#how to pack minimally
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howzone · 7 months ago
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How to Pack Efficiently ✈✚ | Best Packing Hacks for Travel 🧳
Planning your next trip but feeling overwhelmed about how to pack? In this video, we’ll show you the best way to pack a suitcase so you can travel stress-free! Whether it’s a weekend getaway, business trip, or a long vacation, we’ll walk you through how to pack luggage efficiently, using simple techniques and smart hacks. No more struggling with overstuffed bags or forgotten essentials—just smart packing tips that make traveling a breeze.
You’ll learn:
✅ How to pack a suitcase to maximize space and keep your clothes wrinkle-free
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✅ Packing hacks that save space, including the best way to pack clothes
✅ How to pack a carry-on so you avoid extra baggage fees
✅ What to pack (and what not to pack) for different types of trips
✅ The best way to pack a suit and delicate dresses for formal events
✅ How to pack shoes without damaging other items
✅ Tips for how to pack minimally for short trips
We’ll also dive into how to pack 101 essentials and answer frequently asked questions like:
How to pack clothes for travel to avoid wrinkles How to pack like a pro using our favorite travel hacks Pack with me to see how we organize and prepare for a real trip! Whether you're a frequent flyer or someone planning your first vacation, these tips will show you how to pack efficiently for every occasion. From mastering how to pack a bag to choosing what to pack for a flight, we’ve got you covered. Avoid the headaches of overpacking and use our expert advice to make traveling fun and easy!
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souenkun · 6 months ago
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Judging from these panels, would it mean that there's no other yorishima exorcist that's still alive (since natori said that the yorishima family "was once" a big name, past tense) in the canon timeline, and that the yorishima we know probably ended his family's exorcism business for good by retiring himself? If so, was the reason tied to the youkai living in his left arm, or is there another cause? And when exactly did he retire— was it before or during seiji and shuuichi's high school days, which was why his left arm appeared with the thick bandages when he gave them the loquats in the anime, but he still lived in the estate during that time, or was it after the two became legal adults, which lined up somewhat with him moving into his forest home, abandoning his family estate in favor of living in isolation?
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And, speaking of retirement, I wonder if we'll ever know why midorikawa told us that the takis were "famous" (which presumedly meant they were strong enough to be well-known) as occult diviners, since tooru herself only ever mentioned what their previous family business entails, and never about their status in the exorcism community? We don't really need this extra bit if she wanted to further establish how tooru has an aptitude for spell-casting, either. Again, there's another "strong" family (whose members are still alive in canon) that went into retirement, but did the taki family lost their power because the ability to see (if they were needed for diviners) disappeared for at least the last three generations (if we assumed that tooru and isamu's parents couldn't see youkai too), or was it due to another reason? How close was shinichiro (tooru and isamu's grandpa) to the matobas that even the current clan head came to pay his respects during his sixth death anniversary; was his relationship with seiji's father strictly resolved around exorcism business, or was anything else involved? Does tooru herself doesn't fully understand the prowess her family once had, hence why seiji was the one who told takashi (and us readers) about it? What would this tiny bit of lore mean for tooru with it revealed this late into the manga, when tooru herself only talked sparsely about her ancestors in previous chapters?
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pink-pony-luv · 7 days ago
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kind of weird how attatched I am to the immigrant mentality considering im not an immigrant
#like I am the daughter of immigrants but I am NOT an immigrant myself & I need to get that thru my head. this is getting ridiculous#like someone told me once that I spoke arabic like I'm “من ŰšÙ†Ű§ŰȘ Ű§Ù„ŰłŰčŰŻÙŠŰ© ” and I have not let it go since#bc I have a very strong possessiveness over my specific Otherness. but also it's so so stupid because I am a 2nd gen kid thru & thru#like it's getting old. I'm a normal teem girl with strict parents this isn't about the immigration anymore#& on the other hand it's like ok. but I do understand why I thoguth that. my family line from my grandparents & parents is very rootless#but the thing is I AM NOT. I AM VERY MUCH ROOTED IN THE USA#ehat I need to do is get tf out of here & visit eritrea & saudi & then tour the world so I'm not this tied down to this shitass country#because I genuinely hate it so so bad here. but then I remember that out of all of our options this one is the best#and it makes me all types of mad.#this also sort of goes along with the fact that you can't make good money unless ur a bit of a shit bag#like there's no good way to do it. you have to suck up to assholes and you have to overcharge and you have to build this empire off others#and it's annoying because the2nd cousin I was talking about in the notes the other day probably did just that.#like I think he's a silicon valley tech bro bc it had to do with the investments hs made. and he got the opportunity it of a lifetime#but at what cost. like I don't want that for myself. and it's easier to avoid that if you just pack up your bags and leave#but it's so maddening that I need to be an asshole to get places in life. the dream I have of some idyllic life away from all the bs is gon#& I think there are certain careers you take where you can get away with minimal bastardness and still get good money#but they're so far & few that it seems like a lot of work for not that good pay at the end of the day.#not to mention these jobs just aren't it anymore. like I'm thinking doctor lawyer professor etc#but all of these things can still end up extorting you. and it's just so so so aggrivating how much shit is shitty#and it all cowms down to the fact that when you immigratr to a new land you build up from the bottom.it feels like a lot of progress then#I don't want to waste thr opportunities my parents gave me by coming here. but I also don't want to be here.#because I'm starting to believe that fleeing something is the best motivation ever.#like there's a reason it's usually africans “escaping” the ghetto life and not african americans#and I live in a small town suburb ideal with white friends & a flawless accent & 3 younger siblings that can't even speak arabic#it's so fucking insane that I genuinely believe I have a claim over being an immigrant. I don't. I want to but I don't#cause another thing ab immigrants having more motivations os that they have more reasons#get the family out. social pressure to retire & take care of your parents. etc etc#& I have a close knit society here but it's not that#man ifk where I'm going with this I just believe myself too much sometimes#nadia rants
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shannonsketches · 1 year ago
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Ganondorf and Nabooru in a heated marital dispute Ganon: You wanna duke it out in the desert? Nabooru: Fuck yeah, I do! *starts biting off her acrylics one by one* Ganon: *scared*
Oh she wouldn't even need to take them off, I trust her palm and knife hand strikes 😂
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Look at those upper body forms, her fronthand-backhand will put you straight into next week.
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barklikeagod · 2 months ago
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now i have to cross my fingers that the filter on my vacuum can keep the fiberglass in and vacuum like crazy
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fatcowboys · 2 years ago
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god my joints are So bad today both of my knees hurt so much when i bend them at all and also random elbow pain has entered the arena???? i want nothing more than a warm rn but my tattoo is barely 24 hours old i simply cannot
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travelwithpourpose · 21 days ago
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Biking Adventures: Exploring Johannesburg on Two Wheels (Sustainably!)
Bike touring, cycling holidays, sustainable transportation Pedal-Powered Luxury in the Heart of SandtonNestled in Johannesburg’s vibrant Sandton district, the Radisson Blu Hotel Sandton offers more than five-star comfort—it’s a launchpad for eco-conscious biking adventures. With its recent Hotel Sustainability Basics certification 12, this urban oasis combines luxury with a commitment to

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aspectpriority · 2 months ago
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gotta be honest gamers i really don't see how this whole trip is gonna work or how i'm supposed to enjoy it but okay i guess
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thoughtfulseason · 2 months ago
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sometimes all a girl wants after winning an amateur silver medal is for her club to say nice honest words and compliments instead of jokes like “you bribed the referees” and “you should have won first place” and just mean face. i mean yeah i joke a lot but neither on my birthday nor today did i get a congratulations irl. or sth nice when for others i do so much
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digitalnomadinstitute · 2 months ago
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fawniswriting · 24 days ago
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𝐝𝐹𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐜 đ°đšđ«đŸđšđ«đž
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Synopsis: After a mission filled with close calls and bad decisions, the team comes home to find an even bigger threat waiting at the door—your wrath.
Warning(s): THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS!!! platonic!thunderbolts x reader. no use of y/n. use of the nicknames doll, honey, and pretty girl. canon typical violence. descriptions of injuries. descriptions of explosion, gun use, etc. established relationship. profanities. kissing. VERY suggestive content (minors be advised). talks of having a baby. bucky being a little feral (very briefly). slightly hurt/comfort. basically bucky and reader being the parents of the group.
Word Count: 3.6k-ish
Author's Note: GUYS I saw this fanart on instagram and instantly knew that I had to write something inspired by it!!! I've been itching to post a thunderbolts fic since last week 😭 welcome back 2012-2014 era of avengers' tower fanfics ✚ anyway I hope they're keeping the revolution hair for bucky in doomsday or else I swear I'm gonna RIOT!!! (I know seb's head is shaved rn but wigs exist yk 😔) don't forget to comment, like, and reblog loveliesss đŸ©·
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky Barnes doesn't understand a lot of things since he returned to society.
Cryptocurrency is one of them. Social media is another. Anything that involves more acronyms than actual words is an immediate no on his list.
Above all else, Bucky Barnes struggles to comprehend how exactly he became responsible for the group of walking disasters now hailed as earth's newest, mightiest heroes.
Looking at the pack of hellions in front of him, Bucky has serious doubts about that title.
Right in the middle of the tower's lobby, the Thunderbolts—the New Avengers now, apparently—are scattered like barbie dolls in the aftermath of a toddler's tantrum. John is standing against a column with a tight jaw, his left leg lifted gingerly, wrapped in a makeshift splint that looks suspiciously like someone's utility belt. Beside him, Yelena sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of her as she cradles a bruised shoulder with an equally bruised hand. Alexei leans atop the front desk with a dried blood streaking down his temple, the young receptionist gone in fright the moment the team walked through the tower's entrance. Even Ava, usually one to disappear before debriefs, is visible for once, propped against the wall with her suit half-glitched and her expression blank.
Everyone is accounted for. Everyone is breathing. 
But they all look like they rolled down a hill of bad choices where they banged their heads at every rock.
The mission was supposed to be a quiet recon, a simple surveillance on a rumored underground tech sale in an abandoned shipyard, low risk with minimal engagement. But then someone—Bucky still doesn’t know who—decided that they could handle it. 
No heads-up. No plan. 
Just four impulsive thrill-seekers interrupting a high-stakes black market deal involving high-tech plasma rifles and an offended buyer with too many goons. 
By the time Bucky caught wind of what was happening, it was already chaos. He had to go in solo, extract the squad under heavy fire, disrupt the shipment, and reroute an entire response team of hostiles to avoid further catastrophe. They got out—just barely—and none of them seemed particularly eager to look him in the eye about it, especially after the thirty-minute tirade he launched into somewhere between fourth gear and a traffic jam.
From his place in front of the elevator, Bucky crosses his arms. “If any of you pull something like that again, you're all getting benched. Indefinitely.”
“What?!” Alexei roars.
Yelena scowls. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You don't get to make that call, Bucky,” John protests.
Ava nods. “We're not children. You can't just ground us whenever you feel like it.”
“Yeah?” Bucky laughs. Sarcastically. “Watch me, kid.”
As if on cue, the elevator arrives with a ding. Bucky gestures curtly towards the opening metal door. “Inside. Now.”
Reluctantly, the team shuffles in like a group of sheep being herded back into their pen for a much-needed nap time.
For a beat, the only sound that settles inside the cramped space is the low mechanical hum of the elevator ascending. 
That is until Ava decides to speak up.
“I’m just saying,” she begins, “it wasn’t like we meant to crash the deal. We were just improvising.”
“Improvising?” Bucky exclaims, glaring at her. “You call tossing a grenade into an active negotiation improvising?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Yelena argues, crossing her arms. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Bucky screeches, his tone rising. “Walker nearly lost a leg!”
“It's just a sprain,” John clarifies. “Probably.”
“See? It's just a sprain!” Yelena repeats a little too cheerfully. “He'll be good as new in no time. Right, John?”
John nods, failing to conceal his wince when Yelena bumps her unharmed shoulder to his.
Bucky rubs his temples. “I can’t believe I’m in charge of you people.”
The elevator dings again at the top floor.
“You know,” Yelena says as the team stumbles out of the metal trapbox, “we technically stopped the deal. You're not giving us credit for that.”
“That’s because you weren't supposed to stop the deal. You were supposed to observe.”
“Back in my day, observe meant punch first, ask questions later,” Alexei quips.
Bucky lets out a scathing scoff that echoes through the air. “Right. Remind me again how many years you spent rotting in that Siberian prison, Alexei?”
“Well, that's not very nice,” John mutters.
“You know what else isn't nice, Walker?” Bucky growls. “Getting your asses lit up by dozens of machine guns because none of you seem to grasp the basic concept of following orders.”
The group swelters in a momentary silence.
“I mean, in our defense,” says Ava, “none of us actually got shot.”
Before Bucky can tell her off even further, a voice suddenly intercepts, “How fabulous! You guys didn't get shot? Geez, someone really should give you all a medal for that.”
The whole team stops in their tracks.
One by one, everyone turns their head towards the direction from which the voice has come. The view that greets them could probably send a perfectly healthy man straight into an early grave.
On the platform floor a few paces away, they find you standing with arms folded across your chest. Despite the bright lilt of your voice, your eyes are cutting as they assess the entire team with the judgement of a juror who has already decided on a guilty verdict. It's clear from your attire that you were freshly off work before going straight to the tower, and since everyone knows that you were supposed to be on a work trip to Philadelphia for at least another two days, it’s safe to assume that your ticket back was booked right around the time someone shouted “mission compromised!”.
It's a full ten seconds of shared disgrace before Yelena finally breaks the silence.
“You called her?” she hisses, landing an accusatory glare in Bucky’s direction.
“I did not.” Bucky scoffs. “And why does it matter if I did?”
“Bucky didn't call me,” you interject, your posture still rigid, your gaze still icy.
“Then who—no.” Yelena's eyes drift towards the kitchen, squinting as she takes in the figure trying to hide behind the doorway. “Bob.”
Ava snaps her head up. “Bob, you little shi—”
“That’s enough,” you jump in, moving sideways to conceal Bob from Ava's murderous line of sight. “He's got nothing to do with this. This is about you—all of you—and what a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing you just did.”
Under your scrutiny, the whole squad shifts like a pack of raccoons caught rummaging through the kitchen trash. The weight of your stare seems to age them all by a decade.
“I'm gonna give all of you two minutes to explain yourselves,” you declare, the authority in your tone indisputable. “And I already know what happened, so don't even think about trying to trick me.”
There is a lull in the air where everyone seemingly tries to process your demand.
When their mouths open again, what follows is not so much an explanation as it is a verbal dogpile. Everyone starts talking all at once—too loud, too fast, and entirely contradictory. John tries to lead with the logistics, only to be steamrolled by Alexei shouting something about creative liberty. Ava attempts to downplay the situation with a jovial “it was barely an explosion!” while Yelena throws her under the bus with a hasty “she started it!”. 
Bucky—standing to the side with the posture of a man watching his funeral getting turned into a Dollar Store circus—doesn’t even bother stepping in. He knows better. 
You hold up a single finger and the room quiets instantly, like someone pressing mute on a trashy sitcom argument. The stillness that follows is so heavy, even the lights begin to flicker in anticipation.
“But we got out fine!” Ava sputters, desperate to fill in the quietness, though her voice immediately thins when she adds, “Mostly.”
“Yeah! I mean, it's just a bruise here, a bruise there—everything's great.” Yelena grins.
Your sharp stare slides towards John, the lines between your eyebrows tightening as you take in the awkward angle of his injured leg. John nearly cowers under your piercing gaze.
“How bad is the damage?” you question, your voice booming throughout the surrounding space.
“What, this? Oh, it's not that bad. Probably just need to ice it then I'll be good as new—”
“Walker.”
It's hardly a secret that John is perhaps your least favorite person in that room, with you still clearly holding a grudge towards him for what happened with the Flag Smashers. The man is used to your constant cold shoulder by now. He expects it, even. More often than not, John finds himself wondering if you would ever warm up to him the way you have with the rest of the team.
And yet, as he now stands at the end of your long stare, John can't help but think that perhaps your silent treatment isn't really that bad. Especially if it means he doesn't have to be on the receiving end of the critical scrutiny you're currently aiming towards him.
The blond gulps.
“There's a forty percent chance it might be broken,” John admits. “But it's likely just dislocated. No big deal.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
“Get to the medbay and tell them to run a scan,” you command. “Alexei, go with him.”
“That's not necessa—”
The sharp glare you're sending him causes John's words to lodge in his throat.
Alexei springs right into action, steering John away from your ferocious perusal and back towards the elevator.
“C'mon, big guy,” Alexei bellows. “Let's go pay a visit to our doctor friends.”
As soon as the two men disappear into the elevator, your glower shifts towards the remaining two people standing behind Bucky. Yelena pretends to check her nails while Ava's eyes are roaming the ceiling with faux nonchalance, both a pathetic attempt to avoid the clear daggers in your stare. The ridiculousness would've made you chortle were you not livid beyond salvation right now.
“I want you two to go back to your rooms, clean yourselves up, and be back here in no more than thirty minutes,” you proclaim. “We'll continue our discussion after dinner.”
“Wait, hold on—”
“That's not—”
“Just go, you two,” Bucky interrupts, the blue in his eyes colder than the Arctic ocean. “That wasn't a request.”
The two figures slump in defeat, teetering towards the staircase with the speed of a turtle in a morning rush hour. You hear Yelena grumbling something in Russian under her breath, and you force yourself not to think about what the phrase might mean lest you want your skin to crawl in an even higher degree of vexation.
“Good gracious.” Bucky shakes his head.
Behind you, Bob emerges out of the kitchen, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly as he approaches you like a wounded kitten.
“They're mad at me, aren't they?” Bob murmurs. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys fight with each other.”
“It's not your fault, sweetie,” you assure him, extending your hand and offering a comforting squeeze around his palm. “They're just being idiots right now. You did good, okay? Give it a few hours and I promise you, they'll forget about this already.”
Bob nods solemnly, his voice quiet as he excuses himself and trudges towards the common area. You release a breath as you observe him diving head first onto the sofa, burying his face in the cushion like a Victorian widow fainting onto her chaise.
Turning around, your eyes lock with another pair in blue. The smile on Bucky's face grows as he takes you in, his arms opening with all the intention to collect you in his embrace. 
“Hey, doll. I've missed—”
“No. Stay right there.” You raise your palm, taking a step back. “I'm mad at you, too.”
Bucky blinks. 
He watches you turn around and walk away from him, his arms coming down limp by his sides before he scutters after your retreating form. Bucky lingers in the doorway as you move about the kitchen, taking out pots, knives, and pans while slamming the cabinet doors shut in the process. You don't even spare him a glance as you start retrieving fresh ingredients from the fridge.
“Honey?” he calls out, voice meek beneath the echo of your knife slicing through onions on the counter. “C'mon, doll, you're really not gonna talk to me?”
“No.”
The chopping continues.
Bucky rubs his face.
“You know I'm just as disappointed in them as you are, right?” he begins. “Swear to God, doll, I had nothing to do with this. Didn't even know what those rascals were planning ‘till I got the call from Alexei. Told ‘em off as soon as I extracted them outta there.”
“Hm.”
Sighing, Bucky takes a tentative step forward, then another, finally closing the distance when he's sure you wouldn't smack him across the head with the chopping board in your hand. His fingers find purchase around your elbow, halting your movements, the gentleness aching as he spins you around to face him. The knife and half-sliced onion lie dormant on the counter.
“Hey,” Bucky utters, so softly that the air nearly swallows the word whole. “Talk to me?”
You heave in a shaky breath, evading his eyes. “What's there to talk about? I told you I'm pissed.”
“Okay, that part I already got.” Bucky chuckles, brushing the back of his palm on your cheek. “Help me understand why? At least tell me how I can fix it, pretty girl. Hm?”
Your silence quivers at the edges, growing more brittle with each swipe of Bucky’s touch on your skin. The walls around your heart crumble under his infuriating tenderness.
“When Bob called and said the team had gone radio silent, I—” you pause, swallowing hard, “—I thought something terrible happened. I booked the first train out of Philly before I even hung up.”
Bucky stays quiet, watching you with careful eyes.
“I couldn’t reach anyone. Not John, not Yelena, not Ava, not Alexei—not you. And the longer I waited, the worse it got in my head. I pictured the mission going sideways. All of you gone.” You inhale sharply. “I pictured all of you coming home in body bags.”
Bucky's heart breaks at the shudder he feels running through your back. His soul is already mourning over the loss of light he would usually find shining so brightly out of your eyes. It makes him cling to you just a tad bit tighter.
“Bob finally called me again to tell me that you're all fine. That you're on your way back. But that's not the point, Bucky.” You look at him then, your fingers flexing. “The point is, I should've never heard about all of this from Bob in the first place. I should've heard it from you.”
Bucky's shoulders sink. “I didn't want you to worry.”
You shake your head, eyes burning with the threat of unshed tears. “But I do worry, Bucky! That’s the point. I worry every single time. The moment all of you step out of this building, I'm counting down the minutes until you guys return to me again. You can't shield me away from that.”
He steps closer, removing what little bit of distance between the two of you until all of your atoms are nearly merged as one. “You're right. You are. I should’ve called. Should've trusted that you'd want to know, even if it might scare you.”
“It did scare me,” you whisper. “And I didn’t want Bob’s voice telling me everything was okay. I wanted yours.”
“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs, his arms pulling you nearer. “No more leaving you out. I promise it’ll be me from now on. I'll tell you everything, doll. Always.”
A shuddering breath leaves your lungs, and just like that, you completely melt away under Bucky's touch. Your forehead drops against the line between his shoulder and chest, your fingers gripping his sides as though he was the very force keeping you tethered to earth. Meanwhile, Bucky's lips ghost over the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings, the contrasting temperature of his palms appeasing you with random patterns against your back.
“I don't know how this all started,” you confess. “I'm not sure when I began caring this much about those idiots, but I do. The thought of something happening to them—to you—to all of you
”
Bucky's arms tighten around your frame. “I know, honey. I feel the same way.”
“This is not what I had in mind, you know?”
You tilt your head back to stare at his face, your fingers tangling themselves in the soft waves that Bucky has been growing out over the past few weeks. He almost cut them all off several days ago, but after some convincing on your end—which may have included activities that found your fingers buried in the soft tendrils and his face buried somewhere else—you managed to talk him out of it.
Bucky's eyebrows lift. “What do you mean?”
“Well
 when you said that you were joining this team, I thought I'd never seen a more dysfunctional group of people in my entire life. I figured it'd be a miracle if all of you last a whole month without someone quitting or accidentally blowing each other up.” You chuckle, your eyes softening. “I didn't think I'd end up pacing the hallway every time you guys went out, worrying like some overworked mother of five.”
Bucky huffs out a laugh, his forehead falling onto your own. “I get it. This wasn’t exactly how I imagined myself stepping into the dad role either, but
 here I am.”
“Yeah?” Your lips quirk up. “How did you imagine it then?”
“Well—” Bucky's voice drops, his breath warm where it fans against your skin, “—I figured itïżœïżœd start with a little house, somewhere quiet. Nothing fancy. Just enough for us to start building a life in. I’d fix the place up real proper. You’d hum to yourself as you whip up one of those famous pies of yours, and I’d pretend not to stare.”
The cheeky grin on Bucky's face grows, prompting a laugh out of your chest. His thumb continues to trace idle circles upon your waist.
“Then, when you feel the time's right, we’d try for a baby. The old-fashioned way. Real slow, real sweet. I’d kiss you like I got all the time in the world, and make love to you like I didn’t.”
Something flutters inside your chest, like stardust stirring in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. The way Bucky is looking at you makes you feel as if you were the first breath of the universe itself.
“That's how I pictured us becoming parents,” Bucky adds, brushing his lips along your jaw. “Not
 this. Whatever this is.”
You smile at the graze of his beard on your cheek, angling your head to capture him in a brief kiss. 
“You know what I think this is, Buck?” you ask, teasing your lips against his own. “I think we should view this as a practice run. After all, how hard can it be to parent our own kid if we can do it to a group of five ridiculous, chaotic misfits, right?”
“Doll.” He sighs. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”
“Depends.” You hum, your lips twitching in feigned innocence. “If you think I'm imagining you putting a baby in me
 then yeah, you're absolutely right.”
Bucky swallows your cheeky grin with a kiss, grunting against your mouth as he presses you back against the counter. The muffled moans you let out are music to his ears, a lascivious melody that rushes straight towards places he reserves explicitly for you. His hands slip under your blouse, roaming the expanse of skin, drifting lower and lower in search for the one place that could send him straight to heaven and—
“Yelena! Give it back to me!”
“I told you it wasn't me!”
Bucky groans.
The shrill voices resonate all the way down to the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable echoes of footsteps thundering down the staircase. Bucky makes a guttural noise of frustration as his face slumps into the crook of your neck.
“I swear to God, I’m gonna ship them to Asgard one of these days,” he mutters.
You snort, brushing your fingers through his hair and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. 
“Let's put a raincheck on the baby-making, soldier,” you purr, smirking when it spurs on a rumble from Bucky's chest. “Looks like I've got a fight to break up before we have two dead superheroes on our hands.”
He groans again, this time at the loss of your warmth as you slip out of his arms. From the kitchen's doorway, you raise an eyebrow towards the common area, perching your palms on either side of your hips as you take in the havoc ahead.
“What the hell is going on here?” you snarl.
“She stole my snacks!” accuses Ava.
“I don't even like Jammie Dodgers, you lunatic!”
“What a lot of crap. We all know you'd even eat chicken off the ground given the chance, you pig!”
“Fucking asshole—”
“Hey!” you interrupt, your voice sharp as you march towards the two fuming Avengers. “You call each other any more names, then I promise you, you're gonna wish you got shot on that mission today.”
Bucky watches the whole interaction from the kitchen with his arms crossed and a slow grin spreading across his face. He leans against the counter, studying you with the quiet reverence of a man who has found the meaning of home after decades of searching. Even in the midst of this domestic madness, even with the team’s antics grinding on his last nerve, he wouldn't trade a single thing in his life for anything else.
There are still a lot of things in this world that Bucky struggles to understand.
But with you by his side, and his entire team watching his six, he knows that he's got nothing to worry about.
5K notes · View notes
citrusrei · 2 months ago
Text
a lil' something sweet
Farmhand! Joel x Married! Reader
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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.
ïżœïżœHmm?”
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.”
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Thank you for reading this. As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated and if you enjoyed reading it, let me know! ♄
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luna-azzurra · 1 month ago
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Soul-Level Secrets Your Character Is Carrying (And Hiding Like Their Life Depends on It)
These are the kind of secrets, that keep your character up at night. The kind that twist their decisions, poison their relationships, and build a wall between who they are and who they pretend to be.
» They think they ruined someone’s life, and no one knows.
It wasn’t murder. It wasn’t obvious. But maybe they said the wrong thing. Maybe they didn’t show up when it mattered. Maybe they walked away and something irreversible happened. No one connects the dots. But they do. Every day.
They smile like everything’s fine. They help people. But underneath? They’re trying to atone for something they never confessed.
» They don’t believe they’re capable of being truly loved.
They might flirt. They might date. They might even say “I love you” like it’s nothing. But they don’t believe it when it’s said back. They think people are just being kind. Or delusional. Or lying. It doesn’t matter how good they are—it never feels like enough. So they self-sabotage. Quietly. Strategically. Like clockwork.
» They’re living a life that’s not theirs.
Maybe they took someone’s spot, figuratively or literally. Maybe they’re fulfilling someone else’s dream, wearing someone else’s name, carrying someone else’s story. They were supposed to say no. Walk away. Be honest. But now it’s too late. Too deep. Too tangled. So they pretend this version of their life is real. Even when it doesn’t feel like it.
» They’ve buried a part of their identity because it was safer.
Their queerness. Their culture. Their belief system. Their softness. Their rage. At some point, they decided—this part of me makes people leave. So they buried it. Cut it off. And now they move through life like a shadow of who they were supposed to be. They blend. They perform. But deep down, something sacred is starving.
» They still love the person they say they hate.
They’ll deny it. They’ll joke. They’ll talk sh*t with a smile. But the truth? They never really let go. And they never will. It’s in the way their voice shakes. The way they remember the smallest detail. The way they get weirdly quiet when that person’s name comes up. Love laced with bitterness is still love. That’s what makes it so hard.
» They’ve hurt someone on purpose—and never apologized.
It was calculated. Or maybe impulsive. But they knew what they were doing. And they did it anyway. Now they pretend it didn’t matter. They laugh it off. “We all make mistakes,” right? But in the quiet moments, it haunts them. They remember the look in that person’s eyes. They remember the moment they chose cruelty. And they hate themselves for it.
» They think they’re a bad person deep down.
They might be kind. Loyal. Brave. But they’re convinced it’s a performance. A mask. That underneath all the good, they’re something rotten. Unforgivable. Wrong. So they wait. For the slip-up. For the fallout. For someone to finally say it out loud: “I knew you were never really good.”
» They’re still shaped by something they pretend didn’t happen.
That thing? The trauma? The grief? The shame? They’ve never talked about it. Maybe they’ve blocked it out. Maybe they minimize it. But it’s everywhere—in the way they react to conflict, touch, silence, love. They don’t think it matters anymore. But it does. It always has.
» They dream of leaving. But never will.
Every day, they imagine packing a bag. Burning it all down. Starting over. But they stay. Because of guilt. Obligation. Fear. They smile while doing the right thing. But in the back of their mind, they’re screaming. They’ve built a prison out of choices that looked noble on paper.
» They’ve built a whole personality around keeping people from seeing who they really are.
The loud one. The chill one. The one who always makes the plans or always fixes the mess or always has a snarky comeback. It’s not fake. But it’s not all there is. They’ve decided that the real them? The soft, scared, selfish, angry, insecure them? Can’t be loved. So they keep the performance airtight. But some part of them still hopes someone will see through it anyway.
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whelpimnauthuman · 1 year ago
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Anyways while I decide how much/if I'm going to update any of my Pack's lore, here's my current lead, Briar
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He's the son of the original alphas, Rain and Flash, and, uh- yeah
Also this is him on the site:
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littlepuppers · 6 months ago
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i really want to go camping. just a nice, solo camping trip to relax and have time to myself :)
I’d wake up and make breakfast, hike up to a different spot, start a fire and forage for a bit, draw or carve something, and setup camp for the night.
i have one pair of pjs with me and my sleeping bag for the night because i don’t have to worry about anyone judging what i wear or asking me for a spare blanket. So i packed just a pair of booty shorts and a smallish tank top. it’s just basic undergarments, nothing fancy, and i would be pretty embarrassed if anyone knew i wore these drabby clothes to sleep.
after i make a cup of sleepytime tea and wait for the fire to die out, i snuggle up in my sleeping bag. it’s a bit chillier tonight but i don’t have any other clothes to wear on top of this since i only brought my pjs and my stinky hiking clothes.
whatever. i drift off to sleep and dream of watching shooting stars falling around me, so pretty. as they crash onto the ground around me i feel the heat from them on my skin. it’s getting warmer, but i also really feel it on my cheeks. like i’m flushed or blushing. i watch the stars spark into flames and die out into embers.
animals start to surround me. deer, rabbits, foxes, and coyotes. they all come up around me and start sniffing my face and body. they start licking my face and neck, i giggle trying to push them away, it tickles. one of the coyotes that’s licking my stomach starts traveling down toward the hem of my shorts. woahhh haha, watch out buddy, i tell him.
Obviously not understanding english, he nudges his snout under the hem and takes a lick on my parts. i push his head away harshly and sit up. Immediately im pushed back down by the other animals and a huge buck comes and steps on my hair and arms so i can’t move.
i know this is a dream but how am i not waking up already???
a rabbit comes and starts pulling my shorts down, the coyote comes back and nudges his snout between my legs, i scream and try to close them but he turns and bites one. fuck, that felt real.
He goes back and starts licking, hesitant at first, just seeing how it tastes i guess. since foraging and meal prepping the smart and healthy way, ive only packed like fruit and stuff so obviously it probably tastes like really fucking good. at least that’s all i can assume from him diving in, licking deeper and deeper. fuck her tongue is fucking huge. it goes in and out fluidly. the slick sounds filling the air along with my whimpers and the other animals breathing and chirping and whining.
i feel it building up in my tummy, something molten. fuck, this is the weirdest wet dream i’ve ever had.
all of the sudden, his tongue dives insanely deep and curls into one of my spots. I wake up with a gasp and shaking through an orgasm. letting out a loud screaming moan, my eyes shoot open as i feel it curl inside me again.
WHAT THE FUCK
a tall dark figure is above me, my sleeping bag is unzipped and this persons hand is between my legs, his fingers curl inside me again. i scream, grabbing his arm and trying to push him away and get his fingers out. he plunges them deeper and uses his other hand to wrap around my neck and push it to the ground, holding it there.
i try to scream but can’t with my minimal airway, so i struggle and whimper, squeezing and trying to tear his arm away from my neck but it won’t budge. his fingers are still thrusting in and out of me, sometimes slowing down to explore and prod at my spots. i really cant help but shiver from the stimulation and orgasm from earlier. but who the fuck is the guy and how did he get in here and find me?!?
he finally speaks, moving his fingers to slip out a bit. “you weren’t this wet the whole time darlin’, my friend had to help you out to start, could barely get him off’a you. but i can’t blame him
” the dark figure takes his fingers out slowly with a shhlickkk sound, putting them up to his mouth, “
because you sure do taste fucking heavenly.” he leans to the side so i can see behind him something moves, a fucking dog. what the fuck. i thrash and whimper. “don’t fucking move. he bit you once, he’ll do it again.” I freeze, the bite, the dream, fuck it was all real.
the dog starts whining and tries to come up to me but the man pushes him back. he pushes his fingers back into me and starts moving them again, fuck i’m so overstimulated it almost hurts. “fuck, he’s eager. do u mind if he goes for a second course?” “fuck you,” i strain out. he opens my legs barely and the dog jumps over me sniffing and licking as deep inside as he was in the dream. fuckkk this is horrible i could get a disease or something, he needs to stop licking at my fucking spots it’s really too much.
the pressure starts building again. oh no, no no no no. please god i can fucking cum on a dogs tongue. opposing to my thoughts, my body gets closer and closer and- he stops. i freeze and tears start flowing from my eyes. from relief his contact from me is gone and because my body is so worn out now.
SHITT, something scrapes at my hips, the dogs paws, what the fuck is going on?? “sorry darling, he needs a little help, do you mind?” the man takes the pillow out from under my head and harshly lifts my hips, placing it underneath. he takes his hand off my throat finally, i gasp for air and can barely speak through my damaged vocal chords, “fuck you asshole.” “uhh yeahhhh i won’t, but he’s about to.” he nudges the dog forward. the man stuffs my shorts into my mouth so i can’t scream. how the fuck is this happening.
the dog immediately scratches at my hips again and starts rutting his hips toward me. FUCK NO. i thrash around but feel something poke my neck. it’s the man holding my wood carving knife i. his hand against my neck. “move, and I’ll fucking slit your throat.” tear start flowing from my eyes. how did i ever get in this position. i feel something scortching start to poke at my entrance, fuck please no please please please no

the dog edges toward me more and suddenly plowing himself so deep inside me, how the fuck did i think doggy dicks were small??? this feels fucking huge, it fucking hurts. he’s thrusting in and out and an inhumane pace. his huge red doggy part pushes every single one of my spots and i can’t think anymore, i can’t even move. it’s like he’s going through me i can almost feel it in my stomach. he starts growling and i feel it get bigger. no way, this dog is not gonna knot me. please god. he can’t fit it in thank god.
“aw cmon buster, you can do better than that,” the mysterious man says before pushing the dogs backside against me and i feel it force inside me FUCK.
fuck that’s huge, i can’t fucking move because i think im gonna break. help please someone help me god

i feel it. the flooding of molten liquid filling me. all i can do is whine through this soaked through fabric. i’m such an idiot for getting myself in this stupid situation, for not bringing a gun, im so stupid. there’s nothing i can do now except stay still while this dogs huge knot presses on my spot and his cum dumps into my cervix. i feel it dripping out. all over my sleeping bag and the floor of the tent. “how’d that feel hun? seems buster loved it, did you?” he takes his finger and wipes from the base of the dogs cock, bringing the liquid up to my mouth and smearing it all over my lips. i feel it leak down into my mouth and i’m utterly repulsed.
the dog breaks away with a POP and my legs and hips and whole body goes lax. the man chuckles and puts his hand down there again. oh no please don’t, and he doesn’t. instead, he scoops up the dogs cum and pushes it back into me. “good girl keep it in ok? the scent of it will help him track you down again.” i groan weakly and my vision begins to go blurry. the last thing i see is him throwing a stick outside the tent and the stupid dog running off after it to fetch.
fuck camping.
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kkusuka · 2 months ago
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john price is a good man.
you can see it in the way he smiles as he orders his tea- everyday at 6:12am, herbal with two sugars- and as he stifles a laugh at the pun you leave on the side of his steaming cup- something about goldfish in a tank because you know he was military at some point- and he always, always, pours his change into the tip jar after you refuse to pocket the $50 he tries to hand you- he doesn't push because your manager is right there and he can't get his favorite barista in trouble.
and he is usually the only person in the shop that early- he knows that it picks up around seven so he makes sure he's there before that- and he's always up to talk about whatever you want to babble about as his drink steeps.
the new minecraft update and how you cried over it like you aren't a grown adult. ( 'it's embarrassing, crying over a mob in a video game that i've been plating since middle school. i am a grown adult, i should be crying over rent or taxes or something. 'i'd rather you not cry about anything, sweetheart').
how your roommate keeps leaving dishes in the sink and how it annoys you so much but you refuse to say anything about it. ('and i feel bad because we really get along and it's just this one thing that gets me but-' 'but nothin' sweetheart.' the you deserve to be taken care of, no chores, no worries goes unsaid)
how your manager makes you open and close the shop all alone even when he makes more than you. (that dick, john can make sure that you don't have to worry about mornings at least, he'll be there. you don’t have to worry about nights either, he'll get simon and johnny on it)
how your hourly wage just isn't cutting it anymore and you might have to find a second job to stay afloat. ('it's just a lot you know? i feel like i'm always fighting to keep my head above water.' 'you ever need help with anything you come to me, yeah sweetheart?' and you have no idea how much he means it.)
and eventually you have to seek him out. you got fired, your dick of a manager citing unprofessionalism and the company moving in another direction (it has nothing to do with the visit he got from that motherfucker in the cap with the union jack plastered on the front and some scot. but it really is his fault, john wouldn't have to do any of this if that snake would just treat you right). he doesn't even let you work your last day, just tells you to pack your locker and your check will be deposited next week.
john price is a good man and you know that because he gets you that second job. "bein' a barista is just like bein' a bartender. you'll be great sweetheart."
it's his bar you learn, just something small he and his colleagues bought after retiring from the SAS. you start working about four years, on the dot, after opening day- the man, kyle, says as he showed you around the building. he was your co-bartender, and johnny was some kind of chef for the minimal amount of food they served, and simon was security- whenever he was there anyway.
john mostly stayed in his office, save for the slower afternoon hours when he would join the four of you in your everlasting game of cards. (you've lost and you know it but they feel bad setting it into stone, so the game continues. kyle'll find a way to make johnny lose so you don't feel bad)
working at the bar was probably the best thing that happened to you in a long time. (best thing to happen to john too, but fucking your employee weeks after hiring them is bad business)
and to their credit, they keep you away from whatever side gig they have going on but you never feel out of place. (you don't question them when they randomly disappear in the middle of the week then come back at closing, brushing right past you into the back offices. you look past the blood, if there was an issue they would let you know).
that is until you get followed home by one of the regulars- it really was a one time thing, your car was in the shop and the walk isn't all that far in the daylight- and the only person you could think to call was your boss. john didn't leave the bar until the sun came out so you knew he wouldn't be asleep, and he told you to call him if you were ever in trouble and this was the closest you could get.
it took him less than five minutes to get to you and even less time to convince you that living so far was dangerous and that you could come stay with him until you found a nicer place. (you never question how he already had clothes in your size, or the exact hygiene products you had back in your old apartment.) but you let him guide you into his room, into his bed as he promises he'll make up the guest room another day. and you just let him hold you.
you don’t question how you never see the man again. you don't look twice as his name flashes across the tv screen and you don't think too far into his disappearance.
john price is not a good man, but you don't need to know that.
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