in a drawl, snorting a bit as he rubs his nose. 

“Mhm!” You nod turning to the back of the aisle before walking down the carpet as if it’s a catwalk, giving him a little twirl at the end watching as his brows raise in curiosity. 

He responds with a slow clap as you curtsey to finish it off, eyebrows high as they screw together. 

“Well, aren’t you just the bee's knees…” He smirks a bit turning his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek in long thought as you rock back and forth on your feet in the silence.

“I say get 'em’ both.” He shrugs. 

“Joel…” you pout placing your hands on your hips, “You’re supposed to choose the best one.”

“Go’n and get both, s’ my choice, like you said… toss that pair on your feet and wear one out of the store. Those shoes have seen better days…” He gestures to worn ones nearby with his foot before sucking his bottom lip in, biting down as you scrunch up your face once again, confused by his generosity. 

You open your mouth to speak until you hear his name called, a gentleman his age heading over with a big smile on his face as Joel gets up to greet him shocked it seems by seeing the man. Before he dives into conversation about some time in Arkansas they shared. 

He seems to forget your presence until he fishes in his pocket before turning to you. 

“Check out baby, I’ll be there soon,” He mumbles, handing you his wallet before turning back to converse with the man about god knows what. 

Baby… 

It sits on your tongue as you repeat the word… baby. 

Once you pack up the western boots & toss your ratty pair, curiosity gets the best of you look through his wallet to find a hefty amount of cash along with a few cards, his ID reading ‘JOEL MILLER’. 

You ponder why he trusted you with it, you could bolt, to be quite honest, live off for months with the amount of cash stored. 

You don’t, finding zero need to. 

Eventually, you realize it could be because he trusts you since he’s the furthest from careless. 

It’s a funny feeling, trust, as you make your way to the checkout stand. A boy maybe a bit older than you reading a magazine as you have to muster up a ‘hello’ to gain his attention. 

“Fuh- Sorry, shi-, I mean, sorry I ain’t see you or nothin’” he nervously rambles taking the boxes, one empty but still necessary to scan.  

“Wasn’t ignorin’ you…” He adds as you smile a bit, attempting to ease his nerves. 

You are reminded of how you are able to make boys nervous, having been able to do so since grade school, and not necessarily because you were some Hollywood star, you simply carried yourself with a certain amount of confidence that had boys sputtering and timid. 

It’s refreshing you find after figuring you don't seem to do that to Joel. 

He is never nervous around you, quite the opposite as you feel as if butterflies are swimming in your belly every time he looks at you.  

The boy with a nametag reading, Ted, begins to bag as you slide the total amount on the counter from Joel’s wallet, your pinky hitting a jar of candy on the counter. 

“These free?” You question eyeing a red lollipop. 

“No, um, you can have it, it’s 25 cents, goes to helping out a kid in need,” He fumbles giving you your change as his sweaty hand releases it into yours. 

You return a quarter and fish out your lollipop, discarding the wrapper into your pocket before plucking it into your mouth. 

It isn’t difficult to notice the boys attention on your mouth as your lips wrap around the sucker as you turn your head a bit, sorta wishing it was this easy with Joel. It makes you smile a bit, the idea of getting this reaction from him but the boy thinks it's for him as he smiles back. 

You make sure to wear a look of disgust to dissuade him from thinking it’s for him, lost in your own fantasies as you stick the lollipop far into your cheek. 

“You uh- need help carrying this back, maybe I can help you carry this back to your car?” He offers a little breathless as you pop the sucker from your mouth. 

“Maybe, uh I don’t know where-” You start

“Sorry bout that darlin’,” the gruff voice behind you is followed by the warmth of a hand on your hip as he picks up the bag with the boxes, ignoring the cashier's hand on it. 

“We all square?” He questions looking down at you in a familiar stern manner, maybe questioning the fact that you didn’t steal this time.

“Uh huh,” you nod, “Bought candy too…”

“Oh yeah I can see that-”

You press the lollipop to his lips cutting him off suddenly, expecting to gain some sort of reaction from him finally, but he only opens his mouth to take it in before stuffing it in his cheek, “Delicious… let’s get a move on.” 

A giggle expels from your mouth as you find yourself bewildered as he leads you out of the store before handing the sucker back to you in which you take it swiftly, before waving goodbye to the clerk who wears the strangest expression of confusion, making you laugh even more. 

You expect to head to the truck, and instead follow him towards a sandwich shop as he holds the door open for an elderly woman before letting you pass in. 

“You know what you want? They got hot & cold sandwiches it seems…” He mutters moving up in the line as there’s a good amount of people in front of you. 

“Umm, just a coke…” you hum happily looking at the glass bottled drink behind the counters before hearing Joel sigh out gruffly. 

“Look at me.” He’s stern when he speaks yet soft as he turns towards you, curling over as he closes the space between your bodies. You attempt to make eye contact with his grayish-green eyes, before looking down at your feet, your stomach turning in on itself. 

It isn’t until his fingers move along your jaw to your chin, tugging it up so you can look at him right there, your face resting in the cup of his hand, his hats shadow covering the both of you, making it feel as if you are the only people in the room as a slow gulp glides down your throat, his eyes searching yours as you can feel his breath on your lips. 

“I need you to get real food, you’re gonna get a sandwich. You understand me?” You open your mouth slightly to breathe in his words, stuck in a trance that has you resting your hands on his forearms for balance. 

You wish to speak, to object but only nod as he seems satisfied before breaking away to move up in line with only two people now ahead of you. 

It feels as if your heart is beating through your throat as you expected him to kiss you then, wanted him to. Yearned for it, lips left unsatisfied as you take them between your teeth to gnaw at them. 

He doesn’t even seem bothered in the slightest as he continues to read the menu, distracted as you size him up. 

His tanned arms roped with veins leading down to his hands, his jeans bolted together with a belt as the jeans hang over his boots, the thick beard that holds specks of gray that creep down his throat. His face littered with scars, the most prominent on his nose… he’s truly one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever come across. 

Why didn’t he kiss you… 

Your thoughts are interrupted as the person making the sandwiches asks what you want. You list off an assortment of turkey and cheese and other veggies before turning to Joel, somewhat seeking his approval as he gives you a little nod. 

You slip his wallet into his jeans before heading to find a table in the back, immediately getting side-tracked by a little kiddie ride shaped as a horse, seen through the glass window of the building, fishing into your own pockets to pull out a little ten-cent coin before exiting through the back door. 

It isn’t hard to settle onto it, clearly made for those younger but something fun to do while you wait as it begins to rock you back n forth, popping your forgotten sucker back into your mouth as you move your hips with the ride, it brings you back to a certain comfort forgotten in your childhood as you close your eyes, listening to the carnival music that exudes from the speaker box next to it.  

“What… are you doing?” You're interrupted by a familiar voice as you turn your head to Joel as he stands by the door, propped up, arms folded across his chest in a questioning way, not judging but curious. 

“Ridin’ a pony…” You hum biting into your lollipop, turning back your attention to the machine as it ceases. 

“Seems like you’re done ridin’ a pony, come on in so we can eat.” He huffs out, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, the summer sun shining down as you remove yourself before heading inside, sliding into a seat across for him, unwrapping your sandwich to find he’s already dug into his own, pastrami it seems. 

Your eyes narrow behind him as you find a group of teen boys, three, eyeing you. 

One spreading his legs open as another makes a gesture to sit on his lap, realizing they had seen you from the glass on the ride, a queasy feeling filling your stomach as you remove your hands from the wrapper placing them in your lap.

It doesn’t take Joel long to notice, his brow raising, chewing on the last bites in his mouth before leaning back in his seat, expecting some sort of reason as to why you haven’t touched your food. 

“Theyre just… starin…” You whisper, hushed, scared to provoke them, avoiding their gaze, and chuckles from behind him. You’re older than them, you know it, but there's more of them, and with men, when there's a will there's a way. 

He’s quick to set his food down, not missing a beat as his head swivels over his shoulder before back to you. 

It’s hard to hide your sickening expression, regretting your choice to reconnect with your inner child, “Can we maybe leave?” 

The stupid tears prick at your eyes as you once more feel dwindled to a piece of meat for the wolves to pick at. 

You don’t expect the reaction, you don’t expect Joel to get up with a loud screech of the chair against the tile that has patrons of the shop turning to see the commotion. His reserved, quiet, & sturdy demeanor, now replaced with a brash, harsh, mighty one as he approaches the table. 

“There a fucking problem?” 

He doesn’t yell… you think it’s scarier that way? His anger low and simmering yet already intimidating, you hope you never see his anger come to a rolling boil. 

The men, younger, stupider, shake their heads, one of them speaking up, “N- no just having fun, just fun…” You don’t hear Joel’s response but watch as the boys scurry out eventually, allowing Joel to return to the table after apologizing to a nearby couple for his language. 

He sits back down, not waiting to take a bite into his sandwich before gesturing to yours as you obey, unwrapping it and digging in to eat in comfortable silence, a strong wave of protection washing over you. An unfamiliar one, one never expressed to you before, it isn’t necessarily the possessive protection from toxic boys in the past, it’s healthy and feels good? 

You don’t notice he’s finished, lost in your own thoughts until you hear his mouth ‘tick’ and then feel his thumb swipe at the corner of your mouth getting at a bit of mustard there before pressing it to his mouth, sucking it off with a quick motion that leaves you biting into your sandwich to subdue the need to press your lips to his, squeezing your thighs together. 

It’s nice just sitting in silence with him, as he sips his beer, and you drink your coke, finishing eventually, keeping the bottle cap.

Eventually, you head back to the truck. 

Truth be told you hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks, making it hard to stay awake for the drive, eventually resting your head on the window as you think of telling Joel just that, maybe to show your gratitude. 

Instead, you drift off deciding whether to or not to. 

You don’t notice you’re awake until you collide with a plush mattress, groaning into the comforter as you come to realize you’re in a bed. 

You spring awake, forgetting the day, forgetting where you are, only knowing you are now in a strange bed placed there by a person…

“Easy…” A familiar voice sounds out as you scramble to get up, a warm hand pressing to your chest to ease you back down as you remember, it’s Joel, you’re safe. 

He pulls back the covers as you slip in, expecting to hear him follow in soon, expecting to feel his body heat warm the cold bed.  

Instead, you watch as his figure strides to the door, confusion setting in. 

“Joel… where are you going?” It comes out in a hush, feeling too vulnerable for your own skin, the exterior of hyper-independence you've worn since grade school replaced by an anxious curiosity.  

“Got a room right next door, just holler f’ya need anythin…” He moves to open the door, a gust of warm wind entering as you realize it’s night, a nearby clock reading 8:32 p.m.

You don’t know why you’re frustrated, it’s stupid. Your hands balling up the sheets as you clench onto them, attempting to figure out what it would to get him to stay. 

He’s being respectful you think, but it makes a certain loneliness you are familiar with, creep its way up your spine. You don’t have the guts to ask him to stay. 

“Okay… if some serial killer comes to get me in the middle of the night it's your fault,” is all you can get out, attempting to soothe your own anxiety with jokes. 

You can see him slightly as he exits the door, the soft moonlight reflected upon him in a way that makes your heart flutter, “Not on my watch baby, get some sleep.” 

The door shuts with a hard thud and soon you get up to lock it behind him leaving you wishing he shared the bed with you. 

You drift off that night imagining what it would look like if he did.

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: The journey continues with quiet tension as you adjust to your injury and the isolation of the open road. After setting up camp, you find yourself navigating the discomfort of shared space and thoughts of the danger that lies ahead.

no warnings apply

The road ahead stretches long and unforgiving. The world feels so… vast, and you, so small. Out here, in the open, in the middle of nowhere.

The engine hummed beneath you as you slowly pulled yourself from a heavy sleep. Joel was still in the driver’s seat, Ellie next to him. Sharp, unrelenting aches shot up your leg, and you reached down to check the wound.

Not bleeding anymore, at least. But fuck, did it hurt.

After an hour of driving that first night, you’d stopped on the side of the road. Joel had done his best to check the wound for any remaining bullet fragments. He’d torn your pant leg off, soaked in crimson blood. You were ‘lucky,’ he’d said while stitching you up. The bullet had gone clean through the other side of your thigh without hitting the main artery. But you didn’t feel lucky. Not with the pain still searing through you all night. Not while you were praying for no infection.

Now, the handkerchief around your leg isn’t as soaked as your jeans had been, now cut off into shorts. The stitched skin is aching and painful, but bearable–no longer white hot and blinding. Your knees bruised and scuffed from the fall to the ground.

“Hey,” Ellie says from the front seat, turning to look at you. “You okay?”

You rub your eyes, still groggy from sleep, and run a hand through your hair, looking at her. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” you sigh, “How long was I out?”

“’Bout six hours,” Ellie said softly, glancing at Joel.

You looked out the window, surprised to see… nothing. No towns, no road signs, no signs of life at all. Just open overgrown fields against lush forests.

You don’t bother to even ask where you are. It’s not like it really mattered anymore since being forced from the only thing you’ve ever known.

You lean your head back against the seat, eyes heavy, your body still aching from the sharp pull of your leg. The road’s monotonous hum is almost soothing, but the emptiness of it all—the nothingness that stretches out endlessly—settles over you like a thick blanket of hopelessness. It’s so quiet, the kind of silence that makes you feel small. You close your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creep in again, the weight of everything catching up to you, settling in your bones.

Maybe if I just sleep long enough, this will all feel a little less real.

But it doesn’t. You try to push the thoughts away, to bury them under the dull throb in your leg, but they keep coming. The feeling of loss. Of being so far from everything. Of not knowing where you’re going, or if you’re even meant to get there.

The truck bumps over the uneven terrain, jolting you back into consciousness, and you blink up at the roof of the cab. Joel’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts. “That’s enough for today,” he says, his tone quiet but resolute.

You hear the truck slow, tires crunching over gravel as he pulls off the road, deeper into the woods. The truck rocks and bumps, the suspension straining as Joel drives farther in, trying to get as far from the road as he can. You let your eyes flutter shut again, fighting the overwhelming urge to just sleep, but the quiet around you weighs on your mind.

The truck comes to a stop, and you feel the sudden stillness in the air. The engine cuts off, and Joel’s voice breaks the silence again as he shifts in his seat, getting out of the truck and opening your door, “Come on now,”

You drag yourself out of the truck, wincing as your leg protests, but you don’t complain. Ellie’s already moving around, taking a look around, chattering about something to Joel that you don’t care to pay attention to. Once out of the truck, Joel’s eyes sweep over you, almost as if he’s making sure you’re able to stand on your own, then begins setting up a small camp for the evening, getting out some plates and forks and a can of something with a faded label.

You reach into your bag, fingers brushing over the pack of chicken you grabbed back at the house. “Might as well eat this,” you mutter, pulling it out with a small sigh. “It’s gonna be bad by tomorrow.”

You hear Joel grunt in acknowledgment, and Ellie offers a quiet “Yeah, sounds good,” but neither of them push you to say more. They know. The silence hangs between the three of you, tense and awkward. You can’t stand the idea of them pitying you, but you don’t have it in you to snap back.

You open your bag and start divvying up the chicken. It’s not the best meal, but it’ll keep you moving. Better than whatever 20 year old substance was in that can they were about to open. You glance around the clearing, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest. You’d never been out in the open like this before, nothing outside of Lincoln. Not without your secure gate, tall fences, your alarm system.

“How long are we staying out here?” Ellie asks with her mouth full.

“I figure I sleep tonight,” Joel answers her with a straight tone, no nonsense. “Drive tomorrow all day, all night. Get us to Wyoming by next mornin’.”

“Wyoming?” you ask, mid-chew, not entirely sure you want to hear the answer.

Joel’s eyes flicker to you from where he’s hunched over his food. “Been tryna find my brother—”

“Tommy, right?” you cut in, something in the back of your cobwebbed memories stirring. The name rings familiar, but you’re not sure why.

Joel hesitates, maybe realizing he might’ve said too much in the past when you were just a kid, not realizing how much you’d remember. He looks uncertain about continuing, but after a long moment, he does.

“Tommy joined the Fireflies years ago,” he says, looking down at his plate, “Course, last I heard he left them too. But he might at least know where they are. Last I heard he sent word through the radio from a town outside of Cody, Wyoming. Gotta go get him.”

You pause, your fork halfway to your mouth. So Tommy had been with the Fireflies. That’s the group Joel’s told you about—freedom fighters against FEDRA. You don’t know much beyond that, just enough to make sense of it.

But something about it rubs you the wrong way.

So he’d keep up with the radio for his brother, but not for Bill and Frank. And certainly not for you.

Swallowing hard at the lump of food in your mouth, you do your best to ignore the way the feeling crawls up your throat. It shouldn’t matter. It’s not like you expected anything from him.

Tess and Joel had made it a point to be a part of your life, a part of your dad’s life. And yet, over the years, they’d gone silent. You didn’t know the details, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pry them out of the surly bastard. You were stuck with him now, even though he never showed a care in the world for you, for how you were holding up. Nothing in the past seven years to even ask if any of you were still alive. 

But he’d gotten you out, saved you last night, despite everything. You couldn’t ignore that. So, you supposed you’d have to accept that part of him, even if it didn’t make the rest of him any easier to figure out.

“So, can we start a fire?” Ellie asks, popping a bite of chicken into her mouth.

“Now why am I gonna tell you no?” Joel looks at her, exasperated and terse.

She rolls her eyes, “Cause infected will see the smoke,”

“Infected aren’t that smart,” you mumble, but Joel hears you.

“That’s right.” he nods, still looking at Ellie, “Fungus ain’t that smart. Besides, this is too remote for infected anyway,” he adds, but his eyes still dart around the clearing you’ve gathered in.

Ellie pauses her chewing, “People…?” she says, her eyes widening. Without an answer, she takes it as an assertion, “So what’re they gonna do, rob us?” she asks, almost sarcastically, but there’s an underlying tone of seriousness to her as she waits for his answer.

“Oh they’ll have a lot more in mind than that.” Joel says darkly, “Did you learn nothin’ from what we just faced?”

You swallow the last of the chicken, and the weight of his words presses down on you. Your dad had never really talked about what was out there. He’d always said that what mattered was the land you could protect, the food you could grow. People? That was something your dad never bothered to explain to you—that was the world he kept hidden from you. As much as he hated the world, he never told you about what the world had turned into. Maybe he was just as sheltered from it all. Only things you know were what Joel and Tess had shared, brief words exchanged, more like scary stories that you never took note of, until now.

You look at Joel, his expression harder than usual, and the knot in your stomach tightens. You wonder what he’s seen, what he knows, that makes him sound this way. All you’ve ever known is the small, isolated world of Lincoln–of what you and your dad created.

You wonder if that was the right kind of world to be raised in. You wonder if you're prepared for what's ahead.

Then your eyes land on the sleeping bags they’ve rolled out. Two, that look awfully a lot like the ones your dad and Frank had.

You can’t help it. “Really?” you call out, voice dripping with sarcasm and thankful for a change in subject. “You were just gonna take my stuff, huh? You didn’t think maybe, you know, asking would’ve been a thing?”

Joel glances up, an eyebrow raised, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, like he’s not sure whether you’re joking or pissed.

You shake your head, “No warning, no nothing—just raid my place for sleeping bags and head out, huh? You’re no better than those guys who came for my shit last night,”

Ellie, not missing a beat, looks over at you with a lopsided grin. “Hey, at least we didn’t shoot you for it.”

“Ellie.” Joel reprimands.

After rolling your eyes, you glance at the sleeping bags, and then back at the truck. You should’ve thought to bring one in those last few moments of packing. The idea of sharing one of those with either of them—Joel, especially—makes your stomach churn with anxiety. Besides, it’s warm enough that you don’t necessarily need the extra warmth of the down-stuffed sleeping arrangements.

You shake your head, standing up. “I’ll take the backseat,” you say, a little too loud. You’re not sure if you’re talking to them or just saying it out loud to justify it.

Ellie looks at you, eyebrows raised. “You sure?”

“Better than sharing one of those with either of you,” you mutter, your voice edged with more than a little sarcasm.

You climb into the backseat, using your jacket as a blanket, your leg throbbing under the weight of the day. It’s cramped, but it’s your space, and you can rest without feeling like you’re suffocating in the heat of the sleeping bag.

A few minutes pass, the night stretching longer as the sounds of the woods surround you. The crickets chirp faintly from outside, and for a moment, you feel your body finally beginning to relax, the exhaustion catching up with you.

Then, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You try to ignore it, but then the side door by your feet opens.

Joel’s voice, low and rough, filters through the space. “How’s the leg?”

You sigh, looking over at him from where you lie in the cramped backseat. “It’s fine. Just a little sore.”

Joel grunts in acknowledgment, his shadow falling across the truck as he leans in to look at the wound, “You don’t gotta be stubborn,” he mutters, his tone almost too quiet. “Let me check it.”

You stay still, letting him move closer as his body moves inside the door over the bench of the backseat. You can hear the faint clinking and rustling of things as he pulls items out of his med kit. His presence is steady, not quite intrusive, but close enough that it feels a little too... personal. It’s just him, his hands rough and worn, as he reaches in carefully to check the bandage around your thigh.

The touch is gentle, but his movements are stiff, as though he's trying to be as careful as possible without drawing attention to the fact that his hands are on your bare thigh. You force yourself not to think about it. It's just a wound, just a necessary task.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just focusing on the gunshot, checking to make sure it’s as clean as it can be and that the stitches are holding. His hands are careful, methodical. You try to keep your breath steady, not allowing your mind to wander, but it's hard. He’s the only man you’ve known outside of your family, and this... this proximity is something unfamiliar.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable you are, or maybe he’s trying not to. His attention is entirely on your leg, but you can’t help but wonder if he knows how awkward this all feels. Maybe it’s just you.

You catch yourself thinking about it again and shake the thought away.

“Could be worse,” Joel says, his voice gruff, but there’s something underlying in it. A quiet kind of care, like he’s trying not to make a big deal of it, “Don’t think it’s gon’ get infected,”

You look at him, trying to gauge what’s in his eyes, but the dim light makes it hard to read. His face is shadowed, but you can still make out the familiar furrow in his brow. He’s doing this because he has to, but there’s a softness behind it that you don’t want to acknowledge. It makes the silence feel a little too thick.

You shift uncomfortably, ignoring the flush that creeps up your cheeks, “Uh... thanks,” you mutter, not sure what else to say.

Joel glances up at you, his expression unreadable. There's a flicker in his eyes, like he's debating whether to say something or just move on. Finally, he snorts, breaking the silence. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

You offer a tight smile, trying to brush it off, but you can’t ignore the awkwardness hanging between you. You pull the jacket tighter around you, wishing you could disappear into it. “I won’t. Don’t worry.”

He finishes adjusting the bandage, his hands careful, deliberate. “Alright, that should hold you for now. Don’t do anything stupid and it’ll heal fine."

You nod, still trying to process the weirdness of the moment. He stands up, his boots shifting against the dirt as he hesitates for a second, glancing down at you.

“Get some rest,” Joel adds, his voice softer now, quieter than you’d expect. “We’re gonna need it.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you don’t. Instead, you pull the jacket closer, settling back into the seat. You hear the sound of him walking away, the rustle of them getting comfortable in their sleeping bags crinkling in the distance. You let the quiet settle in again, the warmth of the night and the heavy pull of sleep taking over.

[shadow4-1]

An Impromptu Punk Concert with Ghost

(What if you and Ghost managed to get into a punk concert last minute?)

"No."

"Why not?" You whined at Ghost from the passenger seat.

He chose silence, which you knew he knew annoyed you. You pushed at his arm, barely even jostling the limb splayed comfortably over the truck's center console.

"We've got a job to do." He mumbled, eyes ever diligently on the road.

"Yeah, I know! But it's on the way!" You huffed. "Please! I know they're your favorite band too!"

Ghost flexed his arm in a display of annoyance, and you flopped back into the passenger seat dejected. You sighed and looked out of the window at the passing landscape.

You were in the middle of nowhere, passing through little podunk towns without stopping. You'd forgotten that a certain band was touring and had gleefully squealed after cheking the map of your route. Your trip was already going to take two days minimum. What was a couple hour break?

"How're you plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.

With pure delight, you shot up in your seat and squealed. If Ghost had really meant "no" he wouldn't have brought anything more up about it.

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" You giggled, leaning over the console and his arm. He eyed you with a sideways glance but made no effort to move. "I've always wanted to see them in concert! This is a once in a lifetime chance!"

Ghost scoffed, but his posture was still entirely relaxed. Try as he might to fool you. You knew he was equally as interested in the concert.

"Oh don't pretend like I don't know your little secret." You teased, letting your body flop back into the passenger seat.

He scoffed once again, but you noticed the slight raise of his brow.

"I've seen those raggedy old t-shirts you were to bed sometimes. They're band shirts."

There was a long beat of silence save for the hum of the truck. You narrowed your eyes at your lieutenant, a smirk forming on your lips.

"...yes..." He sighed.

"I knew it!" You giggled and kicked your legs slightly. "This is gonna be so much fun!"

Ghost's usual worried expression became visible in the set of his brow. For what, you weren't sure. He'd seemed relatively relaxed a second ago.

"What's wrong?" You hummed.

He didn't reply. You knew better than that. You frowned.

"Hey, if something's wrong..." You trailed off, showing your concern by placing a hand on his bicep. "We don't have to go. I just figured-"

"We'll go." Ghost nearly snapped. He'd seemed to realize his sudden change in demeanor and decided to walk it back by clearing his throat. His voice was smoother and gentler than before.

"We'll go. Pull up the address."

"Of course." You tapped his arm before pulling away. You flashed him a sweet smile just to let him know you weren't offended.

After a moment of fumbling with your phone, you pulled up the GPS instructions on how to get to the venue. It was actually a bar, but it didn't really matter. You read up on all the information (including the dress code). You giggled some more, knowing it would catch his attention. Sure enough, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey. It says here masks are allowed!" You grinned. "And with how big you are you'll blend right in!"

"Mm..." He hummed.

"Okay, well, the GPS says to take a right turn in about half a kilometer..."

-

The moment you got there, you were nearly kicking open the truck's door. It'd been hours since you'd last stretched your legs. Despite the very uneven gravel parking lot, you groaned in relief as you popped every joint in your body.

"You never answered my question." Ghost murmured, walking around to your side of the truck. He'd pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head.

"What question?" You groaned out, loving the way your back burned from a particularly good stretch.

"How're ya plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.

You stopped stretching for a moment. You glanced up at him with a devilishly bright grin.

"Me?" You laughed. "Oh, girls get in for free. You've gotta figure out you're gonna get in."

Ghost narrowed his eyes at you. "Are you fockin' serious?"

"Mhm!"

You scrambled to get your phone out and unlocked. With a quick flash you showed him the rules of the event. Sure enough it was written out in black and white.

Girls get in for free!

A low growl formed in Ghost's throat. He glared down at you, but he didn't say anything. He looked upwards, breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly. He then looked back down at you.

"Fine." He huffed, turning around and walking towards the building.

"Hey! Wait up!"

It took you a short sprint to catch up with his long-legged stride. You fell in beside him. A warm, zing of excitement swirled around in your chest. The closer you got to the pair of black double doors the more the feeling grew.

Luckily, the line out front was short. They had two bouncers (who were not nearly as large as Ghost) checking the men's tickets. Women were easily bypassing the line, as long as they looked old enough. A woman just beyond the door was haphazardly checking their IDs.

"Here." Ghost grumbled, tugging his hoodie over his head. He threw the garment at you, blinding you for half a second.

When you managed to tug the jacket off of your face, your eyes widened at the uncharacteristic display. Ghost always had on a a jacket, or windbreaker, or long-sleeve. To see him in his soft balaclava, jeans, and a t-shirt felt wrong, too...casual.

You opened your mouth to say something but Ghost had already started walking towards the entrance at a decently fast pace. The appearance of a huge, masked man put everyone on edge. You were pretty sure one of the bouncers went a tad pale.

"Hey man, what are you doing?" The other bouncer asked, bless his heart.

Ghost gave him that look.

"Security." He barked.

And that was that. It seemed none of the bouncers were interested in telling Ghost anything. They simply went back to what they were doing.

You nearly gasped when you forgot you needed to follow him. Thankfully, Ghost'd provided enough of a distraction that you managed to come up behind him and sneak in by his side. You were getting in for free anyway, and it didn't matter if the lady hadn't checked your ID since you weren't going to drink.

The first thing you noticed was that the entire building was stuffy. The difference in the outside temperature versus the inside was intense. You wordlessly offered Ghost back his hoodie but he shook his head. It felt strange getting to see his shorn short blonde hair beneath the dingy lighting. He looked...almost like a different person.

So you didn't lose it, you tied his hoodie around your waist. You had to double knot it to keep the large amount of fabric from falling off your hips. Ghost watched you fuss through half-lidded eyes and made no attempt to help you. You scoffed up at him.

There was no way for him to hear you though. An opening band was already noisily playing on the stage at the back of the building. A decent amount of bodies were already crowded around the pink hued platform. They weren't a very good band in comparison to the lead act, but a few of the notes they hit piqued your interest.

For a moment you watched the stage from where you stood at the back of the venue. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Ghost nervously glancing around. His demeanor was off. You'd never visibly seen him uncomfortable like this.

"You alright?" You asked him, although the sound of your voice was drowned out. Ghost's attention snapped to you immediately but he narrowed his eyes.

"You alright?" You asked him again, voice lough enough to nearly strain. Still, he cocked his head. You huffed with slight frustration before stepping up closer to him. He bent his head down, angling his ear towards your mouth.

"You alright?" You tried even louder. This time he seemingly heard you. He gave you a nod, but you weren't convinced. His eyes were flicking from person to person that milled around the two of you.

"We can go?" You offered.

Ghost shook his head.

He then nudged you towards the bar. You didn't want to go but it was obvious that he needed a drink to withstand the stimulation of the place. You admired his commitment despite the fact he knew this outing would make him uncomfortable from the start.

He ordered two drinks. The bartender looked at you nervously, as if he wanted to card you but seemed to think better of it. Ghost lifted up his mask then swallowed down the first drink in one gulp. He half-heartedly offered you the second one, but when you refused, he downed it too.

You sighed at him but finally took a glance around the place. It was surprisingly nice for being out in the middle of nowhere. The bar went around nearly half of the entire atrium's perimeter. There were a few tables and chairs set up in the back for those wanting to rest their feet. But what really shocked you was the amount of men and women alike dressed in dark clothing.

Girls wore tall platform boots with buckles, latex, and black velvet. The guys wore harnesses and tight shirts with steel toed boots. Countless people donned masks of varying sizes and macabre shapes. The way they looked was eerie...yet beautiful.

You were so caught up in a pretty girl with huge wig and glitter for tears that you didn't realize the actual band was getting set up. Their crew fumbled around on stage, moving equipment and strumming the guitars to tune them. People began to crowd the stage, some squealing with excitement. You crawled up onto an empty barstool and sat in a way that gave you a decent view of the stage. Ghost just stood behind you, leaning up against the bar top.

The headlining band finally came out to a roar of excitement. Girls squealed, men whooped, and people whistled. A large group of guys stomped on the floor which, soon turned into nearly the whole building. The lead singer thanked the crowd for coming out before counting down. They started their first song.

You were so enraptured you almost didn't notice how close Ghost had gotten to you. You felt a warm presence against your back, and when you glanced up you were met with his flighty gaze. You noticed his hand tapping nervously on the bar top. You gestured at him to come closer. He angled his head down again for you to speak.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He nodded.

"I wanna get closer." You pointed a thumb at the crowd.

He didn't move as his eyes swept across the sea of people.

The band started on their second single. It was one of their most popular songs but part of it was extremely loud and a bit grating. The fast paced drums and screaming guitar echoed hard throughout the venue. The main singer began to scream and you could feel yourself grit your teeth. You loved this band but the acoustics were just a little too good here.

It seemed Ghost was feeling a similar sentiment. He tried to covertly cover an ear with a palm but it didn't seem to help. You could tell something was going wrong. The guitars began to chug. The sound of it made Ghost wince hard.

You tapped on Ghost's shoulder to get his attention. He jumped a little but leaned down, angling his uncovered ear to you. You tugged on his arm, shaking your head.

"C'mon, let's go." You huffed. "You're not having fun."

Ghost shook his head no again but you knew better.

The song evened out into something smoother and less grating. Ghost's shoulders seemed to sag in relief.

"Seriously. Let's go."

"No." He shook his head once more, letting his hand fall away from his ear. "Just gotta get used to it."

"No you don't. Ghost let's-"

He pressed a finger to your lips as the best part of the song began. The lead singer burst into a sultry ballad that immediately grabbed your attention. You grabbed onto Ghost's hand, jerking it away from your face, squeezing his fingers tight in your palm. He shuffled closer, his head hanging next to yours as he listened intently with closed eyes.

The song soon ended with a roar of applause. This time Ghost didn't seem as uncomfortable with the volume. You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ghost-"

"'M fine."

Another song started. You looked up at Ghost with concern. He looked away, trying to listen. The drums kicked in and the guitars soon after. The singer began to growl about his worship to his lover.

When you looked up at Ghost again he was staring down intensely at you. You quirked a brow but he didn't say anything. He tugged on your palm that was surprisingly still in his. You jumped off the barstool and began to follow him.

Instead of walking you to the doors he lead you deeper into the crowd of people. A fourth song began to be played. The song was softer than the rest. Once again it was about devotion but also the hunger the lead singer experienced for his lover. The guitars began to chug again. Ghost grimaced but he gestured for you to come closer. He moved your body to stand in front of him. He placed his hands squarely on your hips.

"Ghost-"

Before you could even process what he wanted, he scooped you up onto his shoulders. You gasped in shock as you were hoisted up on top of him. It took a moment of your body squirming to find your new center of balance but eventually you righted yourself. You huffed, finally getting a good look over the crowd of people. You got a view that no one else in the venue could ever get.

In stunning clarity you could see all of the band members. Their instruments glittered in the low lighting. The sight of the lead singer's mask and rings made you swallow hard. You gripped tight onto Ghost's shorn short hair. The music seemed to swell in time with your heartbeat. Obviously uncomfortable earlier, Ghost seemed to have relaxed some. You wondered why for a moment then realized how tight your thighs were clamped around the sides of his head...

The bastard was using you as ear muffs!

You almost slapped the top of Ghost's head but the last chorus of the latest song began. The lead singer growled and huffed, squirming his body in a way that had women in the crowd squealing. Just when you were thinking about how childish that was the lead singer seemed to notice you thanks to your extra height.

He shook his hand out in your direction, grasping at the air as he sang his words of devotion. He rocked back and forwards, eyes locked on yours. Some people took notice and gasped. Girls beneath you glared at you with envy. Men's eyes around you sparkled with mischief. Hoots and whistles added to the lead singer's hungry tone.

Just as you began to feel deeply uncomfortable from the attention, Ghost pulled you off of him. You squealed as you fell over a yard towards the sticky floor. He caught you mid air, cradling you. There were a few laughs and jeers thrown your way but the crowd turned back to the stage. Ghost let you down at the way. Your legs shook a little from the adrenaline and also having been pressed hard around his head.

Ghost seemed even more uncomfortable than earlier. He rubbed at his ears through his mask. He looked around at the crowd with a frustration you couldn't identify. You tugged on his hand, forcing him to lean down to listen.

"We're leaving."

He didn't shake his head or protest this time. Instead, he dutifully followed you to the double doors. You walked outside and the two of you were greeted with cooler, quieter air. The people straggling in gave the two of you odd looks as you walked past them hand in hand.

Ghost didn't let go of your hand until you got to the truck. He opened your door and helped you up. He then got into the driver's seat himself. He didn't move to turn on the vehicle though. The two of you just sat there in the quiet, ears still buzzing. While you couldn't hear the music anymore, you could still feel some of its vibrations even at the end of the parking lot.

"You okay?" You asked, this time at a normal volume. "Better now?"

Ghost nodded, leaning back against the headrest. He huffed out a breath it seemed he'd been holding for the longest time. His eyes rolled softly in his head. You felt kind of bad. You didn't realize that maybe a concert wasn't the best idea for him. You'd only been thinking about your own enjoyment.

"I'm sorry, ya know..." You sighed. "We shouldn't hav-"

"Not your fault." He breathed, cutting you off. With that he cocked his head, looking down at you through his mask. His eyes had that half-lidded look you were starting to get used to.

"Had fun, actually."

(A/N: I might make a second, spicier chapter. We'll see how I feel. But trust me when I say this has been in my WIPs for months! The band being alluded to is of course, Sleep Token. But you could honestly imagine any punk band in their place. Also, spot the Chappell Roan reference lol.)

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The reason? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Reader wore a dress (past), cursing, mentions and eating of food, reader is called a cow if that’s a warning, both characters being horrible to each other, fighting, mentioned HYDRA themes.

[Series Masterlist] <- Haven’t seen pt. 1?

𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

Day Three

As you hauled your stuff into the truck once again, you couldn’t help but yawn. You were tired, and maybe still hungry even after raiding the hotel breakfast bar. 

Bucky took the driver’s seat, and you were too exhausted to argue. Your feet still hurt from the night before, all that dancing in those heels. 

Glancing at the man beside you, he didn’t seem to feel the same. 

You put on your playlist, blasting obnoxious pop music. You liked those songs, but you liked messing with Bucky more. 

The two of you stopped at a drive-thru for lunch.

Making the best choice for yourself, you decided to squeeze in a nap before you guys would stop for dinner. Leaning against the window, you closed your eyes and prepared for sleep.

When it finally came, it was a peaceful, uninterrupted darkness that allowed you some rest. 

Until you were nudged awake. You glared daggers at the perpetrator—the monster who woke you. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” You grumbled, rubbing your eyes. 

“You snore like a cow with a deviated septum.” He grumbled. 

“You’re such a fucking dick.” You retorted. “I bet you snore, too.”

“No, I don’t.” He answered back, brushing you off as if you had just said that grass was blue. 

“Yeah, you probably do.” You had no idea, but you were too deep to stop now.

“Okay.” He huffed, shaking his head. 

“Asshole.” You grumbled. 

More minutes passed by. Minutes turned into an hour. And after an hour, you were both bickering over the radio.

”You’ve been playing the same shit for the last two days. There has to be something else.” He said, his tone pointed and his eyes widened.

“Yeah, to drown out your loud ass breathing!” You shouted back.

“You wanna talk about my breathing? Really? After sounding like a broken vacuum for two hours?” He turned his head to stare at you.

“Watch the fucking road, you piece of shit!” You shrieked as he swerved.

“What? Does that scare you? Does that fucking scare you?” He barked back, but he turned his head back toward the road. His right hand’s knuckles had turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had ripped it off, either on accident or on purpose. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out. “Are you crazy? Are you insane? Is that what HYDRA did? They made you fucking crazy?” It was like watching yourself from outside your body. You would’ve never said that. Never. Personal attacks were not your style. But something about him—or maybe something about the two of you together—made you act in ways you sometimes couldn’t control.

“Don’t you fucking say that! Don’t you ever fucking say that! You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” He slammed on the breaks, pulling off to the little gravel section on the side of the road. You were in the middle of nowhere—surrounded by trees on a mountain.

When he slammed on the breaks, your body hurled forward, your arm slamming into the dashboard. “Fuck!” You groaned, clutching your arm. Your phone slipped from your lap and clattered to the truck floor. “You fucking suck!”

“And you’re a stuck-up bitch!” He shouted back.

“I wish Steve never saved your sorry ass, I wish I’d never ever met you.” You growled, clenched fists trembling with rage.

“You really are the worst thing that ever happened to me. I mean that.” When he uttered the words, his teeth were bared. Like a dog, you thought. HYDRA’s bitch in all his fucking glory.

“Really? Seventy years of shit and it’s me? I’m the worst thing?” You were losing your mind. “Glad to know being even near me is worse than torture! Glad you’re sharing your experiences, Bucky.”

“And how would you know? What, like you’re my goddamn best friend or some shit? You’re fucking not. We aren’t even friends!” He roared the words in the loudest volume you’d ever heard from him.

Of course you knew that you weren’t friends. Obviously. But you didn’t need the bitchy Bucky Barnes to remind you. Seething, you decided that you were done with this shit, and you didn’t care what Nat or Tony had to say about it.

“No fucking shit! Thank you so much, Sherlock Holmes! And for once, you’re actually right! I’m not your friend! Thank you for making that clear for me. In fact, I’m so grateful that I’ll give you what you've wanted since the beginning, you bitch!” You unbuckle your seatbelt, before pressing the ‘unlock’ button.

Hopping out of the truck, Bucky began to copy you. “You can’t leave!” He said, and his tone sounded like he was accusing you of something. You responded by sticking both middle fingers up near your chest.

“Watch me!” You slammed the door shut before turning and stalking off bitterly.

You made it maybe fifteen quick steps away before you heard Bucky’s door slam shut. His shoes made noise against the road. Before he could say anything, you whirled around to face him. He stopped, five feet away from you. He opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

"Have you ever considered that maybe it's you? Everyone keeps leaving you and you keep acting surprised. It's because you push them away, Bucky! You push them away!" Your voice becomes shrill at the end of your statement.

He flinches at the mention of Steve. "You don't understand." Bucky called out.

"Then explain it to me then, Bucky. Explain it!" It was more of a begging shout than an angry one. "What, are you worried that he'll leave you or some shit? Cause he's not! I followed him halfway across the world for you!"

"He's the only person who's left! He's all I've got left, the last good thing I have!"

"Probably because you refuse to do anything but glare at everybody else! So you can go ahead and be by yourself! Serves you right!" You spin around, beginning to walk down the road again again. You're too angry to check if he's still following you.

You find out once you feel a hand on your shoulder. Filled with rage, you spin around and punch him right in the face. You regret it immediately as you feel the stinging pain in your fist.

He lets out a loud 'fuck!' as he clutches his jaw. His brows furrow and he looks up at you, eyes wide and furious. You knew in that moment that you’d fucked up. Without warning, you turn and race down the road, knowing that he was right behind you. Shit, shit, shit, you repeated in your head.

You trip over a pothole, pausing. Bucky, however, clearly wasn’t paying attention as he rammed into you. You let out a shriek, tripping and falling down right at the precipice of the hill. And then you were rolling. Rolling through leaves, and mud, and sticks as you both swatted and kicked at each other. Then you rolled through a small creek, and you let out a yowl as you felt your clothes get wet, writhing even more as gravity pulled you down.

When it was over, you both laid there for a moment. Bucky had landed on top of you, and you struggled to breathe. Shoving him off of you, you stared up into the starry sky. Something about it made you want to take back what you'd thought about the value of this trip. At least the sky was pretty.

You got up at the same time he did. The two of you looked at each other, tense. You weren't sure if he was still pissed about the whole punching-him-thing. But God, the fall hurt. Your head hurt. Your back hurt. As did your legs and arms and face and literally almost every part of you.

"Fuck you, Barnes." Was all you said, before you began walking forward. Tumbling just far enough that you were basically in the forest, you could still see the hill you fell from. You were insanely dizzy, but the pain in your body and the wetness of your clothes grounded you. You didn’t know where to go, but you knew you couldn’t stand to look at his face anymore. You picked a direction and began to walk. Bucky did not follow.

It was hard to tell how far you’d gone. The darkness, coupled by the fact that all of these trees seemed to look the same, was not helpful towards your already-poor sense of direction.

After a while, you sat down against a tree. Attempting to reach for your phone, you let out a pathetic groan as you realize it was sitting probably under your seat back in the truck.

So you truly were fucked at the moment.

The sky was beautiful. It was the kind of dark, starry sky that had splashes of blue in it. It was like someone had water colored it. You knew you weren't going to die in the woods. You're an Avenger, damn it.

The sound of sticks breaking tore you from your thoughts. You believed it was a wild animal, at first. But even with the darkness, you could tell who it was. Bucky Barnes, the one hundred and six year-old Super Soldier.

"Don't act like you're not happy to see me like this." You called out as he stepped closer.

He was close enough that you could see his face. He looked...almost remorseful.

"Don't look at me like you're sorry. You're not sorry." You groaned out.

He said nothing, but you could tell he disagreed. He stood beside you, and he was quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry. For punching you.” You say quietly. “I don’t regret what I said, though. It’s true. They all..we all want to help you. But we can’t because—“

“I know.” He cuts you off, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry too.” He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I don’t…know why I am the way I am. But I don’t wanna be like that. Like this. Not forever.”

When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “Sometimes I think that this is it and I can’t do anything about it. That this is how it goes. That I lived through…it all, just to be fucked over from it forever.” He fiddled with his hands, looking down. “And I don’t…want it to be that way. So I guess I’m saying I’ll try to do better.”

Your head bobbed up and down shakily. “Yeah. And..I’m sorry about bringing that up. That was…shit, that was awful. I’m sorry.”

He nodded too, still not looking up at you. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“About..about me being HYDRA’s bitch. Did you mean that?” He looked up and you could see his expression and it burned in your stomach. It was hard to describe—a boyish suffering; like that of a kicked puppy.

“I…what?” Holy shit. Had you said that under your breath on accident? Now you felt truly guilty. “No. God, no. Oh my God. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, looking back down and watching as he fiddled more with his hands.

“Do you have any idea where the truck is?” You ask after an awkward silence. He responded by pointing behind him. Great, you thought. You’d been walking the wrong way the whole time.

“The serum made my eyesight better. I can kind of see in the dark.” He explained.

You nodded, sighing. “There’s some towels in the back of the truck. We can put them on the seats. To help with all the…mud.” You gestured between the two of you.

You both made the trek back up the hill to the road, and then began to make your way to the eerily silent truck.

You laid down the towels, and then Bucky put the keys in the truck. He twisted them, and nothing happened. His brows furrowed. He tried again.

Silence.

“When we got out of the car,” he began, voice measured. “Nobody turned it off.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Please. Please tell me you’re joking.” You pressed your fist to your forehead.

“The battery must be dead.” He said, staring blankly ahead through the windshield.

You dug under the seat, finding your phone. “I’ll call for a tow truck, or whoever the fuck I’m meant to call.” You groaned.

The two of you stood awkwardly shivering in the cold as you waited for your savior in overalls.

A/N: Hoping that the tag list works well this time! I was previously having trouble with some usernames not being tagged, but that seems to be resolved! (hopefully)

I cannot promise a schedule, but I do want to finish this series this year! Hope everybody had some happy holidays and a wonderful new year!

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @kandis-mom @laughterafter @cjand10 @emmsybucky @mrsnotfeelingsogood @matchat3a @identity2212 @ilovemcuff @unaxv @mysticalfuncollectorus @highwaytomichelle @lilbloggs @ordelixx @skiemi-blog @allieb913 @winterslove1917 @chimchoom @moonlight-readings @unearthlydreams @emizlav

graphics by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

If you enjoyed, please reblog!

[casuallyobssessed]

Loose Ends - Donnie Barksdale x Fem!Reader ❥ 4.7k Words

A/N: Hoo boy. I got inspired to write this from a post I saw on here a while back. Other than that, idk why I wrote it. I keep putting Mr Barksdale here in evil situations and I won't apologize for it. PART TWO LINK

Warnings: domestic violence, non-con, P in V sex, major character death, blood and violence, no use of y/n, no beta, no happy ending

Do not read past the divider within the story if you're uncomfortable with graphic descriptions of violence and death.

Archive of Our Own Link

“Get out.”

Donnie leans across you and opens your door before giving your shoulder a hard shove. 

“Out!” He barks at you.

You shoot him a glare, but you know if you don't comply, it'd probably end with you unconscious on the side of the road instead of awake with a bruised ego. You begrudgingly follow his command and climb out of his truck, naked and vulnerable. 

As soon as your bare feet hit the dirt road, Donnie’s slamming on the gas and roaring away from you, throwing up a cloud of dust behind him. You contemplate running after him, but you know you could never catch up. 

Instead, you start walking the opposite direction, back towards the way you drove in. You're glad it's warm out tonight. Even though you try your best to cover yourself up with your hands to save some part of your dignity, it's pointless. This time of night, in these parts of the woods, there's no one around to see you anyway. At least, no one human. 

Bathed in the thick, silent darkness, you're keenly aware of all the living noises around you: from the cicadas and crickets performing their respective symphonies, to a distant owl begging the question of ‘who?’ 

A couple of branches break in the trees to your left and you pick up your pace, moving more briskly in hopes of making it out of the woods by sun up. You know that it's impossible, but you can try anyway. 

Maybe it would be better to die out here than go back to living with Donnie. Deciphering his moods and tiptoeing around him in your own home were skills you learned early on, but over time, you got too comfortable with him on his good days. He lulls you into a false sense of safety and comfort, and then one day you're fucking in his truck when he forces you out and abandons you in the middle of the woods because you didn't want to “take it up the ass like the whore you are.” 

He's done worse, you suppose, as you absentmindedly rub your hand across the healing scar on your cheekbone. The bruises always fade, but he likes to leave behind small, more permanent reminders that keep you pliant and obedient most days. You don't know why you keep putting up with how he treats you, but you know there's something inherently comforting in the chaos of the storm surrounding Donnie that makes it hard to leave. 

After a while, your legs start to cramp and you feel like you're getting nowhere. Time doesn't feel real anymore. Has it been minutes? Hours? You're not quite convinced that it hasn't already been days. One wrong step and your knees buckle, sending you collapsing into the dirt. Tired and frustrated, you stay kneeled, ignoring the rocks digging into your bare skin.

You're teetering on the edge of breaking down when you hear the deep rumbling of a truck further up the road. A pair of headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating you in the middle of the road like a beacon of naive hope.

Within no time, Donnie's Chevy is barreling down the road towards you. You swear he's going to hit you, and you're fully prepared to let him, but then he brakes at the last second, stopping mere inches away from you. Like the literal deer in headlights that you are, you stiffen completely. 

You can't decide whether you want to laugh or cry when you hear the truck door open and his boots hit the ground. There's no time to prepare yourself before he's got two hands under your arms, picking you up out of the dirt and turning you around to press you against his chest. Cautiously, you wrap your arms around him.

“I didn't think you were coming back,” You sniffle as you hold him tighter, scared that if you let go, he might change his mind. 

“‘Course I was. You know I wouldn't leave you out here all by yourself, Darlin’. It ain't safe in these woods at night for a pretty thing like you,” His voice is as sweet as molasses while he strokes your hair, and that warm, safe feeling starts blooming inside you again. 

Something more sinister starts to shroud that warmth as he pulls away from you and you get a glimpse of his eyes. Normally they're filled with fire or rage, now they're boring into you with a betrayed sense of disappointment. Guilt and shame go hand in hand as they wash over you, sending a wave of tears to well up in your eyes. 

“Do you think you've learned your lesson, sweet thing?” Donnie tucks a finger under your chin and gently forces you to keep looking up at him. 

You know, deep down, that saying no to him was stupid. Pitching a fit because you couldn't get your way? No wonder he left you out here. You lightly nod your head at him, truly believing what you had done was wrong.

“Alright. Show me,” Donnie grabs your hand and heads towards the passenger door. You follow behind him warily. 

“What?” 

He opens the door and points to the seat, “Bend over.”

You snatch your hand away from him like he burned you. There's a heavy silence as he stares you down, daring you not to comply. You feel sick. It's not even about sex at this point. It's about the control he has over you and you know it.

“Donnie, look, I’m sorry, but-”

“That don't look like you bendin’ over to me.”

“I don't want to,” You cross your arms and take a deep breath, bracing for the fallout. 

“Well, I didn't ask if you fuckin’ wanted to, did I, Darlin’?” 

And just like that, Donnie is on you in an instant, pushing you towards the open door with one hand and shoving your upper body down onto the seat with the other. The zipper of his jeans scrapes against your skin as he presses his clothed erection against your ass, grinding himself into you as you fight back. 

This wouldn't be the first time Donnie has taken what he wanted from you, and you know it's probably far from the last. Normally, you're really good at grinning and bearing it, but you just don't have the energy for it anymore. You go limp against the cushion of the seat while you stare at your crumpled pile of clothes still in the floorboard, mentally preparing yourself for the impending conquest of your body. 

His hands slowly roam across your hips, but it's not loving or kind. It reminds you of how much care Donnie would put into delicately sponge-washing his truck before he’d come inside and knock you around with the same hands, not worried about leaving dents. 

He possessively gropes every inch of you that he can reach, ending his exploration of your body by tenderly kissing up your spine and then biting into the bottom of your neck as hard as he can. Pain shoots through your shoulder and down your arm. You want to scream, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction. He gets off on your pain and you refuse to give him anything. 

You're sure he's broken skin by the way it stings when he licks over the wound a few times, as if he's trying to get a rise out of you. 

“C’mon, Darlin’, I just wanna play with you some. That ain't wrong, is it? It's hard bein’ around you like this and not takin’ any action, y'know,” Donnie tries to spur you on and is met with silence.

“You ain't mad at me for leavin’ you out here, are you? I can make it up to you.”

You blink away tears as he leans back off of you, only to move his attention lower. Gripping the space between your ass and thighs with both hands, he spreads you open, presumably enjoying the view with a low whistle. 

“I'll never get tired of seein’ you all pretty and wet for me.”

You shudder thinking about how your body doesn't seem to get the memo that you don't actually want this. No matter how badly you want it to stop, you know you can't help the way your cunt prepares itself for him the moment he starts getting pushy with you. It has to be some kind of pavlovian response, you think. 

Keeping you spread open, he dips the tip of his thumb inside of you experimentally. When you don't respond, he pushes in deeper, seeing how far you'll let him go before you give him what he wants. 

“You seem real excited for someone who don't want want me to fuck ‘em,” His voice is deep and dangerous as he pulls his thumb out and slides it down to your little bundle of nerves. Slick and sensitive, your clit betrays you as he brushes over it relentlessly. 

“How ‘bout this? I'll make a deal with you,” Donnie continues his assault on your clit, making it impossible to concentrate on what he's saying to you, “You tell me to stop and we'll go home, yeah? If you don't want this, all you gotta do is say so.”

You know he's lying. You know better than to trust his word on something like this, but what's the harm in trying? Weakly, you shake your head no and try to crawl forward, further into the seat. 

“Use your words, Darlin’,” He warns as he uses one hand to pull you back towards him by your hip.

“Donnie, please sto-,” The moment his name escapes your lips, his mouth is on your clit mercilessly, “Oh, fuck.” 

Jolts of pleasure make your legs twitch as you bite your lip, suppressing a moan. You don't want him to know how good he's making you feel, but you're sure he can come to that conclusion on his own with how dripping wet you are. 

Trembling, clutching the seat, and whimpering his name is how you find yourself coming undone for him. Ashamed can't even begin to describe the feeling coursing through your veins as you hear him unzip his jeans. You know what comes next, whether you want it or not.

Looking up from the seat, you can see the key still in the ignition. All you have to do is get into the driver's seat and you could drive off. It seems simple enough. 

Except for the fact that he's got one hand firmly gripping your hip while he's shoving his pants down, almost like he could read your mind. You consider ragdolling again, maybe it'd get things over quicker and you really could just go home. 

The promise of home is enough to calm you down and relax for a moment. It's only a temporary fix before Donnie is grabbing your thigh, manhandling you onto your back, and pulling you far enough off the seat to line himself up with your entrance with ease. 

Out of instinct, you grab his forearm and dig your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand off your inner thigh. You instantly regret it when you look up to see the wicked grin plastered across his face. 

“You wanna finally play rough with me?” He laughs darkly as he pins your wrists above your head with one of his huge hands.

“No. Stop! I don't want to do this. I don’t…” Your voice trails off as you realize he's not listening. 

His eyes shine with a lust you've never seen before, and honestly, it scares you. Donnie has said and done a lot to you since you've been with him, but this is completely different. The usually soft brown in his eyes looks almost black from this angle. It's unsettling, and it's more than enough reason for you to start fighting him again. 

With a growl, he's shoving himself all the way inside of you and it makes you squeal. Donnie knows he's big enough to hurt you if he doesn't go slow at first. Even when he's drunk, he usually takes his time with you. 

“It hurts… it hurts, it hurts!” You whimper.

The pain of him thrusting in and out makes you writhe against him, eliciting an appreciative moan from him and an unhappy whine from you. No matter how hard you try to wiggle out of his grip, it proves fruitless.

Donnie pauses mid-thrust, considers your struggle for a moment, and then speaks, “You want me to let go of you?” 

“Obviously.”

“You gonna try to hurt me if I do?”

“...no?” You're not sure what answer he's looking for here. 

“Go on,” Donnie releases you and leans back, “Take a swing at me, Darlin’. I know you want to.” 

As badly as you want to knock him into next year, you still hesitate. You're not sure what game he's playing at, but you don't know if you want to participate. You keep your hands above your head until Donnie grabs one and hits himself in the chest with it. 

“Come on! Fuckin’ hit me.” 

Suddenly, now that he's begging you for it, maybe it's not a bad idea after all. So, you hit him, square in the chest. It's a weak hit and it makes him laugh. 

“Everything I done put you through and that's all you can do?” 

You frown. He wants you to hit him? Fine. Balling your fist up and propping yourself up with one arm, you deck him as hard as you can in the jaw. You recoil from the sensation, your knuckles aching. To your surprise, he doesn't say anything, so you keep going. 

You hit him in the chest again. Over and over and over, blow after blow, until your arms start to feel weak. He still doesn't react to you, and it makes you even angrier. 

“You know what, Donnie? Fuck you! Fuck you. Get off of me!” You scream, shoving and bucking against him as he moves to hold you down again. 

“That’s my girl! Now you got the idea,” He says cheerfully. 

When his hands migrate from pinning your shoulders down to wrapping around your throat, it happens in an instant. You claw at his forearms, his wrists, and his hands. Prying at his fingers did nothing but make him squeeze harder. Sobs catch in your throat with nowhere to go but back down into your chest. 

Your breathing quickens as he lets some pressure off of your windpipe for a brief second, allowing a few deep breaths in before he's pushing down again. A deep burning settles in your lungs and your vision starts to get fuzzy around the edges when Donnie decides to start thrusting into you again. 

A pleading cacophony of whimpers and groans somehow make their way out of your mouth. The wild look in his eyes tells you that he knows exactly what you're trying to say, and he doesn't care. 

It amazes you that the man who used to be your reason for breathing could be so obsessed with taking that privilege away from you. 

For your last few moments of consciousness, you feel tears running down the sides of your face as he uses your body. Your arms feel limp and it's hard to keep your eyes open. The last thing you see is Donnie hovering above you, eyes trained on yours, like he's waiting for the moment your world goes black. And then, it does.

When you come to, your arms are suspended, tied up in thick, scratchy rope that's hanging over a sturdy branch above your head. You’re on your tiptoes in the leaves, unable to put your feet flat on the ground without seriously straining against your shoulders. 

It's hard to focus on anything other than how sore your throat feels and the aching between your legs. Your whole body feels like you've been shoved through a wood chipper and glued back together. After a few shaky, grounding breaths, you're still on the verge of losing what's left of your sanity. 

Before you start really panicking, you take a moment to look around. He must have dragged you deeper into the woods because you're no longer near the dirt road that you started out on. 

Contrary to the skinny trees surrounding you, the tree you're attached to is huge. Because of the lack of light, you can't see just how tall and wide it truly is, but it definitely doesn't look like it belongs here. 

“You finally awake?” 

Donnie’s voice comes from behind you, making you jump. You can't find enough purchase on the ground with your toes slipping on the leaves to turn yourself around to face him, so you stay put and silent. 

His boots crunch on twigs and dead leaves as he circles around you like a shark out for blood, pocket knife glinting in his hand. It dawns on you that you are the prey, limp and at his mercy. 

“You know, I shot my first deer right where you're standin’. My Pa dropped me off out here with a twelve gauge and told me not to come home ‘til I killed somethin’,” He squints his eyes, “Got a lucky shot on a doe. Knocked her on her ass, but she was still kickin’, tryna get up. She had this crazy look in her eyes, like she was beggin’ me to finish her off. Bein’ a kid, I didn't have the sense to just put her outta her misery…

“I watched her bleed out right there. Took me forever to drag her back to the trailer by myself,” He chuckles, like he's fondly recalling the memory, “Pa wasn't too happy that I killed a doe and he tore my ass up, but we ate good on that for a while.”

His openness throws you for a loop. Donnie never talked to you about his childhood, save for a few very rare instances when he was blackout drunk. You knew he was abused, but to the exact extent, he never told you. As much as you want to accept this as a simple trip down memory lane, your brain is sounding off alarm bells. 

“I didn't want to do this to you. I just feel like you ain't gonna learn any other way,” Donnie sighs, fiddling with his blade as he avoids your gaze.

“I’m sorry. I’ll listen, Donnie. I can do better, I promise. Let me down, okay? I can- Just give me another chance,” Your tears flow as you beg for his forgiveness and try your best not to hyperventilate.

Donnie scoffs at you, closes up his knife, and shoves it in his pocket. He puts one hand on his hip and uses the other to rub his chin inquisitively. 

“See, I just don't believe you,” He sighs exasperatedly and points at you, “You fucked up and now you wanna give me all these crocodile tears. Actin’ like you're sorry but you couldn't even do one little thing for me. And then, you get pissed off at me for takin’ what's mine anyway.”

An unstoppable panic rises within you like roaring floodwaters and you are certain you're about to drown in it. You choose not to say anything. If you speak now, you aren't sure your voice would even cooperate. It turns out that was exactly what he was looking for. 

“Can't even deny it, huh? Fine. I’ma leave your sorry ass out here ‘til you can figure out how to behave,” Donnie says nonchalantly.

“Please, Donnie, don't leave me again!” You beg, frantically, trying your hardest to reason with him, “I'm scared. Donnie! Please!” 

You kick your legs back and forth, twisting from side to side as the rope sways from the momentum. The rope cuts into your wrists with a heated bite that’s enough to distract you from the growing tension in your shoulder blades. 

“I'll come back when I think you've learned your lesson,” Donnie enthusiastically pats your ass before retreating back to his truck.

Your heart sinks into your stomach as he slams the door and starts the engine. His taillights weaving through the trees don't take long to disappear before leaving you in total darkness again. You try pulling at the rope again, but it doesn't budge. A sigh escapes you as you close your eyes and try to make peace with the situation you're in. 

You think about home. If this was any other night, you would've taken a warm bath and would have been sitting in bed reading by now. You wonder if you'll ever get to finish that cheesy romance novel on your bedside table. It's one of those books where the husband is having an affair, and then a handsome stranger comes in to swoop the wife away and they live happily ever after. 

It used to be that you'd imagine Donnie as that heroic handsome stranger, but more recently, he's been starring as the villain in your story. Hope was an idea that you clung to for years, until reality started eating away at you. 

Now, you're despairingly alone, dangling by a rope in the woods like a piece of meat. You’re exhausted, mentally and physically. There's no telling how long he's going to leave you out here, so you decide you might as well try to get some sleep. 

-

Sleep comes easy, but you're woken up by headlights piercing through the darkness accompanied by the rumbling of Donnie's truck. He parks the truck, leaving it running with the headlights aimed at you, putting your body on display and leaving you feeling utterly exposed. 

Neither of you speak as he hops out and makes his way, lumbering over to you. Your fingers twitch against the rope as he pushes himself into your personal space, analyzing you silently. You hate the feeling of being scrutinized so closely, so you pull away from him as far as you can.

“I did some thinkin’,” He opens his mouth and you're hit with the stench of alcohol lacing his breath, “and I think you ain't worth tryna fix. I could have any woman in this town wrapped around my dick and they'd thank me for it. So why should I waste my time on some bitch that acts like she's too good for me?” 

The whole time he's speaking, he's got his hands resting on your hips, pulling you back in towards him. His words cut you to the quick, but you don't have any tears left to cry for him. The person you were a few hours ago would have done anything to change his mind. The person you are now just wants to get out of this alive. 

"Bet you won't be so high and mighty once you're all cut up, will ya?" 

In one smooth motion, he's pulling his knife out of his pocket and opening it up. With a quick thrust, his knife is buried to the hilt in your thigh. The scream that escapes your throat doesn't sound human. Pain creeps up your thigh, overloading your senses and making you shake. Your chest feels like it's collapsing in on itself and you can't remember how to take a deep breath. He lets go of the knife to cup your face, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your teary eyes. 

“Shh, hey. It's okay, see? I left it there. You ain't bleedin’ bad or nothin’, yet,” Donnie tries, and fails, to comfort you. 

With him directly in front of you, it gives you the perfect opportunity to spit right in his face. So you do. You wonder if you should've held back when he grabs your hair and yanks your head back to an uncomfortable angle. 

“You just don't know when to quit, do you?” He growls.

Donnie wipes your spit off of his face with two fingers and then shoves them in your mouth. He pries your jaw open and returns the favor, spitting directly onto your tongue. The sensation makes you gag, but he forces your mouth shut and holds it closed. 

“Swallow it.” 

“Mmph!” Indignantly, you stare him down and shake your head as much as his grip allows you to.

“Swallow. It.” Donnie growls into your ear.

When you blink at him and make no indication of following his orders, it must push him over the edge because that's the moment he finally snaps. He lets go of your jaw only to rip the knife from your thigh.

This time, he doesn't hesitate to plunge the knife directly into that aching chasm in your chest. You gasp, but only briefly, before your blood starts to flood your airway, causing you to spasm and choke. 

There's no burst of energy for you to panic with, no sudden strength to overpower him. It just… hurts.

Your blood pours out of your body, coating his knife, making it too slick for him to handle. When he goes in for another stab, his hand slides down the handle onto the blade and he slices his palm on it. 

“Goddamn it!” He curses.

He wipes the blood from his palm onto your stomach, and lets go of your hair. With a deep, frustrated breath, he reaches above you and saws his knife against the rope holding you until it snaps. You hit the ground with a thud, landing on your back. 

Donnie towers over you while you choke. You try to call his name or plead for help, but nothing comes out except for a mouthful of blood. With a chuckle, he rests his boot on your stomach and from this angle you finally notice the tenting in his pants. 

“You look good like this,” He says as he digs his boot deeper into your stomach.

You want to laugh at how ridiculous you feel for allowing this to happen. Everybody told you it would end up this way. You knew how this would play out and you took your chances anyway.

Coldness finally starts to overtake your body as Donnie takes a step back from you. Time seems to crawl on, each breath shallower than the last. You've always heard that your life would flash before your eyes before you die, but the only thing you can see are bits and pieces of your life with Donnie. Every mistake you've made up until this point becomes glaringly obvious: agreeing to that first date, ignoring every red flag in favor of seeing the best in him, forgiving him for the first time he hit you, every fight that ended in you bloody and apologetic… It all guided you here. 

At least you don't have to do this alone, you tell yourself as you feel Donnie kneel between your legs, spreading them open wide enough for him to slip himself inside of you one final time. 

You know he's fucking you, but you can't feel it anymore. Thankfully, you're comfortably numb. It's almost peaceful. The fire in your heart is long gone as he takes everything from you, right up until your last breath sighs from your chest. 

Slowly, as your blood mixes with the dirt, your consciousness flows out with it. There's something poetic about returning to nature, becoming one with the Earth… 

But, unfortunately for you, this won't be where you get to finally rest in peace. 

Of course, you don't know it, but Donnie is going to load your body up in his truck and drive you back home. He's going to keep you under the bed for a couple days until he can decide where to put you. 

In the meantime, he's going to drown his sorrows in alcohol and hopes it helps to wash away the guilt that tastes like acid in the back of his throat. He's going to bring home some sweet, young thing from the bar, and fuck her in your bed. 

As he basks in the afterglow of his latest conquest, he's not going to notice her searching for her clothes on the floor and accidentally knocking her hand against yours underneath the bed. 

When she screams, he won't ask what happened because he already knows.

[littlemissstel]

Pit Stop - Shiu Kong

On your way to the mechanics your car breaks down and who better to call then your handler?

SFW, no use of (Y/n), name used is "Doll", not proofread, pre-relationship

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You were feeling good about yourself when you woke up this morning. For some reason your body decided to wake up at 6 am yet you have never felt more rested in your life. You had no jobs today- you didn't need to work for the next year if you wanted to with how much your last hit paid and you finally tried that viral french toast recipe that had been sitting in your "favourites" folder for the last 6 months.

You felt good.

And in your productive haze you had decided that you felt good enough to finally go to the mechanics and fix the irritating engine warning light that had been incessantly pestering you for as long as you had the car...Now especially since another light had just come on.

It was almost time to be re-serviced anyway, so what could go wrong?

"no...no, no, no, no- please no"

You were begging your car as it spluttered back. If it could talk you had no doubt it would be swearing at you right now.

The car moved sluggishly as you pulled over, it wasn't a busy road surrounded by nothing but bushes, trees and discarded litter; and you couldn't help but feel a wave of embarrassment as you came to a stop. Turns out the blinking light wasn't just for show.

"fuuucckkkk"

So what do you do now? You had no one to call...well you should probably start with a breakdown service but then what would you do? Even with your hoard of money you'd rather not pay their prices and, if needed, there's no way a tow truck could fit down these roads.

Going down your list of contacts one caught your eye. Shiu.

He seemed the obvious choice, no? The man drove cars for a living if you take out the other details and you're sure he liked you enough to come get you. Maybe you could persuade him by taking him to get those steamed rice rolls he enjoyed the last time you grabbed lunch together.

The debate in your head could go on forever but, either way, he was your only choice. And so you called, the phone ringing for only a second before he picked up.

"Hello?" his gruff voice was instantly welcomed by your ears.

"Hey, are you free?"

"I can be, why?"

You paused for a moment, sheepishly, before releasing a sharp exhale.

"My cars broken down on the side of-" you looked for a sign, "- in the middle of nowhere. I'm kind of stuck. If you're not too busy can you pick me up? I can send you my location and get someone to deal with the rest later."

"Sure. Be there soon"

"Thank you so much"

And with that the call was finished. Simple enough. You could laugh at yourself for overthinking.

It wasn't another twenty minutes before you saw Shiu's car pulling up behind yours, he came into view wearing his signature suit, though his blazer was discarded allowing your eyes to linger on his broad shoulders. You hopped out to meet him half-way with a grateful smile on your face.

"Thank you again"

"Don't worry about it, you really weren't joking when you said the middle of nowhere though Doll. What were you doing? Having a picnic?" He replies walking over, voice dripping in sarcasm. Believe it or not, you don't have to spend a lot of time with Shiu to realise the handlers sassy personality, just somewhat focused, otherwise you'll miss his double sided remarks.

"No, thank you. I was on my way to the mechanic-"

He stifles a laugh.

"A bit late don't you think?"

"Well it wasn't my intention was it- what are you doing?" you ask as he lifts the car bonnet.

"Checking what's wrong. You have problems with your car and don't think to call the man who works with them?"

"I didn't think you'd want to help me out with something like that...I wouldn't. And it was just the engine light before."

He catches your eye, amused.

"I am hurt Doll."

His arms flexed as he tampered with the car, eyebrows knitted into a subtle frown, he focused- you couldn't help but stare. You had known Shiu was attractive, it wasn't a secret and you were sure he knew it too. You've heard the (watered down) stories he's told you about this twenties and though he jokingly refers to himself as an "old man" he carries enough confidence to show he isn't really bothered by it. You were sure he knew you thought he was attractive too, especially with the amount of times he's caught you staring.

Like right now.

"Doll."

"Yes?"

He walks closer to you slowly with a smirk on his face and you start to feel self conscious with the way his eyes stay attached to yours, not straying for a second.

"Your cars fine...Just low on coolant fluid."

"Right...It did say that..."

He shakes his head.

"Thank you for coming out here though, maybe i could take you to the restaurant we went to last week? As a thank you?" You quirk a brow staring up at him expectantly.

You both stay there for a second, matching each others foolish smiles.

"Didn't know fixing your car would get you to ask me out Doll."

Shiu is my husband.

let me know what you think and please feel free to use my inbox to talk or request <3