#keeps the hair out of my farming eyes

[peasantpilled]

loving this new haircutt… the Bowle

[alltheirdamn]

Rotten | cowboy!joel x f!reader

Summary: Sharing land with Joel Miller has always been infuriating, but when your bad attitude finally gets his attention...things get messy. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.2k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, banter and arguing, explicit language, brat taming, semi dark!joel, dubcon elements, degrading, choking, rough spanking, hair pulling, face slapping, throat fucking, touch of dacryphilia, rope/bondage, rough unprotected piv sex, hint of a subspace moment, orgasm denial, squirting, creampie, no aftercare because joel is an old, grumpy asshole A/N: Y'all probably wouldn't believe me if I told you Apple by Charlie XCX inspired this random fic...but anyway, this one goes out to my sweet bb angel @lotusbxtch <3 thank you for always being my partner in crime in the late hours of the evening ilysm

Part II

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The Texas sun beat down on your skin as you rode through the acres of land—your land— stretching out before you. Passed down from generation to generation, this entire pasture of fields and wild barley was yours. After both of your parents died during a freak accident, you inherited the land and dealt with upkeep and farm animals as if it were your life. And it was your life. Every inch of this farmland was yours, no matter what anyone said. 

You pressed your heels into the side of your horse, Mac, and urged him further down through the tall grass. The summer hadn’t been kind to the fields, the grass yellowing in most places, but what would you do about it? Tell the sun to stop shining? All you could do was take care of the land and ensure nothing went wrong. The animals were taken care of, the wild wheat still grew strong in the outskirts past your tiny farm home, and you had enough money to put dinner on the table for yourself at the end of your night. 

No trouble at all. 

What was trouble, though, was Joel Miller riding his ass right down the edge of your land. The sun cast him in a dark silhouette as he rode closer, his broad body sitting tall on the back of his horse. You held back the reigns, shushing Mac gently as you slowed him to a trot, keeping a healthy distance from the insufferable man trespassing onto your fields. 

“Think y’got yourself a bit lost out here, Miller,” you hollered. 

Joel removed the black cowboy hat from his head; the grey hairs streaking through his curls shimmered in the sunlight as he swiped an arm over his sweaty forehead. Every inch of his skin was sunkissed and tan from hours under the sun, his greying beard patchy and well-kept despite his rugged exterior. If he weren’t such an asshole, maybe you’d even consider him attractive, but your irritation with him ran deeper than any other emotion. 

Staring up at you under thick brows, Joel quirked an amused grin and shrugged. 

“Ain’t lost at all, darlin’. S’my land out here.”

You steered Mac forward, keeping yourself parallel with Joel’s body. You weren’t intimidated by any man, let alone Joel Miller. He may have a few decades on you, but that didn’t matter. The Miller family had always been a problem. For generations, they feuded with your family over acres of land that stretched across the horizon, never agreeing on who owned what. Before Joel, his father had caused an uproar in your family, and now he just had to continue causing problems. Would you ever rid yourself of this man and his family?

“I suggest y’take your ass home ‘fore I make you leave,” you warned. 

The wind kicked around you, fanning your hair down around your shoulders. Joel caught how your hair flared under your cowboy hat, and a hint of mischief sparkled inside his dark brown eyes. He was a fucking nuisance and still on your fucking land. 

“Careful now, darlin’. Those are some mighty big fightin’ words.”

You straightened your spine, holding firm on the reigns to keep yourself anchored. Mac huffed impatiently as if he knew how sour your mood was turning. The longer you kept yourself around Joel, the quicker your anger grew. The sun would set soon, and you still had miles to cover before you made it home; you wouldn’t entertain an old cowboy all night, even if he were staring at you like you were a wild horse to be tamed. 

“This is the last time I’m tellin’ you to stay off my land, Joel. I mean it.”

Joel chuckled lightly as if your words meant nothing. He placed his hat back over the matted curls on his head and began riding past you. You glared over your shoulder, watching his body travel further into the horizon and away from the rolling fields of your land. 

**

The summer wasn’t getting any easier. The sun grew brighter each day, and the air thickened with humidity, making it nearly impossible to continue wearing anything restrictive. With no one else around to pester you, you paraded around the stables in a tight top, a pair of daisy dukes, and your usual worn leather boots. The fewer clothes, the better—even if that meant getting bit up by a few mosquitoes here and there. 

You were deep into cleaning Mac’s stall when you heard the sound of hoofs pounding against the dirt ground outside the stables. Your body went rigid; you knew who it was without looking. Who else would it be out here? The horse in the distance bristled as its rider dropped to the ground, his heavy footfall nearing you as you exited the stall with a towel slung over your shoulder. 

Joel stood tall in the entrance, his broad frame sucking in all of the light as he walked closer. He wore an old denim button-up, and the sleeves pushed up his tan forearms, exposing the thickly corded muscles that ran down to his hands. Without a cowboy hat resting over his eyes, you could see how rich and dark they were as they stared you down. Despite hating him, your body reacted on its own accord. You clenched your thighs, trying to quell the ache growing inside your core. Leaning against the stall, you narrowed your eyes, watching Joel stalking closer. His steps were confident—casually, even—as if he owned the damn place. 

“Not sure why y’think it’s okay to come waltzin’ in here,” you scowled, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Ain’t you just a ray of sunshine,” Joel smirked. 

“Fuck off, old man,” you snapped, rolling your eyes. 

“What was that, darlin?” 

Joel stepped forward, and you mimicked his movements, drawing yourself closer to him. Even with his height towering over you, you were unphased. This man wouldn’t get the best of you. 

“Oh, sorry. Should I be speakin’ louder? Ain’t sure if y’got your hearing aids in.”

“No, I heard y’just fine. Just wanna hear you say it again.”

The toe of your boot tapped against his as you glared up at him. With a smug grin stretching across your face, you repeated your retort. 

“Fuck off. Old man.”

Joel’s body tensed, his eyes narrowed as he considered your words. You weren’t backing down; he was on your property and, quite frankly, pissing you off. He could bitch and moan all he wanted about how this land was his birthright, but he was wrong. Your parents settled the matter generations ago and never once faltered against the Millers. That wouldn’t change now. You’d uphold their wishes and continue fighting for what was yours. 

“Y’gotta damn nasty mouth on such a tiny body. Ain’t your parents teach you some manners?” Joel questioned. 

“They taught me enough, but it ain’t gonna stop me from tellin’ you off. So, get the hell off my property,” you demanded. 

You glanced down, noticing Joel’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was amusing seeing him all riled up. Who knew he had that kind of spark in him? You wondered just how far you could push him until he snapped. 

“Ain’t you just spoiled rotten. Is that what it is? Y’think everythin’ is yours ‘cause your mommy and daddy said so?”

His voice was taunting, a litany of rhetorical questions to which he didn’t care to know the answer. Whatever you said, it wouldn’t matter because his mind was made up. Stubborn old man.

“I don’t think everythin’ is mine. I know it is,” you objected. “So, move your old ass back to your side of the pasture and get out of my face.”

Joel crowded your body, walking you back towards the stall door until your body pressed into the wood. You lifted your chin defiantly, watching his eyes clouded with rage. 

“Spoiled lil’ brat. Should teach you a lesson for the way you’re speakin’ to me,” Joel growled. 

Let’s see how far we can take this, you thought. 

“Whatcha gonna do? Spank me?” You laughed, gracing him with a rueful smile. 

Placing his hands above you on the door, Joel caged you between his body. You had nowhere to run; truthfully, you didn’t want to run. The incessant ache between your legs was swelling, your underwear practically soaked with the burning anticipation coursing through your veins. 

“Keep runnin’ your mouth, darlin’. S’only gonna make things worse for you.”

“I ain’t scared of you, Joel.”

“You damn well should be,” he warned. 

Joel’s hand shot out to grab the base of your neck, yanking you a breath away from his lips. The rich scent of whiskey wafted off his lips as he held you close, his fingers tightening around your throat. You rolled your tongue across your bottom lip, an invitation for whatever threat he had. You could take it. 

“Y’think it’s cute actin’ this way? Think you’re just tough shit, and no one will put you in your place, hmm?” Joel whispered. 

“You gonna be the one to do it, Joel?” You challenged. 

Joel used his grip on your throat to spin you toward the door, your cheek smashing into the wood as he pinned you against it. The instant sting of his palm radiated through the denim of your shorts, the heat of his hand melting into your skin. You yelped in pain, dragging your nails over the wood that strained against the press of your body. His hand smoothed over the curve of your ass before delivering another jarring smack. 

“Fuck!” You cried, biting back tears. 

“Spoiled.” Smack. “Fuckin’.” Smack. “Brat.” Smack. Smack. 

“Joel, please!” You begged. 

You weren’t sure if you were begging for more or begging for him to stop. Either way, he was unrelenting, his handprint leaving welts on your skin. Joel’s grip on your throat tightened, restricting your breathing as he dug his fingers into the supple skin of your ass. Prodding…smoothing…spanking. A continuous, viscous cycle you were weak against. Every bite of his hand on your body intensified the throbbing between your legs, your clit swelling with need. Repeating slaps against your other cheek forced tears down your face, their path leading down your neck and onto Joel’s warm hand. 

“You cryin’, darlin’?” Joel taunted. “Gonna beg me to stop?”

“Please—” You choked out, your words garbled and strained. 

Joel’s lips touched your ear, his breath fanning over your skin in waves. 

“M’fraid I can’t. Not til’ y’learn your lesson.”

You twisted your head around, your tired eyes connecting with his. There wasn’t a hint of brown in his irises as his pupils swallowed them whole, an unsatisfied look washing over his features. He wasn’t done, and neither were you. 

“Fuck you,” you snarled. 

Joel tilted his head, his graying mustache twitching as his lips curved into a smile. An unmistakable hint of desire masked his expression, keeping you reeled in and wanting more. If he could keep going, then so could you. 

“You just ain’t backin’ down, huh?” Joel questioned. 

You wagged your head back and forth, his fingers squeezing against your windpipes. Joel’s hand coasted up your waist, tugging at the belt loop on your shorts until your body spun to face his. Even with tears streaming down your cheeks, you grinned at him, clearly unbothered by the onslaught of pain he had inflicted. 

“That all y’got, old man?” You lipped off. 

“Call me old man one more time, darlin’,” Joel warned his face inches from yours. 

“Old. Man.” You punctuated each word through gritted teeth.

Joel cupped your sex through your jeans, no doubt feeling the arousal seeping through the denim fabric. A rouge whimper fell off your lips, and you bit back any more sounds to give away the desperation rolling through your veins.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he exhaled, but there was a lightness in his voice.

You were both giving into some carnal need, electrifying the humid air around you. You chased his mouth, wanting to lap up every threat on his whiskey-drenched tongue. Joel pulled back, your lips connecting with nothing as you arched forward. With a slight pout, you huffed in annoyance. 

“Look who’s actin’ all desperate now. Just beggin’ for this old man to fuck you.”

“Betcha can’t even get it up in the first place,” you grumbled. 

Joel’s hand connected with your cheek, a rough slap sending your face to the side. Dammit, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d done. The sting of his palm sent a wave of pleasure rolling through your stomach, a burning need just aching to come undone. Thick fingers gripped your jaw, wagging your face side to side. 

“I’ve heard enough of that bratty mouth,” Joel said decisively. 

His hands brushed over your collarbone, grasping your shoulders and shoving you to your knees. Your legs hit the straw-covered ground with a soft thud, your skin scraping against the dry hay. He wasted no time undoing his large belt buckle, working his cock out of the confines of his jeans, and your mouth went dry at the sight of him. Joel was hung like a fucking horse, his length thick and no short of any girth. Precum dribbled down off the tip, the sticky mess enticing you to move closer. Staring up at him through your lashes, you waited for his next move. He might have you on your knees, but you’d have his cock, and that was power in itself. 

“Make use of that mouth and suck,” he commanded. 

You lapped at the precum, his cock twitching against every flick of your tongue. You explored his length, dragging your tongue along the veins running down the underside of his cock. Joel gripped the hair at the crown of your head, guiding your mouth over the tip and down his length. Your nose brushed against the bushy hair at the base, his musky scent flooding your senses—it was intoxicating. 

“There we go,” Joel hummed, his voice gravely and strained. “So fuckin’ full of me y’can’t talk back.”

His name came out muffled as you tried to speak, your tongue flatted against the base of his cock. He pushed his cock a centimeter further, the tip knocking against the back of your throat. You gagged around him, your hands slapping against his thick thighs. 

“I don’t wanna hear y’say a damn word,” Joel growled. “You’re gonna take my fuckin’ cock down your throat and choke on it.”

You clawed at his thighs as tears sprung along your waterline, threatening to spill over the longer he kept himself inside your mouth. His fingers tightened around tiny strands of your hair, anchoring you to his cock as he thrusted himself deeper. You tried to protest and pull away, but his grip on you was unforgiving. 

“Please,” you garbled, spit rolling down your chin. 

“Still actin’ like a spoiled fuckin’ brat, ain’t you? Think y’can get whatever you want?”

He granted you an inch to breathe, pulling you halfway off his cock. You inhaled sharply through your nose, trying to latch onto any control. Joel used his grip on your hair to slide your mouth up and down his length, the sound of your lips around his the only noise aside from his labored breathing. You tapped on his thigh twice, hoping he’d relent and give you a reprieve. 

“Real fuckin’ cute,” he laughed. “Struggle all y’want, darlin’. I ain’t stoppin’.”

The tears flowed freely now, mixing with the saliva pooling down your jaw as you worked him deeper down your throat. Every strained attempt to beg him to stop fell on deaf ears; his cock only pushed further down until you had no choice but to sit there completely disarmed and helpless. The scratches left on his thighs didn’t phase him at all, nor did your whimpers as you tried to swallow a breath around him. 

“Keep cryin’, darlin’. Just makes you look prettier when I’m ruinin’ you,” Joel muttered. 

As your nose pressed against the hair at his navel, Joel’s hand brushed over your cheek, collecting a rogue tear on his thumb. Through blurred eyes and running mascara, you blinked up at him right as he tasted the tear pooling on the pad of his fingertip. 

“Delicious,” he hummed.

A dangerous grin split across his face, his hips jerking forward one last time before he wrenched you free from his cock. You coughed violently, the air wooshing back into your lungs with each heaving breath. You swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, wiping off the saliva coating your chin and jaw. 

“You fuckin’ asshole,” you choked out. 

Crouching down, Joel met you at eye level, his eyes soulless and dark. You shivered under his heavy gaze and flinched away from his face as he crowded you. 

“How’s that attitude of yours now?” He questioned. 

You reeled back, sending a glob of spit across the bridge of his nose. Joel scrunched his eyes together, jaw clenched as he wiped away your spit. You bared your teeth at him, still refusing to back down. Joel straightened to his full height, working at shoving his cock back in his jeans. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed; you hated him but wanted more. 

“Guess I ain’t been rough enough,” Joel grumbled, walking down the stable. 

You watched as he picked a bundle of lead rope off the hook near Mac’s stall, weighing it between his hands. A jolt of panic ran through your veins as you saw his eyes light up in mischief. You were so fucked. You half-considered running, but where was the fun in that? Joel would only chase you down, and even that sounded delicious. There was no use in fighting it now; you were in it for the long haul. 

“Now,” he started, his steps slow as he walked back toward your kneeling body. “I’m gonna give you two options. Y’either walk your ass outside like a good girl, or I drag you out by your hair. What’s it gonna be, darlin’?”

“I’ll walk,” you snapped, rising to your feet. 

Your knees ached with each step as you walked into the blinding daylight outside the stables. Gnats swarmed around your face as you stood idle by the entrance, glancing over your shoulder at Joel stalking behind you. The rope swung beside his body as he carried it in his hand, the lingering threat lying within the coarse fibers that wound together. His head jerked over to the tie rack beside the barn, his eyes trained on the vacant stall before the expanse of your land. 

“C’mon, brat.”

He waltzed in front of you, guiding you to the empty platform with a stern look gracing his features. Without a single word, Joel yanked your wrists together, his deft fingers working at knotting the rope around your skin. The fraying pieces bit into your skin, rubbing and burning the longer he twisted it in loops around your hands. He gave the rope a good tug, humming in satisfaction once the binding was tight enough. Guiding your arms upwards, he clipped the lead to the metal loop on one side of the tie rack, keeping your body suspended awkwardly as your wrists ached from the restraint. You refused to say a word, too frustrated even to protest his actions. If you thought you were helpless before, you were utterly powerless now. It was just you, Joel, and the empty stretch of land that went on for miles. 

Joel pressed his body against your back, the warmth of his touch ignited heat within your core all over again. You squirmed as his hands roamed over your curves, his fingers tracing the outline of your breasts under your sweat-covered shirt. He pinched at your nipples, finding their pebbled indentation hidden within your bra. A desperate whine left your lips as you swayed against the pull of the rope, your feet slipping against the ground. 

“See all that land out there,” Joel whispered, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “That’s all mine, darlin’, and I’m gonna make sure you remember that by the time I’m through with you.”

“Tyin’ me up and fuckin’ me ain’t gonna change my mind,” you scoffed. 

“Guess I’m just gonna have to fuck some sense into you.”

Joel’s hands worked down your body, making quick work of undoing your shorts and shoving them down to your boots. The hot, sticky summer air breezed over your bare skin, hardly helping to soothe the painful ache between your thighs. Thick, calloused fingers massaged the skin of your hips, kneading your supple curves as you writhed against his touch. You could beg him for more, and oh god, did you want to. You wanted to cave and relinquish everything just to quell the burning pleasure inside your body, but you wouldn’t beg. Not for Joel Miller or any other man. 

Joel swiped a finger through your drenched folds, tutting at your pliancy. The brief touch alone was enough to spark stars behind your eyes, your breath growing shallow.

“Well, would ya’ look at that,” Joel tutted. “You’re soakin’ my fingers, darlin’.”

You refused to say a word, too afraid you’d succumb to your own devices. You wouldn’t ask him to fuck you, but Jesus Christ, you fucking needed it. Every fiber of your being cried for release, and if it meant you had to be tied up and fucked in front of the yellow fields in front of you, then that’s what you’d do. 

“I’ll give you one last chance,” Joel offered. “Say this land is mine and I’ll let you go.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, no doubt a mess after being on your knees before him. There was a cruelty in his eyes that alarmed you, but you were too focused on what you needed, even to feel afraid. 

“This is my land,” you stated, your chin held high. “S’my family’s land and it’s gonna stay that way ‘til I’m in my grave.”

“Wrong fuckin’ answer.”

Joel knocked your legs apart, the denim of his jeans dragging against your slick arousal. There was a moment where there was absolutely nothing, a vacancy of sound or touch that deprived your senses. Maybe you were teetering on the edge of delirium, too far gone to know what he was doing behind you, but then you felt everything. The thick head of his cock brushed against your entrance, rubbing between your silken folds in tantalizing strokes. That was the only warning he gave before pushing himself deeper, splitting you open inch by inch. You cried out as your body worked to stretch around his length, and your vision blackened as the sharp pain of the sensation jolted through your veins. 

“Fuck!” You screamed. 

The adjustment to his size was agonizing despite how wet you were. Nothing could have prepared you for the way Joel broke you open, nor was there anything that could have prepared you for how brutal he would become. Thrust after thrust, he assaulted you, completely breaking you and molding you to his cock. The pull of the rope burnt the skin of your wrists as he took you harder, your body lurching against the restraints with each snap of his hips. Joel tugged your body backward, shifting your legs until you were forced to bend at the waist. Words wouldn’t form on your lips, and you dissolved into a heap of wailing cries as he plunged deeper into you. 

“Where’s all that loudmouthin’ now?” Joel grunted, his fingers bruising your hips. “So fuckin’ cock drunk y’can’t even speak?”

Your silence only drove him crazier, his speed quickening mercilessly. The ache inside your core was all-consuming, a burning wildfire inside your stomach. You dropped your head between your shoulders and dug your nails into your palms, keeping yourself grounded. 

“Joel,” you gasped. “Please.”

You failed in your attempts not to beg this man, throwing everything to the wayside as you succumbed to the pulsing ache between your legs. 

“Shut up, brat,” he snapped. 

“Joel!” You sobbed. “I’m gonna—fuck—please. I need to—to…”

The words turned to ash on your tongue as he snaked a hand around your body, his fingers drawing circles over your swollen clit. You yelped at the roughness of his fingers, the sensation alone nearly causing your legs to buckle beneath you. If it weren’t for the ropes holding you firmly in place, you would have fallen to the ground. 

“Poor thing,” he crooned in your ear. “Y’wanna cum? Is that what you want?”

Another drive of his hips. Another draw of his fingers. Tormenting movements that kept you on the edge of ecstasy and suffering. Your arousal pooled down your inner thighs, mixing with the sticky sweat that clung to every inch of your skin. 

“I need it, Joel,” you gasped. “Christ, please!”

“Y’gonna change your mind?”

“N—.”

Joel pinched your clit between his fingers, and your words drowned out under a helpless wail falling from your lips. He pulled you back by your hair, winding it around his fist as he drew his lips down your neck. The sweltering touch of his mouth on your skin and his rough fingers on your sensitive bud were enough to topple you closer to the edge. The furnace igniting inside your stomach wouldn’t stop any time soon, but you still wouldn’t give up. He was always going to be wrong, and you’d rather die than give him the satisfaction. 

“Say it, darlin’. Say the words, and y’can cum all over my cock.”

“Never,” you panted. “Never gonna—.”

He pistoned into you, his cock spearing deeper and deeper, completely paralyzing you. Sobs wracked through your body as you took every thrust, and your mind began to float off into a blissed-out haze that drowned out the noise behind you. 

“Gonna own all this fuckin’ land,” Joel gritted out. “Own it just like I own this fuckin’ pussy.”

Please. Please. You weren’t sure if you repeated the words inside your mind or aloud; either way, Joel only huffed a laugh and continued with his repetitive assaults on your body. Your orgasm began barreling toward you, your core fluttering around him as it sparked beneath your skin. Everything inside you tensed up, and your jaw went slack with an outward cry as you slipped under the rapid release coursing inside your body. 

“Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “Fuck… fuck… fuck!”

Your sex clenched around Joel so hard he choked on a breath, his body rigid against yours as you spasmed beneath his hold. Hot, wet streams of your orgasm drenched his cock as he tore through your orgasm with shallow thrusts. Jole rammed into you over and over again until another wave of pleasure slammed into your body. 

“Fuckin’ brat,” he hissed. “Never said y’could cum, did I?”

His hand vanished from your waist and returned to the welted skin of your ass with a resounding smack. There wasn’t enough air in your lungs to cry out, nor any more tears to shed. You hung against the ropes, limp and pliant, as he took you with abandon. 

With another snap of his hips against yours, Joel spilled into you, his release filling you to the brim as he released a carnal groan. You could barely lift your head to look back at him as he untangled his fingers from your hair and pulled away. 

Every atom inside your body was pulsing with overstimulation, your ass welted and bruised, and your throat raw from screaming. The constant thrum of your heartbeat in your ears smothered the sound of Joel’s belt buckle clanging together, the warmth of his body far removed from yours as you stood on tired legs. Moments passed without a single touch, and you wondered if Joel would leave you there tied to the rack and dripping with cum. 

“Think y’learned your lesson now?” He asked, his voice sounding far away. 

All you could do was wag your head in protest, your eyes pinned down to the floor, fixated on the pool of saliva that had fallen from your lips. Joel appeared beside you, his grey hair dissolved and face red from exertion. He worked at unclasping the rope from the hook, unbinding your wrists until your arms fell limp to your sides. Your body was weightless without the stability of the rope, and you fell forward, anticipating the impact against the cement. Joel was quicker, though, winding a strong arm around your front and holding you up. 

“Easy now, darlin’,” he whispered softly. “Easy.”

Your fingers wrapped around his arm, clinging to anything to escape the impending collapse of your entire body. Your boots scruffed against the cement of the stall, kicking dust into the air around you. With his arm still braced around your chest, he used the other to guide your shorts back up your legs and onto your hips. You hissed as the denim rubbed against your ass, the swell of your skin still prickling with pain no matter how brief the touch was. 

“Can y’stand on your own?” He asked. 

“Mhmm,” you mumbled.

“Attagirl.”

Yet as he released your body, you staggered forward, grasping onto the tie rack for support. Joel waited until you found your balance and offered a hand. You were hesitant but relented silently. He took your wrists in one large hand and began massaging at the reddened skin, working out any tension left from the rope. You stared blankly at him, watching a crease burrow between his eyebrows. You still hated him, right? Right? Something so minimal shouldn’t make your heart pound against your chest, but there you were, speechless as you watched this rough man touch your skin with a tenderness he had yet shown. 

“Suns goin’ down soon,” he muttered, nodding to the sky. 

You peered over your shoulder, surprised to see the sun dipping over the horizon. You hadn’t noticed the pinky hue of the sunset while he fucked you, but now you stared at it in wonderment. 

“Guess it is,” you sighed. “Y’should get your ass off my property ‘fore it gets too late.”

Joel snorted, glancing up at you through thick lashes. In the dwindling sunlight, his eyes had dissolved from onyx back into a glistening amber color, the flecks of rich brown dancing as he looked at you. 

“Stubborn lil’ thing,” he huffed. 

He dropped your hands and straightened to his full height. Perspiration coated his button-up, staining it in dark spots as excess beats of sweat still rolled down his muscular neck. You tamed the flyaways of your hair, trying to minimize the obscenity of your look the longer he stood before you. It was no use after what he had done. 

“Y’ain’t changin’ your mind, huh?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. 

Joel rolled his eyes and shoved a hand into his front pocket. Leaning close, he brought his other hand to your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers brush over your cheek before pulling away. 

“Guess I’ll just come back tomorrow and try again.”

“Y’come back here tomorrow, and I’ll shoot you dead, Miller.”

He cracked a grin and began to retreat toward his horse beside the stable. You stood motionless as he mounted the brown mare, slipping the reigns between his hands. Joel gave you a farewell wave before taking off across the flowing fields, his broad figure dissolving into the sunset. You slumped against the wall of the stables, letting your body fall to the ground. A smile slid across your face, taking in the open land before you. 

You didn’t give up. It was all still yours.

[navluvr]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 [e.williams]

pairing ellie williams x fem!reader (exes to lovers)

synopsis when you father hires your ex to be his farmhand, you're left with less and less self control as the days pass, always keeping an eye on the aurburn-haired girl that had stolen your heart years ago

warnings kinda shitty pacing bc i was rushing to get this out, ooc!ellie (maybe idk), not edited very well, heavy kissing, mentions of alcohol

wc 2.7k

note i've had this in the works for over a year now and was originally supposed to publish this on my old blog but oh well...anyway alexa play 'save a horse (ride a cowboy)' by big & rich

the weather was unforgiving.

scorching sun rays beat down on the farm, baking the golden dead grass and drying out the small creek on the outskirts of the perimeter. it was rather unusual for a jackson summer. and it did nothing but inflate your attraction toward the woman who currently hauled large hay bales into the barn.

dressed in a pair of low-rise jorts, her typical high-top converse, and a cream wife-beater, ellie wiped sweat from her forehead with a scowl, face twisted in the bright light. the rise of her arm lifted her shirt, exposing a sliver of the toned abdomen she hid most days. as she caught your eye, spotting you peeking at her from behind the book you were trying to busy yourself with, she sent a cheeky smile, enjoying the way you scurried to cover your face with the novel.

you preoccupied yourself on the back porch, trying and failing to focus on the words that swam on the page of your book. the wicket lounge chair was stiff and the towel under you itched your back, rubbing against the skin that wasn’t covered by the skimpy bikini you had chosen to wear in favor of the hot weather. yet it wasn’t the weather that made you flush and squirm restlessly, your focus settled elsewhere.

“what’re you readin’?”

brows shooting to your hairline, you glanced up at ellie, who had approached without you realizing.

she licked her chapped lips in anticipation, silhouette blocking out the sun.

shaking your head, you sat up straight. “nothing good, to be honest,” you said, avoiding her heavy gaze by flipping the novel over and pretending to look over the back.

she nodded, peeling off the carhartt gloves she wore. reaching for the iced lemonade on the small table next to you, she said before drinking, “so then it’s not one of the smutty books that you enjoy. got it.”

you coughed at her words, choking on your own saliva with widened eyes. perhaps i misheard her, you thought immediately, swallowing down more sputters and croaking out a rough, “what?”

ellie peered at you with a look of amusement. she was certain she had been clear, but that didn’t stop her from repeating her point. “the books you like to read. they’re all just smut. is this one not?”

heart thumping against your ribcage, you gulped. “no.”

even to you it sounded like a shitty lie.

“‘no’…?” she drawled, eyebrows raising with skepticism.

“they’re not all smut, ellie,” you told her defensively, face scrunching as you stiffened on the chair.

the woman in front of you looked mildly unconvinced, but she shrugged regardless. “whatever you say, babe.” 

growing uninterested in the novel you were reading thanks to ellie, you set it on the small table beside the chair and watched the woman as she chugged the rest of her drink. “don’t you think it’s a little…inappropriate to call me that?”

ellie set down her glass, fisting her gloves in a hand before crossing her arms above her chest. for a split second you could see a glimpse of the woman you used to call your girlfriend. that is until she fucked you over and confessed that she thought she had feelings to dina. now look at her—single and working as a farmhand on your father’s farm. call it karma or fate, you didn’t know, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like her reappearance in your life.

“no,” she started, her eyes gleaming with defiance, “i don’t think it’s inappropriate. i call everyone that.”

there was no hiding the clear confusion on your face as you sat up and said, “no, you definitely don’t. pet names were never really your thing, els.”

“well, maybe i’ve changed. we haven’t seen each other in awhile, you know. a lot can happen.” her words sounded indolent, showing no effort to be convincing.

scoffing, you rolled your eyes and swung your legs over the edge of the chair. “whatever. i’m going inside, it’s too hot out here.”

“you going to the party tonight?” ellie asked abruptly, her indifferent facade shedding like old skin. “the one being held in the dancehall?”

you gripped the edge of the furniture, angling your head to look up at her. she wants me to go, you realized quickly. that desperate expression of hers made it quite obvious. “of course i’m going.”

it wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth. you hadn’t intended on going until she said something.

at your response, she nodded, beginning to put her gloves back on. “i guess i’ll see you there then.”

“i suppose so.”

she arrived at your door at 7 p.m. sharp.

and, hell, she looked sharp.

the way her brown button up-flannel molded perfectly with her lean figure, faded jeans accentuating the acute curve of her hips, the stressed ends brushing against the dark brown of her cowboy boots. you were practically drooling at her exposed forearms, long sleeves rolled to her elbows. and, of course, the cherry on top had to be the black cowboy hat decorating the crown of her head, shading her face from the sinking sun behind her.

you mentally cursed your father for hiring ellie williams. 

“what’re you doing here?” you asked keenly, adjusting your stance in the doorway.

she looked at you as if you had said something in another language, trying (and failing) to not look down at the small top and pajama shorts you wore . “i’m here to pick you up. figured you wouldn’t want to go to the party alone.”

you stared at her for a moment. she was right, of course. parties had never really been your idea of fun. the only time you ever went was when one of your friends could talk you into going. “come in, then. i need to finish getting dressed; shouldn’t take too long.”

ellie stepped inside cautiously, gingerly removing her hat and placing it on a nearby hook, like she was waiting for you to change your mind about the whole thing. but you didn’t, only shutting the door behind her and gesturing for her to follow you up the steps and into your bedroom. somewhere she had been oh-so-many times before the breakup.

the arid air was filled with tension, so thick that a knife would have to roughly saw its way through just to slice it.

you played off your uncomfort by sitting at your vanity calmly (definitely not forgetting that ellie had built this piece of furniture for you as a present for a past birthday), and grabbed the already-open tinted lip balm. the tin was cool in your palm as you dipped your finger in and then applied the sweet salve to your puckered mouth.

ellie watched from afar, unsure of where she should be as she waited, not wanting to break a boundary. if there even were boundaries to be broken.

she watched you diligently, eyes never leaving your mouth. she couldn’t help but gulp when you turned to her expectantly, asking her, “do i look fine?”

“you look as party-ready as you’ll ever be.” what she really wanted to say was, you look better than ‘fine.’ you always have, though she held her tongue reluctantly.

you gave her a curt nod, somewhat disappointed by her dry-ass remark. whatever. you’d mess with her later, after you’ve had a few drinks perhaps.

so, dropping the lip product into a drawer, you stood, pushing the stool back under the vanity before walking over to your wardrobe. the faded red wood had once gleamed when golden hour would come around, but with time its shine had dulled and the cabinet doors squeaked.

with a heavy breath, you sighed and pulled the round handles, exposing a plethora of clothes. as your eyes scanned your dresses, an idea sparked in your mind. you looked over your shoulder, finding ellie’s neutral gaze. “come pick out something for me to wear.”

her eyebrows flickered upward, slightly startled by your request. “but wouldn’t that be-”

“be what?” you interrupted, feigning a confused expression. “i’m just asking you to pick out a dress for me.”

the corners of ellie’s mouth turned south, and you ignored her when she muttered, “you didn’t ask, you demanded.”

you stepped out of her way, giving her the space to go through her options. however you didn’t miss the way she licked her lips, once again glancing at your pajama-clad figure before turning her attention to the open wardrobe.

the room was quiet, energy shifting ever so slightly from awkward to familiar. tension changing into something a little more…enticing as you waited for her decision regarding your outfit.

there was no hiding your smile when she pulled out a plain black mini dress with thin spaghetti straps, its neckline low. ellie had fucked you in that dress way too many times to count; it aroused something low in your stomach.

“good choice,” you teased, grabbing the article of clothing from her.

her expression heeded no hint as to what she was feeling, but with many years spent by her side, you had some idea of her internal gay panic. she could only hide it so well around the people who knew her best.

you placed the dress on your bed before dropping your pajama shorts to the floor, provoking a sharp inhale from the auburn-haired woman behind you.

“what the hell?!” ellie immediately seethed, her eyes averting your body as she spun to face your wardrobe.

you scoffed before ridding yourself of your shirt as well, suddenly feeling even more pleased with yourself for not wearing a bralette. “oh please, you’ve seen my body too many times to count.” rolling your eyes, you grabbed the dress and slipped it on, thankful for the absent zipper that was often prominent in similar pieces.

ellie eventually gave in and turned around, vaguely relieved to see that you now had something covering your body. she was unsure of what she would have done had you stayed undressed for an extended amount of time, her hands itching to run their familiar course on your bare figure.

“are you done staring?” you asked her ardently, adjusting the fabric of the dress as you narrowed your gaze at her.

“yes.” her answer was clipped, yet you didn’t say anything further. she was determined to avoid your jarring gaze.

you raised your chin slightly, observing her for a split second. her hands fisted and flexed by her sides, although she was definitely trying to hide it. she was dying for makeup sex just as you were. however there was no way you were going to let her know that, at least not right now. you wanted to manage to get out of the house first: wanted to see if her nerves would die out and be replaced with the cockiness she sported like armor.

“let’s go then,” you finally said, “don’t want to keep people waiting.”

ellie nodded curtly, making no fuss as she followed you out of the room and down the flight of stairs, her boots clacking with each step.

when you reached the bottom, you reached for your own set of boots by the door, their cream color worn with each wear. you pulled them on as ellie grabbed her hat, opened the door for you, and dramatically held her arm out.

unable to hide an amused grin, you linked your elbow with hers, letting her guide you out of the house and to shimmer, who grazed on a plot of grass by the front porch. as ellie untied the reins and pulled herself up, you watched the way her body moved fluidly and adjusted her person on the western-style saddle.

she offered her hand, lips pulling into a charming smile. “come on, sweet girl.”

trying to suppress your grin, you grabbed her hand and placed your foot in a stirrup, a little too eager for the feel of ellie’s strong back against your front.

“just sit and look pretty, i’ll be right back.”

ellie had left to go grab drinks from the bar almost the second the two of you had entered the dancehall. and you were thankful, unsure that you’d be able to keep up your teasing facade without a little bit of something in your system.

when you spotted her, two red cups in hand, you exhaled heavily, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking your drink. you didn’t waste any time before downing the brown liquid that burned all the way down your throat.

“hey, take it easy, baby,” ellie remarked, concern etching her features. she eased the cup from your hands, her eyebrows furrowed with faint worry. “there’s plenty of time to get drunk; no need to rush.”

as you swallowed the last bit of booze-flavored saliva on your tongue, you shifted ineptly. there went your attempt to spur your courage. great.

“ellie,” you said cautiously, eyes glued to the cluster of bodies on the dance floor and trying to ignore the way your breath was growing uneven. you toyed with the locket around your neck, mustering what bravery you had hidden.

“yes?”

“i think coming here, together, was a bad idea.”

your words had struck something in the woman next to you, and you watched from your peripheral as she tried to understand your statement. ellie looked wounded. a simple ‘why?’ was all she could manage to convene, the cups in her hands crinkling ever so slightly.

gaze finally sliding to meet hers, you said, “because all i’ve wanted to do since you showed up at my doorstep was kiss you.”

there was no telling where you had gotten the balls to say something so blunt, but boy did it feel good. you had missed ellie a lot, and you somehow managed to miss her even more the day your father had hired her as his farmhand. maybe it was because, while she had appeared in your life once more (after nearly a year of her staying in jackson), she wasn’t in your life; you were lucky if a conversation flowed between your awkward persons, still trying to make out what you were to one another. 

“fuck,” ellie drawled, turning her back to the crowd. she shoved the drinks onto a nearby table, her stature tense. “you can’t just say things like that.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, moving closer to her. “why not?” your voice was unintentionally low.

ellie’s eyes, blazing like green fire, found yours. she turned to face you, hot breath mingling with yours as you exhaled in anticipation of her words.

“because it makes me want to do more than just kiss you.”

without thinking, you grabbed the front two belt loops of her jeans, not wasting a moment to second guess anything, and pulled her front against yours, lips instantly crashing with hers. as you fervently kissed ellie, her hands settling on your love handles, you hummed in satisfaction. this is exactly what you wanted—and you had wanted it from the moment she started working on your family’s farm.

ellie’s mouth moved against yours, just as desperate as you felt. when she pulled away, her breath heavy, she muttered, “let’s take this somewhere else.”

you nodded, dazedly staring at her lips before she grabbed your hand and turned, leading you both through the maze of people. your thoughts were muddled in your mind, too entranced by the situation to notice that she had led you, hurriedly at that, to the bathroom. she pushed open the door, ushering you inside, with a hand on the curve of your spine.

before you could even utter a word, some chippy remark you’d already forgotten, ellie was on you.

“was this your plan all along?” she asked, her breath fanning over the skin of your jawline, body caging you against the counter of the sink. “to mess with me until i snapped and gave in?”

swallowing thickly, consumed by the feeling of ellie’s hands and mouth, you let out a strained whine. your fingers found the strands of hair at her nape, tugging as if to answer her question. yes, obviously.

a guttural sound left her throat at your wordless response, her fingers trailing down, searching for the place she knew you wanted her most. but just as she dipped her hand under the hem of your panties, your skin hot under her touch, she leaned in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“you’re going to have to earn whatever it is you want.”

© navluvr 2024 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[desert--moonchild]

Buck frowned as he walked in the front door.  The house was much darker than it normally was for Tommy being home.  He double checked the time on his phone, it was only 7 PM but with it being winter time the sun had already long gone down behind the horizon.

“Tommy?” He called out as he kicked his shoes off by the front door and set his duffel bag down on the stairs.  His truck had been out front so Buck knew he was home, and he’d responded to his “want me to pick up dinner?” text.  As he walked into the kitchen to put down the bag of take out he saw the glow of the TV reflecting through the back of the house.  He raised an eyebrow and went to investigate.  

Tommy was sitting on the floor staring intently at the TV, clearly caught in his own world as Buck let out a slight cough and it didn’t even phase him.  He walked closer until he could see what was actually on the TV when he let out a startled laugh and Tommy jumped nearly a foot in the air with a curse.

“Are you playing Stardew Valley?”

“JESUS— shit, Evan, holy crap…” Tommy swore, sprawled out across the floor with a hand on his heaving chest the PlayStation controller still gripped tightly in his other hand.  His foot had ended up on top of their coffee table which made Buck double over in laughter even more.

Tommy sat up slowly after calming his breath muttering about throwing out his back and pulled himself onto the couch pausing the game and setting the controller on the table to run a hand through his hair.  He looked up at Buck pointedly.  

“You done yet?”

Buck collapsed down onto the couch next to him, wiping away the tears that had formed and calmed his own breathing but he still couldn’t keep the shit eating grin off his face.  “I’m done.”

“What are you already doing home?”  Tommy asked, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. 

Buck snorted.  “Tommy, babe, I’m two hours late.  It’s almost nine.  Just how long have you been playing?”

Tommy groaned and covered his eyes while Buck just grinned wildly at him and reached for the controller to unpause the game.  

“Oh my god, you’re already halfway through summer?  Tommy, that's like seven hours of gameplay.  What happened to this game being ‘silly’  and ‘boring’?” Buck laughed as he walked around Tommy’s farm.  

The man already had a chicken coop and a barn.  The chickens and cows were both milling around the fields and his crops.  His crops were way more organized then Buck’s had been the first time he’d played the game with Chris.

He walked up to one of the brown chickens. 

Hen looks really happy today!

“Aww that's cute.” Buck cooed and Tommy sank lower on the couch and covered his face with his hands.

Another chicken walked out of the grass, another brown one. 

Chimney looks really happy today!

“Oh my god tell me you didn’t—” Buck giggled and went for another one of the chickens.  

Eddie looks really happy today!

Buck started wheezing, his laughs now coming out in high pitched giggles as the chicken came waddling towards him.  

Maurice looks really—

Buck doubles over again in laughter, tears actually streaming from his eyes as his lungs start to hurt.  Tommy wrestles the controller away from him looking embarrassed again but even his lips are twitching upwards as Buck continues to wheeze.   

“Alright, alright laugh it up,” he said, rolling his eyes with a small chuckle of his own as he pulled Buck towards him in a tight hug.  Buck leaned into the hug his body still shaking with laughter and right as he finally settled down again he caught sight of the pause screen showing Tommy’s little farmer at Harbor Farm with his dog Evan—

And he keeled over again in hysterics.  

[lulunothulu]

“So you think I’m hot?” Pt. 3

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: After nursing you to health, Tyler finally makes a move on you…and you may or may not want to accept it

Contents: some swearing, some blood, and LOTS of fluff

Word count: idk but I think it’s long 😂

Catch up here: Part 1!! Part 2!!

“Y/N!” You hear Kate call from outside. “Are you okay in there?”

You’d fallen asleep after Tyler brought you back to your hotel room. Did Tyler ever leave? If he did, you weren’t going to be able to open the door for Kate. You’re about to panic when you realize there’s something heavy on your stomach.

Not something…someone.

Fuck.

You turn to your left to find a sleeping Tyler cuddled up against you, an arm draped on your stomach the other under your head.

“Y/N, if you can’t get up let us know,” you hear Javi say. “We got an extra key from downstairs.”

FUCK.

“I’m fine!” You yell, startling Tyler but not waking him. “I have crutches but I’m just resting! You guys go on and get data from yesterday’s tornado.”

“Are you sure?” Kate asks.

“Yes!”

“Okay, well text us if you need anything,” you hear her say before their footsteps fade away.

You sigh, turning to Tyler who’s wide awake and smiling at you.

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” you say.

“So I’m a beauty now?” He teases.

“I swear to god Tyler it’s too early for this shit.” You smile.

Tyler only smiles at you, just staring.

“What?” You ask, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Nothing,” he tells you, crossing his arms behind his head. His biceps bulge in the long-sleeved flannel, making your heart flutter.

Why did that make you wanna touch them?

Tyler notices the way you stare at him and smirks, pumping his bicep muscles in a playful manner. You clear your throat and begin to get off the bed, forgetting about your leg.

“Ow, fuck,” you seethe, your breath hitching in pain.

Tyler sits up in bed, scrambling to your side of the bed before squatting before you.

“Are you okay?” His green eyes searching yours for more signs of pain. “Do you need some pain killers?”

The way his hands hold your right leg makes you feel all tingly inside, the way he looks at you doesn’t help. He’s waiting for you to tell him what’s wrong, worry etched on his handsome face. Even the way his hair, normally styled to perfection, is now all messy seems to do things to you.

Warm and fuzzy feelings begin to form around your heart and you can feel the annoyance you once had for him, melt away.

It’s making you want to do something reckless.

“I’m fine, Tyler,” you tell him. “I forgot about my injury.”

His eyes calm, softening on you before he nods and sniffles.

“You’ve never called me by my first name,” he says softly.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

You stare at one another for a few seconds that feel like hours. The longer you stare, the more you realize how attracted to him you are.

Fuck this is gonna be a problem.

“Do you need me to help you change the bandages?” He asks, clearing the silence.

You nod, handing him the wrapping on the nightstand.

Very carefully, Tyler removes the bandage around your thigh. Concentration fills his facial expression, brows furrowed and tongue out. He stops when you suck in a breath, head jolting to face you.

“Sorry, it’s still kinda tender,” You apologetically tell him.

He smiles up at you before continuing with the dressing.

“So where are you from?” He asks.

You grit your teeth in pain before answering, “Originally, Chicago. I grew up in Tennessee though.”

“What brought you to Tennessee?” He continues.

You realize he’s trying to keep you distracted from the pain and flash him a thankful smile. “My parents wanted to reconnect with nature. They have a little ranch out there.”

“What got you into tornadoes?” He asks, now finishing up with the bandaging.

“There was a really bad tornado,” you whisper. “My family’s farm was destroyed. I think I was eight at the time.” You chuckle. “My Mom was screaming for me to get away from the windows but all I wanted to do was stare up at this beautiful tornado. It was so surreal, it looked like the one from the Wizard Of Oz.”

You smile at the memory. “Mom was so mad when I turned to her and said ‘Look mom, it’s so pretty’.”

Tyler chuckles, hands still on your thigh, lightly caressing the skin below the bandage.

“What about you?” You ask. “What got you into chasing?”

“When I was a kid, I was driving with my aunt,” he starts, smiling at his own memory. “This beautiful cyclone just crossed our path and I couldn’t help but stare. It was gorgeous.”

He laughs before looking down at your leg.

“I was so entranced by it, I didn’t realize my aunt was screaming bloody murder. She was absolutely terrified.”

“Where you?” You ask. “Terrified?”

He looks up at you, the sight of him still kneeling before you making you warm.

“I was.”

Without thinking, you lean forward, placing your hands on Tyler’s shoulders.

They’re warm, muscular.

You snake your hands up his neck, resting on either side of his face. You brush your thumbs on his cheeks and back to his ears, watching as Tyler’s eyes roll to the back of his head and his eyelids flutter.

You didn’t know what came over you to do that. You felt the urge to do it so you did it.

When his eyes open again, you smile at him. Genuinely and thankful.

“Thank you,” you start, whispering as if someone would hear you. “For helping me.”

Tyler leans forward, just inches from your lips. His head was tilted up, waiting for you to finish crossing the line you dangled right before him.

“You’re welcome, darling,” he whispers right back.

You open your legs, scooting forward to have him between you. Arms wrap around your waist as Tyler pulls you close, careful not to touch your bad leg. You hold on tightly, wrapping your arms around Tyler’s neck as he lifts you.

You’re so close now, you wanted to kiss him. This was nothing like you’d ever imagined. Never mind with him.

For the few months you’d known him, you wanted to strangle him. But maybe it was just your mind trying to make sure you don’t fall for him. After all, he was your type.

Tall, handsome, rugged, and absolutely annoyingly reckless.

“Tyler,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I would really like to kiss you,” you tell him truthfully.

“Me too.”

“But I’m in so much pain.”

He quickly says you down, still holding you by the waist. “I’m sorry.”

You smile, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Try again in a week when I’m healed.”

He smiles down at you, leaning close and kissing your cheek.

“Deal.”

A/N: Okay yes, I’m gonna have a part 4 bc they NEED to kiss 😂

Next part!!!

[inkdrinkerworld]

May I request a Cowboy!James x reader where R is sick but trys to push through it and help out around the farm so she doesn't tell James but randomly when they're feeding the horses (Its a cold day) she passes out because she's got a really bad fever and she hasn't been eating properly because of how ill she feels

You probably should’ve told James that you hadn’t been feeling well.

Your room hadn’t had enough heating last night and the first chill of autumn was rolling in all night. You’re susceptible to the change in weather and you should’ve really really said something when you’d woken up.

“I’ll clean with the horses and organize the feed for them.” You say to James but you’re sluggish and the coffee you’d had earlier hasn’t kicked in yet.

You don’t think it will.

Snowglobe and Landslide are easy to deal with, older and much calmer than some of the fillies and colts.

Some of them buck and give you a bit of attitude when you’re brushing through their coats and mane but you get through it before your first wave of nausea hits.

“Fuck,” you groan, wondering if you should call James or if you can manage.

You swallow hard and push through. You already feel like enough of a burden to him now that you’re in your off months- there’s only a month again till TSG is ready to reopen for Winter- you’re not gonna shrink away from this.

You’re halfway through feeding the horses when you wobble. There’s a cold sweat breaking out on your upper lip and your heels feel like they’re off the ground.

“I’m coming Snowglobe.” You murmur, reaching for the bucket of feed to put in the feedbox when you feel unsteady. You feel like you’re floating before you hit the ground.

“Hey, darling, you’re scaring me.” You’re not sure how long you’ve been on the floor but James had your head in his lap and his hand cupping your face.

“I’m sorry, I never fed Snowglobe.” James chuckles, Snowglobe’s laying next to you, head at your side.

James had actually found the horse nudging at your side. “I think he’s more worried about you, darling.”

You reach a hand to him, Snowglobe’s nose butting your palm. “Why didn’t you say you weren’t well?” James keeps his hand on your forehead and neck; you’re burning up and from the wetness on your shirt you have been for hours.

“Thought I could do everything and then crash.”

James sighs, “How’d you get a fever, darling? Slept with wet hair again?”

You shake your head and nibble on your lip. You’re afraid James will be upset but you can’t lie when he asks you a question straight up.

“The heating in my room is busted, so I opened the window and the cold air really fucked me up.”

He groans, his lips to your forehead. “Silly girl,” James helps you sit up and pushes Snowglobe’s head away from you. “Could’ve just came into my room.”

You nod, “Sorry for getting ill Jamie.”

He only rolls his eyes, “I’m not upset. You can’t help it. Let’s go inside, I can make some soup for you.”

You smile, leaning into him as you stand on swaying legs. “And a grilled cheese?”

James laughs, “If you want to chicken soup and grilled cheese you’ll get it. You can take a bath while I fix everything up.”

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

[bruciemilf]

Need a no capes! AU where Clark is Just A Guy trying to help his folks keep their farm going. It’s not easy under the Luthors.

Having to sell their property rights because their farm is on a purchased land wasn’t an easy choice. But if Clark knows something, is that Kents don’t go down easy.

Once Thomas Wayne buys it from Luthor Senior, — Clark doesn’t know the specifics; He just heard the words “old college teammate” and “lost bet” and “fuck you, John” and put it together.

So, Thomas Wayne buys their farm. They have peace, for a while.

Except one day the man himself knocks on Clark’s apartment, switchblade smile bright and fraudulent. Clark quickly learns Thomas Wayne can either be your best friend, or your biggest fear.

“It’s really nothin’ personal,” Thomas shrugs. Maybe, to him, it’s a good apology. “Luthor just found out some…Nasty lies about me. And it’d really affect the cancer research fundraiser if they got out. “

People don’t fear lies, Clark thinks.

“So, your daddy ain’t answering me, and your mom threw a bottle at me when I went over there, so I figured you’re my last resort. I can’t buy if they ain’t sellin’, son.”

“We don’t appreciate being bought, Mr. Wayne.”

“Right, but the other alternative would be kicking ya’ll out on the street, and it’d make me feel like a real asshole,”

You already are, Clark wants to say, but decides it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“ So we have two options: Either you sell me the farm and everyone’s happy; Or you get the best bed at Gotham’s homeless shelter. I’m sorry, Clark. Really.”

He swallows an angry gulp. World’s strongest man and he can’t help but feel such sorrowful helplessness. “And what’s option 3?”

Thomas knows that’s a challenge, and knows Clark has a right to it. Something just clicks in the man’s eyes, thought. Clark isn’t sure he likes it. “Option number three…I deal with this my way. But you gotta do something for me.”

And that’s how Clark ends up babysitting infamously anonymous Bruce Wayne.

No paper touches him; He successfully evaded and escaped any journalist that ever approached, hunted, or tracked him down.

The man is awfully quiet, lilly pale skin glowing pink in Kansas sun. Clark studies the wide, impressive curve of his shoulders, surprisingly thick and strong for such a pretty thing.

The way his eyes are alert and focused and the color of watercolor rain. Mostly, he’s crushed by Bruce’s timidity. God, he’s so beautiful.

“Imma need a week and Brucie’s outta your hands faster than a devil in a church,” Thomas jokes, affectionately ruffling chestnut hair. Clark can see the resemblance, but not the relation. “You be good for Clark, ya hear?”

Bruce doesn’t give a verbal or physical answer. He seems awfully angry about something. He picks up his bags, storms past Clark and stomps off upstairs. He has a feeling this week will be hell for all of them.

“Well, you have fun! And Clark?” Thomas’ voice lowers, “You take care of my boy, now.”

“Oh, I will.”

It’s not a lie.

He’ll take care of Bruce so good he won’t ever want to leave.

[littlenightma]

Run, Rabbit, Run | Thomas Hewitt x Female!Reader (NSFW)

Author’s Note: *slams post button* Here you go, sluts *evil cackle*

Warning tags: Primal kink, chase kink, breeding kink, lots o’ smut.

The Texas sun kissed your sweat-soaked skin with a harsh pressure of a thousand blow torches. His heavy breathing and roaring of his chainsaw pushed you forward, to keep going no matter what stood before you, but the persistent throbbing between your legs teased the resilience of your rapidly depleting willpower.

Miles separated you from the farm house and separated you from the rest of civilization. Oceans upon oceans of rocky dirt, dying grass, and the occasional road kill were all that could be seen.

The radiating sun, which had been sitting proudly in the sky to the East, now sat lamely in the West beginning to hide beyond the horizon. The ivory moon would force away its suffocating heat, providing the barest of illumination, increasing your chances at escaping.

A small part of you wished the sun would stay out and light up the world just a little while longer.

“You’re so polite for someone your age. You remind me so much of my boy Thomas.”

“If he’s anything like you, ma’am, he has to be the sweetest boy around.”

He was a six foot tall mountain of muscle and power, running with the determination of a blood hound tracking the scent of a wounded animal. When you thought you had successfully outsmarted him by suddenly changing directions within the tall, golden thickets at the last second, he’d still be barreling after you, unphased, no further than he was before.

There were moments, fleeting as they were, but impressionable nonetheless, where he had been so close to getting a hold of you. So close, the slight breeze from his hand attempting to grab your hair raised your skin, sucking the breath from your chest as you narrowly dodge him.

And that made things even more thrilling.

His grunts of frustration were muffled by his mask and the tight curve of his bottom lip. The lip jutted out awkwardly and looked as if it had been stung by a bee the way it was swollen.

Deformed.

And this deformed man was coming after you.

To him you were an outsider. A pest that needed eradicating. Even though his Mama willingly invited you into their home, he made you feel as if you were trespassing anyway. He wanted to kill you then and you were sure as shit he wanted to now, probably more than ever seeing how you keep escaping him.

She’d had asked him to keep you alive so assuming that he’d follow through with her request, your life would be spared, but for what sick reason? Would death be more lenient than what they had planned for you?

Of all days for your tire to blow out…

“Here he comes now,” said the woman, smiling expectantly as the basement door opened and out from the darkened staircase came Thomas.

The boy, no man, stood protectively behind the older woman. He placed his hands on her shoulders, watching you with narrowed eyes that were partially covered by a curtain of black, curly hair. To you, they looked like snakes ready to strike, and so did he.

His nose and lower half of his face was covered by a worn, leather mask that wrapped around the base of his head with thick straps. It looked uncomfortable to wear as it was was to look at.

He was not pleased to see a stranger sitting in his living room and you wanted to sink deeper into the faded couch and disappear. Maybe if you pushed against the cushions hard enough.

A muffled scream came from the basement. Luda Mae glanced up at her son then back to you. Your back straightened.

“What was that?”

She smiled, yet it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Nothing, dear.”

Again, the basement door opened, and out came a man in a Sheriff’s uniform. Fresh blood splattered across his chest and arms, trickling down as he sauntered his way into the room.

“Who in the hell is this pretty thing?”

Time slowed down and so did your breathing. All three had you pinned with various stares ranging from curiosity, understanding, and searing contempt. You weren’t going to risk it. You jumped from the couch and hauled ass out the door, leaving a trail of dust behind.

“Son of a bitch,” said Hoyt. “Boy, go get her before she causes us any trouble.”

Luda Mae grabbed Thomas’ hand. “Keep this one alive, baby. She’ll be good one to have around.”

Thomas wanted to argue his Mama’s odd request, but the sweet smile she gave him and the gentle way she held his hand made him reconsider. He didn’t want her, that’s for damn sure, but whatever his Mama wanted, she’d get.

In the midst of your recollection you realized it was ominously quiet behind you. Peering back, he was no longer running after you. I’m fact, he wasn’t there at all.

You spun around, eyes frantically searching the desolate landscape. He didn’t just vanish into thin air, not a man of his size, yet he had. The weeds danced and suddenly parted, revealing him on all fours as he pushed himself off the ground, propelling into you with a gut-wrenching force, knocking you onto your back.

His full body weight had you pinned, flattening the dry brush beneath you. His barrel-chest heaved and his hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing. As frightened as you were, a strange sense of relief washed over and the instinct to raise your hips overtook you.

He tried moving away, but your legs locked him in. You awkwardly shimmied your shorts down and he watched you. His anger dissipated, replaced by hunger the more of your thighs he saw.

You captured his curious gaze, “Look how wet you made me.”

Your hand reached down and massaged your aching pussy through your sodden underwear. You were a mess, physically and mentally, and if you didn’t get fucked soon you were going to go rabid.

“Thomas, please. Don’t make me beg for it. You know what I want.”

Hearing his name revved him up like an engine. He could practically smell you through his mask. Your pussy glistened beneath the moonlight and he was more than willing to comply. With one hand still around your throat, he used the other to hastily unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

He roughly pushed your soaked panties aside and thrusted roughly inside you with a loud grunt. It was swift and had you not been as wet as you were you knew it would have hurt more than it did. You gasped and cried out, pounding your fist to the ground. He fucked you like an animal. It was exactly what you’d been yearning for and if felt so fucking good to finally get it.

His hips bucked with a mighty strength, sending you backwards every time. It made it hard for him to keep himself inside you without having to adjust his position. He scooped you up like a rag doll and pinned you against a tree, folding you between it and his body. The change in position was too much as the angle allowed him to reach new depths inside you, hitting spots you never knew you had, sending you over the edge.

Your climax arrived so suddenly that it left you silently shaking and clinging to Thomas. Your pussy clamped down like the jaws of a lion and he growled, spilling his seed inside you from the tightness.

He laid you both down on the ground with your back to him. You took the time to catch your breath and settle down, but Thomas had other plans. He raised your top leg in the air, spreading you wide and began pumping again.

“Slow, Thomas. I’m really sore.”

Not thinking he’d actually do as you asked, you were surprised at the gradual way he eased his thick cock back into your pussy, keeping a close eye on your face. Although you were too spent to cum again, you nestled back against his chest and idly enjoyed his thrusts.

“Just like that, Thomas. Oh…”

His head was right there and the temptation to kiss him was too good to pass up. Soft lips met his through the mask and he jerked back, stopping his movements altogether.

“God, don’t you stop, Thomas. Your cock is too good. Come back here.”

You wrapped an arm around his head and he let you bring him back down. This time he kissed back, licking and sucking your lips like they were made of chocolate. You were in absolute bliss, not thinking clearly, lost in a haze of euphoria.

With his mouth full of you and you full of him, he groaned a guttural sound that didn’t sound quite human. Your pussy took his second load with open arms, milking every last bit of him he had left to offer. You broke the sloppy kiss to watch his cock pulse and his balls twitch, finding it super erotic.

His cock left you open and wide. You clenched your walls and streams of his fresh cum gushed out. You swiped some and brought it to your lips with Thomas watching in clear fascination. You then offered your finger to him.

He titled his head and inspected the leftover fluid. After some time of pondering his tongue tentatively flicked out, considering the taste, then placed your entire finger in his mouth. He sucked until there was nothing left to suck except the saltiness of your skin.

Using the tree as a support, you carefully maneuvered up. Everything was sore, from your head down to your hips and the simple task of bending down seemed impossible. In an oddly sweet gesture, Thomas gathered your shorts and helped you put them back on.

“You know,” you began, eyes twinkling mischievously, “It’s a long way back to the house. Who knows what could happen on the way there.”

Thomas made a sound caught between a chuckle and a scuff. He watched you strut away, eyes glued to your bouncing ass.

His Mama was right. You were worth keeping around.

[swordsandholly]

Live in Five

Reporter Reader x Cameraman Kyle Garrick | Ao3

MDNI | NSFW | cw: sexism, almost car wreck, driving in blizzard, PiV sex, fingering, afab reader, consent checks, unprotected sex, barely edited

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: After your boss sends you and your cameraman out into a blizzard you find yourselves stuck in the snow in your news van. With no signal and no way to get the van out, the two of you have nowhere to go for the night. You have to entertain yourselves one way or another.

A/N: Y'all thank @mareiasereia for sending this ask that reminded me of this idea.

You sigh, looking down at your feet for the time being. As long as you can until you’re forced to stare into the sun behind the silhouetted camera. Cold wind bites at your cheeks, nearly seeping through the thick wool of your trench coat. You hate these winter outdoor broadcasts - can’t ever quite get used to the weather despite doing them for years now. It takes all your concentration to keep your teeth from chattering while you speak.

“How’s my hair?” You ask, squinting as you try to meet Kyle’s eye where he works on setting up his camera.

“Just perf- oh!” He jogs forward, gently tucking what you assume to be a stray piece back. “Perfect. As always.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks warming. He always manages to get you flustered, even after years of working together. You’d think you’d get used to it - the way his dark eyes focus in and the slight grit to his voice. Instead it infects you - pools at the base of your spine and gnaws at your concentration.

Kyle whistles at you, holding up a three.

You nod, adjusting your stance and clearing your throat.

Two.

One.

“Thanks, John.” You grin, meeting the camera’s ‘eye’. “The downtown winter festival is well underway. Everyone seems to be enjoying the festivities-”

You go through the normal song and dance. Kyle follows as you move closer to the wooden, painted entrance to the park for the vent. It’s nice this year, actually. The city sprung for a real artist to craft something interesting. Though, nothing will top that one time they let the local elementary school decorate it. It isn’t anything special, this story. Just the usual yearly coverage of the usual winter activities. You’ve done the festival for the past three winters - the first just after the station hired you. If it weren’t for the icy air on your cheeks you might enjoy it more.

Kyle cuts, lowering his camera and you sigh in relief. Even after all this time your cheeks still hurt from smiling for so many minutes straight while talking. At least you didn’t stutter at all. Or slip. You almost wiped out last year. That clip became more popular among the highschoolers than you might have liked.

“Great job, luv.” Kyle grins, giving you a supportive thumbs up.

You snort. “Thanks.”

“It’s so cold.” Kyle sighs as he packs up his camera carefully into it’s case. His hands are always so delicate. “I’m thinkin’ a coffee stop on the way back?”

You hum and glance at your watch. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Always so serious.”

“One of us has to be.”

“Think you’re mixin’ me up with Johnny, luv.”

“Oh, right.” You snicker.

The station you work for is small. Local. Buried in the back woods, covering a single populated town and the surrounding rural counties. Most of the news pertains to weather for the sake of farming, or livestock related accidents. The occasional violence makes its way onto the main, evening segment but generally it isn’t anything that can’t be covered in an article. That’s the other half of your job - updating articles and writing short columns about recent events. It’s not glamourous, but it’s still journalism. Plus, picking up the extra work boosts your pay and vacation time enough to make the job a little more worth it.

You watch from the side while John and Kate prepare for the serious evening news. The big, main anchors of the station. They might as well walk on water around here. Not that they act like it. They’re actually quite kind. Kate’s suits are always smart and often brightly colored. Her hair is always quaffed and you pray that your skin looks that good at her age. John… well, everybody loves John. Hard not to with that warm smile and those wide set shoulders.

“Can you drop these at my desk, sweetheart?” Philip pulls you from your daze. He smirks down at you in that twisted, snake-like way while holding out a file. “Since you’re headed that way.”

You frown. “I’m not your-”

“Thanks a lot.” He drops the papers, the last of your coffee sloshing as you just manage to catch them. Philip is easily the most insufferable asshole in this place. You curse the day you volunteered to move cubicles because it would put you closer to the tech guys. To Kyle. Now you’re sharing a wall with the human embodiment of liquid shit.

It’s not just him, really. Most of the men here don’t see you as anything important. Too young, too new to hold any weight around the station. The pretty, soft girl that does feel good, soft stories. A petting zoo. Some fluffy little thing for them to caress and coo at. You glance back at Kate. The men don’t mess with Kate. What does she do so differently?

It’s not that you mind doing fluff stories. Those are fine. You enjoy them, even. You’d rather spend your time talking about kids selling lemonade to fund their future college (still dystopian) or some dog that managed to save it’s owners life (still cool as hell.) You just wish they took you seriously. That you weren’t treated as lesser for it. Lesser for not wanting to be subjected to violent accidents and crimes that make your gut churn.

So, you do what you usually do when you want to slam your head through a wall, disappear into the tech room. After messily throwing the file on Philip’s desk, of course.

“Alright, darlin’?” Kyle leans back in his chair as you push through the door into the designated ‘bat cave.’

You nod silently, glaring at your feet as you flop down into the open editing bay. It’s nice in here. Calm. Separated from the main office. You feel like you can actually breathe in here.

“There’s my bonnie lass!” Johnny appears from the supply closet with his usual ear to ear grin. You don’t miss the extra pinkness of his lips - or the way Simon follows him out.

You glance over at Kyle who has turned back to his editing. You watch his hands as they move, his eyes locked in on the screen before him. Are you the only person in the world that follows rules? That does as they’re told? How come everyone else gets to break them?

It’s Friday. A massive blizzard blew in seemingly out of nowhere halfway through the work day. Your meteorologist practically scrambled to figure out what to report on and how long it might last. Roach, they call him, on account of that time he survived getting picked up and thrown by a tornado. Most people mutter about leaving early, some preemptively grabbing their coats. A few snuck out the back nearly an hour ago when the weather first started. You opted to hunker down and get some work done, considering the universe blessed you with a lack of Philip for the day.

The harsh utterance of your name has you snapping up, back straight and eyes wide. “Mr. Shepherd! Uh, how can I help you?”

The station owner steps into your cubicle, face as taught and stern as ever. He isn’t the one that hired you but part of your onboarding included a brief meeting with him. You hated every second - an inexplicable pressure building in your chest the entire fifteen minutes. It’s back now.

“There was a massive wreck on the highway. Fifteen cars, apparently.” Shepherd says. “I want you at the hospital giving updates for the site. Take your camera man, too.”

You blink up at him dumbly for a moment. “Sir, I don’t- In this weather? It’s a blizzard out there! We’d just be in the way-”

“It’s not a request.” Shepherd snaps, staring down at you with that bored, icy gaze that makes you desperately wish he had hair you could rip out. You know you have to, though. You’ve seen him fire people more important than you over lesser infractions.

“O-okay.” You murmur, hands balled into fists. Partially from anger, partially to keep them from visibly shaking. It isn’t right. It isn’t right that he’s putting you in this kind of unnecessary danger. Kyle, either. Oh, Kyle…

You drag your feet as you head to the tech room, heart dropping into your gut as you see him packing up and pulling on his thick bomber coat. Probably assumed you’d get to leave early, too. You should get to leave early. You should have ducked out an hour ago like the others. Why do you always follow the fucking rules?

“Hey, angel.” Kyle grins, smile dropping as soon as his eye meets yours. “What’s up?”

“Shepherd wants us to go to the hospital.” You swallow roughly to keep your voice from cracking. “Wants us to cover some big car wreck from there.”

“Tha’s so far from here!” Johnny gasps from his perch at the editing bay. “He cannae expect ye tae go out like this.”

“He can, apparently.” You mutter, staring at your feet. You want to say no. You want to give him an earful - to really lay into him about his sexist, careless attitude. Y’know, girlboss stuff or whatever. Whatever Kate would probably do. She wouldn’t take this laying down, belly up. Instead your hands shake and your eyes sting with frustrated tears. You can’t breathe right. It’s wrong. This is wrong. It’s wrong and you can’t do anything about it without losing your job at the only station in town.

“Hey.” You jump as Kyle’s hand strokes down your arm - gentle and warm. Grounding. “It’s alright. The vans got chains on the tires. We’ll take a backroad and see how far we can get. If we have to turn back, I’ll take the heat.”

You snap your head up to meet his gaze. “Kyle-”

“It’s fine.” He smiles reassuringly. “C’mon, go get your coat.”

“O-okay…”

You stay quiet at you load into the van. Guilt gnaws at your chest while you do the same to your inner cheek. The idea that you’ve put Kyle in danger just because you’re too weak to argue with your boss makes you feel weak. Pathetic. You’re pathetic. Neither of you talk much as you drive, opting to keep the radio low so Kyle can concentrate on the road. It’s just as bad as it seemed. You can barely see to the end of the headlights - the sun having already nearly set - everything else pitch black while the snow glints in the light. It’s falling sideways. You can feel the truck sway every so often from a massive gust of wind. At least no one else is on the road.

You wish you didn’t feel like crying so badly.

There’s a loud cracking sound somewhere. You can’t tell from what direction - unsure if it was even real. You can’t hear much of anything over the howling wind and snow beating against the van.

“Did you-” You’re cut off as a massive trunk appears in front of you, crashing down onto the street.

Kyle gasps. You screech, the van whipping off road and he redirects away. A strong arm braces itself over your chest to keep you steady as you careen off the road. You screw your eyes shut tightly, bracing for a likely impact. Between the snow and the darkness you can’t tell what direction you’re facing when the van finally lurches to a stop in the icy mud. A loud grunt escapes you as your seatbelt locks against your sternum.

Several beats of quiet pass between you. Both of you panting, trying to clear your heads and take in what just happened. The moment breaks when Kyle drops his arm, hand resting on your thigh. You don’t think anything of it past a comforting gesture - there isn’t any room in your brain for anything else as you blink slow. It feels good, though. Grounding. It slows your heart and evens your breathing.

“Scary, huh?” Kyle chuckles nervously, still staring forward out the windshield.

You can’t help but giggle back, nervous energy making your hands shake. “Uh-huh. You okay?”

“Yeah.” He finally turns to look at you. “You?”

You nod quietly.

“Alright.” He grunts. “Let’s see about getting out of here.”

The moment he hits the gas to reverse you both know you’re in trouble. The tires spin, whirring loudly along to the wind outside. The van doesn’t budge an inch. You’re stuck on the side of a random backroad, in the middle of a blizzard, with a felled tree in your path, all alone.

Kyle pulls out his phone, tapping around. He sighs loudly, resting his head back on the car seat headrest. “No signal out here. Fuckin’ hell.”

You’re well and truly stranded.

Your shoulders start shaking and you bend forward, curling in on yourself. You bury your face in your hands, hot tears swelling in your eyes. “Kyle, I’m so sorry…”

“Oh, angel-”

“I could’ve gotten you killed! I could’ve - all because I couldn’t - It’d be all my fault!” You sob.

Kyle’s hand comes to rest on your upper back, rubbing in gentle circles. “Love- it’s okay. We’re okay. Hey, look at me.”

You shake your head. How could you? How fucking could you? Pathetic.

He takes your wrist, peeling your hands away from your face. “Look. At. Me.”

You sit up slowly, still hiccupping, though no longer sobbing like before. Something about his touch, his hands on you, just feels right. The world feels right. Grounded.

“It’s not your fault. Shepherd’s an arse. He shouldn’t have put us in this position. He knew you couldn’t say no. That’s the only reason he asked.” There’s a snarl at the edges of his voice. Something bitter - wrong sounding in his sweet voice. He glances over at the dash. “We’ve got plenty of gas. The battery is basically new. We’ll be fine for the night. Roach said it should be over by morning and they’ll figure out we didn’t make it back.”

You sniffle, nodding weakly and undoing your seat belt to breathe properly. Your chest still hurts. “I’m sorry…”

“Here.” After rooting around in the glove box, Kyle comes up with a small pack of tissues. You reach for it, but he makes no move to hand them over. Instead, he takes one out. Cupping your jaw in one hand and slowly, gently, patting around your eyes to fix up the mess you made. Like he always does.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur.

“No more sorries.” He shakes his head.

Kyle shuts the high beams off, leaving the regular lights on just in case someone drives by. Not that anyone will. This road is underpopulated even during the best summer days. Neither of you speak for a long while. You keep glancing over at Kyle out of the corner of your eye. He’s thinking about something - you can tell by the pinch in his brow and the pull in the corner of his mouth. He looks so pretty in the moonlight. The contours of his face softened by the low light, eyes nearly pitch black besides a pinprick of light.

“How are your moms?” You blurt.

He chuckles. “Good. Think they’re on a cruise right now.”

“I’m jealous.” You snort, looking out the window at the ice.

“Facts.”

You lapse back into quiet, emotionally and physically drained - he probably feels the same. Neither of you quite able to muster your usual, easy banter. A slimy little part of you is glad that Kyle came with you - even if is did put him in unnecessary danger. You don’t think you would have handled this situation well on your own. Adrenaline makes your hands shake, your heart still pounding in your chest.

“Want t’ fuck?” Kyle breaks the silence suddenly, head leaned on his hand and elbow on the window seal.

You sputter out an awkward laugh. He’s joking right? He’s just fucking with you because he’s bored. “Don’t mess with me, it’s not nice.”

“Not messin’.”

You slowly meet his eye. Even in the dark with only the moonlight and the glow of the electric buttons in the back of the van you can see the seriousness of his expression. The unwavering way his eyes rake over you. He means it.

You shrink away, bashful now. “Kyle-”

“You can’t deny that there’s something here.” He gestures between you. “I know you feel it. That night at the pub-”

“We were drunk.”

“We were honest.” He shrugs. “Besides, what better way to pass the time and keep warm?”

You stare at him, eyes searching his face for some other meaning. Some secondary, malicious intent. It’s not there, of course. Kyle simply isn’t like that. Those dark eyes meet yours honestly. You glance down at his hand laying on the arm rest. It’s been so long since you've been held; touched. You’re coworkers, though. Close knit professionals. A team. What if moving forward ruins your dynamic? What if you lose him? It would be wrong, wouldn’t it? A total HR violation.

Then again… why should you always follow the rules?

Fuck it. “Okay.”

“C’mere.” Kyle smiles and reaches over to pull you by your waist and you follow.

It’s too easy, almost, to let yourself go over the armrests and right across his lap. It takes a moment with your wide hips and thick thighs to get comfortable straddling him. At least the van seats are big. You hover over him slightly, leaning your weight on the hand holding the armrest.

He clicks his tongue, the hands on your waist pressing down. “On me, love. Want t’ feel you.”

How could you ever deny that? You sigh softly, letting your weight fall into his thighs. Kyle hums appreciatively. The hands on your waist begin to knead down over your hips. You aren’t quite sure what to do - what the social protocol is for this situation. Your hands find a resting point on his shoulders, so strong and firm under your touch.

You don’t have to worry for long. Not when he leans up to you, the hands on your hips arching you into him, “Kiss me?”

You nod, for some reason, before pressing your lips to his. It remains chaste, at first. Little pecks and presses as you feel each other out. His lips are soft, moving so naturally against yours you nearly miss when his tongue swipes across your lower lip. You gasp, giving him just enough room to make his move forward. Suddenly, you’re collapsing into each other. He tastes like his usual morning coffee - sharply sweet caramel. Your hand finds it’s way to the back of his head, one of the hands on your hip scrapes down to grip your thigh.

The moment only breaks when he leans you back too far, sounding off the van horn into the empty night. You both stop, looking at each other for a beat before giggling.

You gasp as the hand on your thigh suddenly disappears under your skirt - your laugh breaking off into a gasp as he cups your pussy through your tights and underwear. His nail catches on the thin fabric. A promise if what’s to come.

“You and these fuckin’ skirts…even in the middle of winter…” Kyle murmurs, breath warm against your ear. “D’you have any idea how good you look? Prancing around for my camera, huh?”

“Kyle…” A shiver runs down your spine.

“It’s just for me, isn’t it?” He chuckles, big hands running up your thighs to the bend of your hips. “I’ve seen you with the other guys. Not nearly as excited. Lackin’ that little pep in your step.”

He lightly smacks your ass for emphasis. You squeak - face so hot you almost want to get out of the van and bury it in the snow. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit and you can’t help but whine quietly. His other hand travels up, pushing at your sweater. His hand catches your bralette as he moves, hiking both up over your chest. A gasp rattles in your throat as he catches a nipple between his teeth, your hands tightly fisting his shirt while you let him explore.

A tearing sound echoes through the van. You can’t complain - it’s not like these were your nice tights anyway. Kyle drags his finger along your lips through your underwear. He’s teasing, eyes locked on your face as he waits for you to react. You just sigh each time his fingers glide over your clit ever so slightly until they stop, catching the hem of your underwear and pushing them to the side.

Kyle pauses, looking up at you. “May I?”

You huff. “You better.”

He grins up at you from ear to ear, pressing his lips to yours once again as he drags his fingers between your folds. A low, gravelly hum rumbles in his chest. “So wet already… all this for me?”

The reply gets caught in your throat - cutting off into a moan as he circles your clit with the pads of his fingers. His middle finger circles your entrance, eyes never leaving your face as he gauges your reaction. You’re sure you look ridiculous - face hot and utter disheveled. He seems to like it, though, quietly moaning with you as he presses one digit inside. You tip your head to the side, matching his slow pace until he adds another. They reach so much deeper than yours ever can, lightly prodding until he finds what he was looking for.

“Fuck-!” You gasp, whole body shuddering.

“There she is.” Kyle murmurs, almost to himself more than you.

“Kyyy-!” You whine, rocking back and forth on his hand, desperate for any friction on your clit.

“Thassit, take what y’need, babygirl.” He sighs, catching your nipple between his teeth. “Be good and cum on my fingers.”

It doesn’t take much. A few more bounces of your hips just as his fingers curl even further into that spot that leaves you seeing stars. You keen loudly, face buried in the crook of his neck as you fuck yourself on his fingers. You slow to a stop, breathing heavy. Your skin feels electric, body practically humming happily. A pathetic sigh pushes past your lips as Kyle removes his hand.

He slowly brings his fingers to his mouth, groaning as he licks them clean. “Taste just as pretty as you look, love.”

You whine back dumbly, mind and body still coming down from your first orgasm in a long, long time. Well, with a partner at least. Fuck, if Kyle doesn’t know what he’s doing. Your find yourself clumsily pawing at his shirt, suddenly desperate to get to see him properly. He just chuckles, pulling it over his head and tossing it toward the passenger seat.

Kyle leans the seat back. It doesn’t go far, just enough to give you some extra room to maneuver. Your hands drag over corded muscle just under a layer of soft. You run your fingers through the light dusting of hair on his chest. He lets you take your time, lets you feel him out until you’re satisfied and leaning down for another kiss.

“Y’want to keep going?” He murmurs against your lips. “No pressure.”

You nod vigorously, the hands you braced on his chest gliding down toward his belt. “Do you?”

“Fuck yes.” He sighs, hips bucking up into your hand - telling you to get a move on.

You don’t, brain to cottony to care much as you take your time with his leather belt. His breath hitches when you palm him through his trousers - the size of him registering somewhere in the back of your mind. You clumsily undo his trousers, hands shaking in anticipation. He lifts his hips just enough to help you pull his pants and boxers partially down his thighs.

Kyle sighs as his cock springs free, eyes still fixed on you as you take him in. Your eyes widen - raking over the length of hum to the perfectly groomed curls at the base. He’s what you imagine an artist would carve - curve and veins too perfect. Another shiver runs down your spine.

“Pretty…” The word falls from your lips before you can stop it. You cover your mouth, embarrassment forcing you to look away. Kyle just laughs, reaching up to pulls your face back to him.

“I know.”

You suck your teeth. “Arrogant man, you are.”

“Just self aware.” He shrugs, smirking up at you.

You roll your eyes, raising your hand to lick a long, wet stripe over your palm and fingers. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, giving him a long, slow stroke from root to tip. Kyle groans, hips bucking up into your touch. You wish you could reach down to wrap your lips around it - let him rest warm and heavy on your tongue. Another time, perhaps.

You meet his gaze as you position yourself over him. A brief moment to let either of you end it here. To stay on this side of the boundary. To leave things as they were - for the most part, at least. Neither of you take it.

The hands on your hips help guide you down. Slowly, an inch at a time. Without any extra lube there’s a slight burn to the stretch just on this side of too much. You moan, low and quiet as you finally rest at the base of his cock. He sighs out a moan as you lean your weight on him again - fully sheathed inside you. You peek your eyes open to look down at him. His dark eyes have locked onto where you’re connected, the hands on your hips grip so tight you wonder if they’ll leave bruises. Kyle’s jaw is set as he breathes long and deep.

“A-alright?” You gasp out.

“Feel so fuckin’ good around me, doll.” He grunts through grit teeth. “Christ.”

You tilt your head to watch his reaction while you tentatively roll your hips. Those pretty lashes flutter and Kyle tips his head back, groaning.

A newfound confidence overtakes you. “Feels that good, huh?”

He nods with another low groan as you begin to roll your hips at a rhythm. A slow grind down onto each other. Lazy. You’re both tired after that adrenaline spike earlier, and your legs still feel loose and jelly after already cumming once. He fills you so perfectly, though. His warm hands drag over your skin, leaving an electric feel in their path. His teeth nips at your neck, mouthing along your jaw. He’s everywhere - all consuming.

“Kyle-” You whine, cheek pressing to his temple.

“Yeah, baby?” He moans back. “C’mon - shite -say my name again.”

“Please, Kyle, f-fu-” Your words trail off into nothing. Just unintelligible chants that you think are supposed to be his name. You can’t tell anymore, to enraptured in the feeling of your bodies moving against each other.

Kyle’s hand drifts up your back to cup the base of your neck, pulling you down until your foreheads press together. Your eyes may be screwed shut, but you can feel his on you - boring through to the very core of you. He shifts under you, just slightly, suddenly forcing a startled, keening sound out of you as he thrusts up into you with his newfound footing. The pace becomes desperate as you both careen toward the edge.

“Oh, fuck!” You whine, nails biting into his shoulder and the fabric to the seat beside his head.

“Gonna cum again?” He pants against your lips. “I can feel it - pretty little cunt’s clenching around me like a fuckin’ vice.”

You nod sloppily, only managing a choked, “Y-yea-”

“Together?”

“Mmhmm!”

You cling to each other, eyes screwed shut. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling the high pitched whine that tears through your throat as you climax. Kyle moans in your ear, hands digging into your skin so hard they’ll surely leave bruises in their wake as he spills inside you. You stay like that for a moment, catching your breath - his cum dripping from you as he slips out. You sigh, far too content to just stay here with your face buried in the crook of his neck. Warm and comfortable. It feels right - laying in his arms.

“Hey.” Kyle pats your hip, pointing behind you. “We did the Titanic thing.”

You glance at the fogged up windows and laugh.

[familyvideostevie]

it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed. 

You’ve only been open for two hours. 

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns. 

Your coffee shop. 

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it. 

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works. 

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure. 

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand. 

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him. 

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired. 

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter. 

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember. 

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint. 

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush. 

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks. 

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on. 

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize. 

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question. 

You laugh. Joel looks pleased. 

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders. 

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot. 

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee. 

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him? 

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

__

Joel stops by again. 

And again. 

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron. 

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting. 

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying. 

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning.  When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped. 

“I’m honored,” he says. 

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window. 

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash. 

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask. 

He smirks. “Miss me?” 

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy. 

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck. 

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. 

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy. 

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise. 

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one. 

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw. 

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear. 

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him. 

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone. 

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place. 

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says. 

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day. 

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags. 

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is. 

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.” 

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles. 

They both wave at you as they drive away. 

__

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted. 

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb. 

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing. 

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work. 

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk. 

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one. 

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus. 

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

__

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering. 

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you. 

And you still barely know him. But you want to. 

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime? 

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back. 

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back. 

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.” 

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says. 

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually. 

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?” 

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.” 

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting. 

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says. 

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables. 

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate. 

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe. 

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel. 

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light. 

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[drewharrisonwriter]

Between the Sky & the Horizon

Status: Complete.

Pairings: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Set in a small Texas town during the 1940s, Joel Miller, a grieving widower, and father, is thrust into a marriage of convenience with the Reverend's pregnant daughter, Dorothy.

Word Count: 16.5k words

A/N: My ADHD brain went into overdrive and I wrote this in one sitting. No edits, not beta'd. Warnings: Main OC has an assigned gender and name. Timeline inaccuracies, this was set in the 1940s but I may have included inaccuracies in technology etc., marriage of convenience, angst and fluff, emotional hurt/comfort a bit of drama, SMUT so yes, a little explicit sexual content, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, graphic depictions of childbirth.

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The air was thick with the scent of freshly turned earth as Joel Miller stepped off his tractor, wiping the sweat from his brow. His fields stretched endlessly in all directions, a patchwork of gold and green under the late afternoon sun. It was the kind of quiet that had grown comfortable to him, the kind that came with long days and longer nights alone. He’d gotten used to it, even preferred it, in the years since Sarah had passed. Noise felt like an intrusion now.

He crouched down to check the soil near the newly planted rows, letting his fingers dig into the cool, damp earth. The rhythmic clucking of the chickens behind him and the distant barking of his old dog, Scout, were the only things breaking the silence. It was peaceful, or as close to it as Joel allowed himself to feel these days.

That was until the sound of a truck pulling up the long, gravel driveway caught his attention. Joel glanced over his shoulder, frowning as a black Ford truck came into view. Not many people came out here uninvited. He stood, dusting off his hands on his worn jeans, and waited as the truck rolled to a stop in front of his house.

The door creaked open, and out stepped Reverend William Hargrove. Joel’s frown deepened. He hadn’t seen the reverend since Sarah’s funeral. The man had changed since then—his once well-groomed hair had gone gray, and there were deeper lines etched into his face. But his eyes still held that same fire, a flame that had burned even hotter since he’d found God and sworn off the drink. Hargrove shut the door and walked towards him, his steps heavy with purpose.

“Joel,” the reverend greeted, tipping his hat. His voice was rough, but there was an undercurrent of something that made Joel’s gut twist.

“Reverend,” Joel replied, keeping his tone neutral. “Didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Hargrove nodded, looking around the farm before turning his gaze back to Joel. “Got a proposition for you. Something… out of the ordinary.”

Joel crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the tractor. “Go on.”

The reverend hesitated, then sighed deeply. “It’s about my daughter, Dorothy.”

Joel’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t seen Dot in years, not since she’d left town to chase a life beyond this small, dusty place. “What about her?”

“She’s come back home,” Hargrove said, his voice dropping. “And she’s pregnant.”

The words hung in the air like a curse. Joel didn’t say anything, just stared at the man in front of him, waiting for the rest of it.

“The father… he’s gone,” Hargrove continued, clearing his throat. “Naval officer. She won’t say much about him, but it doesn’t matter. She’s alone, Joel. And this town… well, you know how folks talk.”

Joel did know. This place thrived on whispers and judgment. A woman like Dot, unmarried and pregnant, would be torn apart by the gossip. But that wasn’t his problem.

“What’s this got to do with me?” Joel asked, though he already had a sinking feeling he knew the answer.

Hargrove shifted on his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting Joel’s eyes again. “I need a man to marry her. To give her and that baby a name, protection. And you need someone to take care of your home while you work this land.”

Joel pushed off the tractor, pacing a few steps away. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need someone coming into his life, stirring things up. But the reverend’s words echoed in his mind—protection. He knew what it was like to be alone, to feel like the world had turned its back on you. He’d been living that reality every day since Sarah died.

“She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?” Joel asked, turning back to face Hargrove.

The reverend shook his head. “No. But she’s desperate, Joel. I know it’s a lot to ask, but she needs help. And maybe… maybe you do too.”

Joel clenched his jaw. It wasn’t that simple, nothing ever was. But there was a part of him, buried deep under the weight of grief and loneliness, that considered it. He could offer her a place to stay, a way to survive this town’s judgment. Maybe, in return, she could offer him something too—someone to come home to, even if it was just a formality.

“How soon are you talking?” Joel asked, his voice low.

“Soon,” Hargrove replied. “Before anyone can start asking too many questions.”

Joel nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what possessed him to agree, but before he could stop himself, he said, “Alright. I’ll do it.”

The reverend let out a breath of relief, stepping forward to shake Joel’s hand. “Thank you, Joel. You’ve done a good thing today. We’ll make the arrangements quickly.”

Joel nodded again, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him like a heavy coat. As he watched the reverend get back into his truck and drive away, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.

-

Dot stood in the kitchen of her childhood home, staring out the window at the garden where her mother once grew flowers. The familiar scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air, a remnant of her father’s attempt to make things feel normal. But nothing about this moment was normal. She absently traced a finger along the edge of the counter, lost in thought.

When she heard the front door creak open, she turned, her heart skipping a beat. Her father had said Joel Miller was coming by, but she hadn’t expected him so soon. And she hadn’t expected the nerves that twisted in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again after all these years.

The heavy footsteps that followed were unmistakable. Joel had always had a presence—quiet, but solid, like the earth beneath her feet. When he walked into the kitchen, she almost forgot to breathe.

He was more handsome than she remembered. The years had etched deeper lines into his face, and his hair had more silver in it now, but there was something about him that made her pulse quicken. Maybe it was the way he filled the space with that same quiet strength, or the way his eyes—still that deep brown she remembered—looked at her with a mix of surprise and something she couldn’t quite name.

“Dot,” Joel said, his voice low and rough.

“Joel,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She forced herself to smile, though it felt strained. “It’s been a long time.”

He nodded, stepping further into the room. “It has.”

Her father, Reverend Hargrove, appeared in the doorway a moment later, his expression unreadable. Dot’s gaze flicked between the two men, unease settling in her chest.

“What’s this all about, Dad?” Dot asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Hargrove cleared his throat, glancing at Joel before speaking. “I’ve spoken with Joel about… your situation. He’s agreed to marry you.”

Dot blinked, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. “He… what?”

“I thought it’d be best for everyone,” Hargrove continued, his tone cautious. “You’d have protection, and Joel… well, he could use someone to take care of the home while he’s out working.”

Dot’s eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, anger surged through her. “You can’t just—” She stopped herself, forcing the words back down. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. Turning to Joel, she asked quietly, “Did he force you into this?”

Joel’s gaze met hers, steady and calm. “No, Dot. He didn’t force me.”

She shook her head, her voice softening. “You don’t have to do this, Joel. You don’t owe him—or anyone—a favor. This… this isn’t your problem.”

For a long moment, there was silence. Then, Hargrove cleared his throat again, sensing the tension, and murmured, “I’ll leave you two to talk,” before slipping out of the room, leaving them alone.

Dot stared after him for a moment before turning back to Joel. “You don’t have to do this,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can handle the gossip. It’s nobody’s business if I’m pregnant.”

Joel studied her, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak right away, and for a moment, Dot wondered if he would just walk out and leave her standing there with her unanswered questions. But then, he took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers.

“It might not be anyone’s business,” Joel said quietly, “but that won’t stop them from talking. You know how this town is, Dot. They’ll tear you apart, whether it’s their business or not.”

Dot swallowed hard, knowing he was right. The town had always thrived on gossip, and a pregnant, unmarried woman was the kind of scandal they’d feast on for months.

Joel continued, his voice steady and calm, “I’m not doin’ this because I owe anyone. I’m doin’ it because… I know what it’s like to lose everything. And I know you don’t deserve to go through this alone. We can make it work—on our terms.”

Dot searched his face, looking for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. She knew Joel wasn’t the kind of man to say something he didn’t mean. He was offering her a way out, a chance to protect herself and her baby from the town’s judgment. And in a strange way, she realized he was offering himself a chance too—a chance to have someone by his side again, even if it was just for convenience.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside her. “What if it doesn’t work?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s gaze softened, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe hope—in his eyes. “Then we’ll figure it out. But at least we’ll be in it together.”

Dot held his gaze for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, Joel. Let’s do this.”

Joel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and gave her a small nod in return. It wasn’t a grand declaration of love or anything close to it. But it was an agreement—one born out of necessity, maybe even mutual respect.

And in this town, that was enough.

- 

The sun was setting when they stood in the small living room of her father’s house, the last rays of daylight filtering through the lace curtains. Reverend Hargrove stood before them with his Bible in hand, his expression somber but steady. Tommy Miller and his wife, Maria, stood off to the side, witnesses to the union.

Hargrove cleared his throat and began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Marriage is a sacred bond, one that requires trust, faith, and love.”

He turned to Dot first. “Dorothy Hargrove, do you take this man, Joel Miller, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

Dot swallowed hard, her pulse racing, but she nodded. “I do.”

Hargrove then turned to Joel. “Joel Miller, do you take this woman, Dorothy Hargrove, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

Joel’s voice was calm as he responded, “I do.”

Hargrove nodded, and after a pause, he opened his Bible to a passage and began to read: “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”*

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Dot kept her eyes on Joel, feeling the weight of what they had just promised, even if love wasn’t the reason they stood here today.

“And now,” Hargrove said, closing the Bible, “by the power vested in me by the state of Texas, I pronounce you man and wife.”

Dot and Joel exchanged a brief, awkward glance. There was no call to kiss the bride, no fanfare. Instead, they simply nodded at each other, silently acknowledging the moment.

Tommy stepped forward with a grin, breaking the tension. “Well, looks like it’s official now,” he said, his voice warm. Maria joined him, smiling gently at Dot and Joel.

“We’re happy for you both,” Maria added, sincerity clear in her eyes. “Congratulations.”

The reverend handed them the marriage contract, and Dot signed her name with a steady hand. Joel followed suit, his signature finalizing their union. Tommy and Maria added their signatures as witnesses, making it all official.

As Dot looked up at Joel again, her heart still pounding, she realized that they had crossed a line they couldn’t step back from now. But maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to make this work.

Together.

-

The sky was painted in shades of twilight as Joel and Dot loaded the last of her belongings into the bed of Joel’s old truck. A single suitcase held all of her clothes, while a couple of boxes were filled with books, paper, and a well-worn typewriter that she had carried from place to place over the years.

Joel secured the boxes with a practiced hand, tying down the items to ensure nothing would shift on the hour-long drive to his farm.

Maria handed Dot a carefully wrapped cake, a warm smile on her face. "Here, take this with you. And there’s a casserole, too—figured you might not want to cook your first night there."

"Thank you, Maria," Dot said softly, accepting the food.

Tommy stepped forward, his grin infectious. "You two take care now, y’hear? And don’t be strangers."

Dot managed a small smile. "We’ll try not to."

Her father, Reverend Hargrove, approached, placing a gentle hand on Dot’s shoulder before leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You’ve done the right thing, Dorothy. Remember that.”

She nodded, fighting back the wave of emotions that threatened to surface. “I will, Dad.”

Joel stepped forward, offering his hand to the reverend. “Thank you, Reverend Hargrove. I’ll take care of her.”

Hargrove shook Joel’s hand firmly, his eyes carrying a mixture of gratitude and something unspoken. “I know you will, Joel.”

With everything packed, Joel opened the passenger door for Dot. She hesitated for just a moment before climbing in, and settling into the worn seat. Joel circled around to the driver’s side, sliding in behind the wheel.

As they drove out of town, the houses grew sparse, replaced by open fields that stretched endlessly into the horizon. The silence in the truck was thick, but Dot finally broke it, her voice soft.

"You’ve got quite the setup at the farm, haven’t you? My dad says you’ve got a whole team of workers."

Joel nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "Yeah, I’ve got a few hands helping out. We grow a bit of everything—corn, wheat, some vegetables. There’s always work to be done."

Dot glanced out the window, watching the landscape blur past. "Sounds like you don’t really need me around, then, if you’ve got that many people."

Joel shook his head slightly. "They tend the fields, keep the crops goin’. But the house… it’s just me out there. Haven’t really kept up with it the way I should’ve. That’s where I could use some help."

Dot chuckled softly, more to herself than to him. "So I’m more of a housekeeper than a wife, huh?"

Joel glanced at her, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I wouldn’t put it that way. But it’s somethin’ I figured we could work out together."

The truck rumbled down the dirt road, the only sound between them the steady hum of the engine and the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. Joel glanced over at Dot occasionally, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t come out awkward or forced. It was easier when they were working, but conversation was another matter.

After a few minutes of silence, Joel cleared his throat. “You ever think about comin’ back here before all this?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

Dot shook her head slightly. “Not really. I mean, I’ve visited a few times over the years, but I never thought I’d be back for good. Too many memories, I guess.”

Joel nodded, understanding more than he let on. “It’s not the easiest place to come back to. But sometimes… sometimes it’s the only place that makes sense.”

Dot turned her gaze out the window, watching the fields pass by. “Yeah, I suppose. Guess I thought I’d be somewhere else by now, doing something different.”

“What’d you have in mind?” Joel asked, genuinely curious.

Dot hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know… something more than this. I wanted to see the world, write stories, maybe even publish a book someday. But life has a funny way of getting in the way of dreams, doesn’t it?”

Joel’s brow furrowed. “Writing, huh? Never knew that about you.”

Dot gave a small, wistful smile. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Stories, poems… anything that came to mind. But it’s hard to find the time or the inspiration to actually finish anything. I guess I just kept waiting for the right moment, but it never really came.”

Joel considered her words, understanding that feeling all too well. “Farm life might not give you much in the way of excitement, but it’ll give you time. Quiet, too. Maybe that’s what you need.”

Dot looked over at him, surprised by the insight. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll have to see how it goes.”

Joel nodded, letting a comfortable silence fall between them. After a moment, he spoke again, changing the subject slightly. “Farm’s big, but it’s not as busy as it used to be. We got the crops to tend, and the workers handle most of that. It’s the house that’s a different story. Never been much good at keepin’ it in order.”

Dot chuckled softly, the tension easing just a bit. “So, I am a housekeeper after all, then?” She joked.

“No--Jesus, that's not what I meant." Joel chuckled, shaking his head. "Just think of it as… a partnership. You help with what I can’t manage alone, and I’ll do the same.”

Dot nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that makes sense. And who knows, maybe I’ll find some of that inspiration out there after all.”

As the truck bumped along the dirt road leading to the farmhouse, the building came into view—a large, two-story structure with a wraparound porch and a few outbuildings scattered around. The place had seen better days, but it was sturdy, built to last.

Joel parked the truck near the porch and got out, moving to help Dot with her belongings. They carried everything inside, placing the boxes and suitcase in the foyer.

"This is it," Joel said, almost to himself. "Let me show you around."

The inside of the house was simple, with wooden floors and white walls. It had a lived-in feel, though it was clear Joel wasn’t much for decorating. He led Dot through the rooms on the first floor—a cozy living room with a fireplace, a dining room that looked rarely used, and a spacious kitchen that was surprisingly well-stocked.

"There’s a room down here," Joel said, opening a door to reveal a small bedroom with its own bathroom. "Figured it might come in handy if you ever have any guests in or too old to get up and down the stairs."

They both laughed a little at that. 

Upstairs, Joel showed her the four bedrooms. "This one’s yours," he said, stopping at a large room at the end of the hall. It had its own bathroom and a view of the fields stretching out behind the house.

Dot set her suitcase down near the bed, glancing around the room. "It’s lovely, Joel. Thank you."

He nodded, somewhat awkwardly, before motioning to the room across the hall. "I’m just over there, if you need anything. Right here is another guest room." He said, pointing to another door down the hall. 

Dot noticed one door at the end of the hallway that remained closed. Joel’s eyes flicked toward it for a brief second before looking away. She didn’t need to ask; she understood.

"That’s Sarah’s room," he said quietly, almost as if the words slipped out before he could stop them. "Built this house hopin’ to fill it with kids…"

He trailed off, clearing his throat and turning away. Dot, sensing his discomfort, smiled gently and placed a hand on his arm. "It’s a beautiful home, Joel. You did a wonderful job. How about we see what Maria packed for dinner?"

Joel looked at her, grateful for the change of subject. "Yeah… yeah, that sounds good."

Back downstairs, they unpacked the casserole and cake, setting the table in the kitchen. They ate in relative silence, the weight of the day hanging over them. When they did talk, it was mostly about other people—Tommy and Maria, Dot’s father, the workers on Joel’s farm. Neither seemed ready to delve deeper into their own stories just yet.

After dinner, they worked together to clean up, each movement deliberate and careful, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace that had settled between them. Dot washed the dishes, and Joel dried them, the clinking of plates and cutlery the only sound in the kitchen.

When the last dish was put away, they both paused, looking at each other with a mixture of uncertainty and something close to understanding.

"Well," Joel said, breaking the silence. "Guess we should call it a night."

Dot nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Good night, Joel."

"Good night, Dot."

They lingered for a moment longer before turning to head upstairs, each retreating into their separate rooms. As Dot closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath, feeling the enormity of the day finally settling in.

She was in a new place, with a new life ahead of her—one that she hadn’t planned for, but one she was determined to make the best of.

And somewhere across the hall, Joel was likely thinking the same thing.

–

The sun rose early on the farm, the first light of dawn spilling over the horizon and casting long shadows across the fields. Joel Miller had always been an early riser, finding solace in the quiet hours of the morning before the day’s work began. But lately, those peaceful moments were tinged with a restlessness he couldn’t quite shake.

He’d lie awake in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandering through a landscape of memories he’d long tried to bury. Memories of Sarah, her green eyes so full of life, and of her mother, who had passed too soon, leaving him to raise their daughter alone. The pain of those losses had never really left him; it had just settled into a dull ache that flared up in the quiet moments.

And now, there was Dot.

Dot, with her gentle way of moving through his house, her soft humming as she went about her chores, her growing belly that served as a constant reminder of the new life she carried. It was hard to ignore the way she had changed things. The house that had once been silent and still now held a new energy, one that Joel hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

He found himself watching her more often than he liked to admit, noticing the little things she did—how she’d pause in the middle of a task to catch her breath, or the way she’d carefully arrange flowers in a vase, as if trying to bring a bit of beauty into a space that had known too much sorrow. Joel wasn’t sure what to make of these feelings, the way his chest tightened whenever he saw her, or the way he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the house without checking on her first.

The days were long, filled with the endless tasks that came with running a farm, but it was the evenings he looked forward to most. He’d come in from the fields, the sun dipping low in the sky, and find Dot in the kitchen, a meal waiting on the table. They didn’t talk much at first, the silence between them thick with unspoken words, but over time, the quiet had become something comfortable, almost companionable.

Joel couldn’t deny that she had a way of making the house feel like a home again. He wasn’t sure how it had happened—how they’d gone from being two strangers thrown together by circumstance to something more. But as the days turned into weeks, he began to realize that he looked forward to those small moments of connection, those fleeting touches, and shared glances that hinted at something deeper.

-

It had been a few weeks since Joel and Dot had settled into their new routine on the farm, but something felt different this morning. As they prepared to head into town for Dot’s check-up, Joel noticed the way she seemed more withdrawn than usual. She moved through the house with an absentminded air, her hand frequently resting on her growing bump, gently caressing it as if to soothe the child within. Joel couldn’t help but think it was just the pregnancy making her moody and uncomfortable, the summer heat weighing on her like it did on everyone else.

“Ready, darlin’?” Joel asked as he opened the truck door for her, his tone gentle. Dot nodded, but there was a distant look in her eyes that made him pause. She climbed into the truck, her movements slow and careful, and Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more on her mind.

They drove in silence for a while, the only sound the rumble of the engine and the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. Joel glanced over at Dot from time to time, noticing the way she kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead, her hand never leaving her belly. He figured she was just tired, the weight of the baby and the strain of the heat getting to her. But as they got closer to town, the tension in the air seemed to thicken, and Joel knew something was off.

When they arrived at the doctor’s office, a hush fell over the waiting area as they stepped inside. Joel moved to Dot’s side, taking her small hand in his, their fingers interlocking as they walked to their seats. Joel noticed the curious glances from the other patients, the way conversations dropped to a murmur as they sat down. Dot’s grip on his hand tightened slightly, her fingers trembling against his skin. Joel gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, offering silent support.

The doctor called them in after a few minutes, and they followed him into the small examination room. The check-up was routine, the doctor’s hands gentle as he examined Dot’s belly and listened to the baby’s heartbeat. “You’re about five months along now,” the doctor said with a reassuring smile. “Everything looks good. You and the baby are both healthy.”

Dot nodded, a small smile of relief crossing her face, but Joel could tell she was still troubled. As the doctor finished up, Joel opened the door for her, and they stepped back into the waiting area. Dot barely gave Joel a chance to catch up before she hurried toward the exit, practically dragging him behind her. Her hand cradled her bump protectively, her steps hurried and anxious.

“Dot, what’s wrong?” Joel asked as they stepped outside, the door closing behind them with a soft thud.

Dot didn’t answer at first, her eyes darting around as if she were searching for an escape. Finally, she stopped, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she turned to face him. “It’s the way they look at us,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “The way they’re already gossiping, speculating about us… about this baby. They’re judging, Joel. They’re thinking… all sorts of things.”

Joel’s expression softened as he stepped closer, his hand finding her shoulder in a comforting grip. “Darlin’, this town’s been talkin’ since the day it was built. Let ‘em talk. Ain’t nobody’s business but ours.”

Dot’s hand instinctively moved to her belly, caressing it in slow, soothing circles. “But it’s not just that… It’s the way they look at us, like they know everything about us. I hate it.”

Joel gently cupped her cheek, tilting her face up so she had to look at him. “They don’t know anything, darlin’. All they got is gossip, and that doesn’t change a thing between us. This baby is ours, and we’re gonna raise it together, no matter what they think.”

Dot searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, but all she saw was the quiet determination that had drawn her to him in the first place. She nodded slowly, her fears beginning to ease in the face of his steady reassurance.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Okay, Joel. I’ll try.”

He gave her a small, comforting smile, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down her cheek. “That’s my girl.”

They stood there for a moment, the weight of their conversation settling between them, before Joel glanced at the truck, then back at Dot. “You ever learn how to drive?”

Dot blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “Not really,” she admitted. “My dad tried to teach me, but I never got the hang of it.”

Joel nodded, his smile widening just a bit. “Well, I reckon it’s time you learned. Come on, let’s get in the truck.”

Joel led Dot back to the truck, the tension from their earlier conversation slowly dissipating as they moved into the next task at hand. He opened the driver’s side door and gestured for her to get in, his smile widening as she hesitated.

“Come on, darlin’. You can’t learn if you don’t get behind the wheel,” Joel encouraged, his tone light, trying to ease her nerves.

Dot glanced at the truck, then back at Joel, a mixture of apprehension and determination in her eyes. “Alright,” she said, more to herself than to him, and she climbed into the driver’s seat, her hand instinctively resting on her bump as she adjusted herself in the seat.

Joel circled around to the passenger side and got in, closing the door with a reassuring thud. He looked over at Dot, who was gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Relax, Dot. You’re not gonna break it,” he said, his voice gentle as he reached over to adjust her hands on the wheel. “Just take it easy, and listen to what I say.”

Dot nodded, exhaling a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Okay. I can do this.”

Joel pointed to the key in the ignition. “Go ahead and start her up.”

The engine roared to life, and Dot jumped slightly at the sound. Joel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re doin’ fine. Now, put your foot on the brake, and shift into drive.”

Dot followed his instructions, her movements cautious but deliberate. The truck rolled forward, and she felt a small surge of confidence as she navigated the empty stretch of road. Joel kept his eyes on the road ahead, but every now and then, he’d glance at her, noting the determined set of her jaw, the way she bit her lip in concentration.

“Now, ease off the brake and give it a little gas,” Joel instructed. “Not too much, just enough to get us moving.”

The truck picked up speed, and Dot’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “It feels… different,” she admitted her voice a mix of nerves and excitement. “I’ve never driven something this big before.”

Joel smiled, his voice filled with quiet pride. “You’re doin’ good, Dot. Just keep it steady.”

They drove for a while in companionable silence, the countryside rolling by in a blur of green and gold. Joel guided her through the basics, his instructions clear and patient. As they drove, Dot’s tension began to ease, and she found herself relaxing into the rhythm of the drive.

“You’re a natural,” Joel said, breaking the silence. “Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be able to drive anywhere.”

Dot glanced over at him, a shy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, Joel. I never thought I’d be learning to drive out here… like this.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Figured it was about time. Besides, it’s a useful skill to have, especially out here. You never know when you’ll need to get somewhere in a hurry.”

Dot nodded, understanding the practicality of his words. But there was something more to this moment, something that felt like progress. She was doing something she never thought she’d be able to do, and Joel was right there beside her, guiding her, encouraging her.

As they neared the farm, Joel directed her to a quieter path that led around the back of the property. The road was narrower here, flanked by trees that cast dappled shadows across the ground. It felt like a different world, a peaceful escape from the worries that had weighed on her earlier.

“Let’s take it slow here,” Joel advised, his tone easy. “This part’s a bit trickier, but you’ve got it.”

Dot navigated the winding path with careful precision, her confidence growing with each turn. The truck bumped along the dirt road, and she couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of accomplishment that welled up inside her.

When they finally pulled back up to the farmhouse, Dot turned off the engine and sat back in the seat, letting out a breath of relief. Joel watched her, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You did good, darlin’,” he said, his voice full of pride. “You’re a quick learner.”

Dot’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of pride and bashfulness. “Thanks, it was a little scary though...”

Joel nodded, the moment of connection between them settling into something comfortable, something real. “Anytime, darlin’.” He whispered and leaned in hesitantly until there was only a breadth of distance between them. Joel contemplated giving her a peck on the lips, but instead, he brushed his lips on her forehead. 

“You did well.” 

They lingered in the truck for a moment longer, the weight of their earlier worries forgotten in the wake of this small victory. They shared a brief laughter of relief… It was a simple thing, learning to drive, but it felt like a step forward, a sign that they were finding their way through this new life together.

Finally, Joel opened the door and stepped out, offering Dot a hand as she carefully climbed down from the truck. “Let’s get inside. I reckon we’ve earned ourselves a break.”

Dot smiled, taking his hand as they walked toward the house, the warmth of the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the yard. It wasn’t much, but it was enough—a moment of progress, a sign that they were building something that just might last.

-

After their driving lesson, Dot and Joel fell into a routine that began to feel almost natural. The farm was vast, and the work was endless, but they found comfort in the rhythm of their days. Mornings were quiet, the only sounds the soft clucking of chickens and the distant lowing of cattle as the sun rose over the horizon. Joel was always up first, slipping out of bed before dawn to tend to the animals and check the fields. He’d return to the house as the first light of day filtered through the kitchen windows, finding Dot already awake, her hands busy with some small task.

Dot had taken to waking early as well, her body adjusting to the demands of farm life. She’d start the day by tidying up the kitchen, her hands moving in gentle, deliberate motions as she wiped down the counters and set the table for breakfast. Her belly was growing larger with each passing week, and she found herself moving more slowly, her hand often resting on her bump as she worked.

One morning, as Joel entered the kitchen, he found Dot standing at the stove, carefully stirring a pot of oatmeal. The smell of cinnamon filled the air, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, so focused on the task at hand.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” Joel greeted her, his voice soft as he crossed the room to stand beside her.

Dot looked up, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Morning, Joel. Breakfast is almost ready.”

He nodded, reaching out to take the spoon from her hand. “Let me finish that up. You should sit down and rest.”

Dot hesitated, her hand instinctively moving to her belly as she glanced at the pot. “I’m fine, Joel. I can manage.”

Joel shook his head, his expression gentle but firm. “I know you can, but you don’t have to do it all yourself. Go on, sit down. I’ll bring it over.”

Dot finally relented, taking a seat at the table and watching as Joel finished preparing breakfast. It was a simple meal, but it felt like a shared effort, something they had both contributed to. As Joel brought the bowls to the table and set one in front of her, Dot couldn’t help but feel a warmth in her chest, a sense of belonging that she hadn’t expected.

They ate in comfortable silence, the early morning light casting a golden glow across the kitchen. Dot found herself glancing at Joel now and then, noticing the way he moved with an ease that came from years of hard work. He was a man of few words, but she had come to appreciate the way he showed his care through actions rather than speech.

After breakfast, Joel rose from the table and grabbed his hat from the hook by the door. “I’ll be out in the fields if you need me,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Dot nodded, her hand resting on her bump as she watched him go. “I might come out later, see if there’s anything I can help with.”

Joel paused, his hand on the door handle as he turned back to her. “You’re always welcome, Dot. Just don’t overdo it, alright?”

A small smile crossed her face, and she nodded again. “I won’t.”

As Joel left the house, Dot finished tidying up the kitchen, her thoughts lingering on the man who had just walked out the door. There was something comforting about the routine they had settled into, something that made her feel less alone in the world. It wasn’t what she had expected when she had agreed to this arrangement, but it was beginning to feel like something she could build on.

Later that morning, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, Dot decided to join Joel in the fields. The air was warm, and the sky was a clear, endless blue as she made her way out to where he was working. Joel was by the fence, mending a section that had come loose, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he worked.

Dot approached slowly, her hand resting on her belly as she took in the sight of him. He looked up as she neared, his expression softening as he saw her.

“Didn’t expect you out here so soon,” Joel said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Dot smiled, her hand still resting on her bump. “Thought I’d see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Joel straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “There’s always somethin’ to do, but I don’t want you pushin’ yourself too hard.”

“I’m not made of glass, Joel,” Dot replied, a touch of humor in her voice. “Besides, I need to keep busy. Sitting around all day isn’t good for me.”

Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at her. “Alright, darlin’. How about you hand me those nails over there?”

Dot nodded and moved to retrieve the small box of nails from where they sat on a nearby post. As she handed them to him, their fingers brushed briefly, and she felt a small jolt of electricity at the contact. It was a fleeting moment, but it left her feeling oddly warm inside.

They worked together in companionable silence, with Joel giving her small tasks that wouldn’t tire her out. As they fell into a rhythm, Dot found herself enjoying the work, the sense of purpose it gave her. She asked questions about the farm, about the crops and the animals, and Joel answered them with a patience that surprised her.

“You’ve been doing this for a long time,” Dot remarked as she watched Joel hammer a nail into place. “I can tell by the way you move, like you’re part of the land.”

Joel paused, glancing over at her with a thoughtful expression. “Guess you could say that. This farm’s been in my family for generations. It’s in my blood, I suppose.”

Dot nodded, her hand absently caressing her belly as she considered his words. “Must be nice, having that kind of connection to something.”

“It is,” Joel agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. “But it’s hard work too. Takes a lot to keep it goin’. Can’t do it alone.”

There was a weight to his words that Dot didn’t miss, and she looked at him with a newfound understanding. “You’re not alone, Joel,” she said softly. “I’m here now. I want to help.”

Joel looked at her, his brown eyes searching her face as if trying to gauge the sincerity of her words. After a moment, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I appreciate that, Dot.”

They continued working, the conversation flowing easily between them. It was as if the barriers that had once stood between them were slowly crumbling, replaced by a growing sense of trust and partnership. Joel found himself enjoying these moments with her, the quiet camaraderie that had begun to take root.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the fields, Joel suggested they head back to the house. Dot agreed, her body feeling the fatigue that came with a day spent in the sun. They walked back together, their pace slow and unhurried, with Dot’s hand resting on her bump as they talked about the day’s work.

When they reached the porch, Joel held the door open for her, and they stepped inside. The house was cool and dim, a welcome respite from the heat outside. Dot made her way to the kitchen, intending to start dinner, but Joel stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Why don’t you sit down for a bit, darlin’? I’ll take care of dinner tonight.”

Dot looked up at him, surprised. “Are you sure? I don’t mind cooking.”

Joel nodded, his expression firm. “I’m sure. You’ve done enough today. Let me handle this.”

Dot hesitated for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “Alright, but I’ll be your assistant if you need one.”

Joel chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Dot settled into a chair at the table, watching as Joel moved around the kitchen with a practiced ease. It was clear that he knew his way around a stove, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for him. He was a man who took care of what needed to be done, no matter how big or small the task.

As Joel worked, he glanced over at Dot now and then, noting the way she seemed more relaxed, more at ease. He found himself wanting to make her feel comfortable, to take some of the burden off her shoulders. It was a new feeling for him, this desire to care for someone else, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Joel,” Dot said after a few minutes of quiet, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you ever think about… what it’ll be like when the baby’s here?”

Joel paused in his work, his back to her as he considered her question. “I think about it, yeah,” he admitted, his voice steady. “A lot, actually.”

Dot looked down at her hands, which were resting on her belly, gently caressing the growing bump. “It’s hard to imagine sometimes. Everything’s going to change.”

Joel turned to face her, leaning against the counter as he met her gaze. “It will, but change isn’t always a bad thing. And darlin’, a child… our child… that’s a good change. It’s a challenge, sure. Caring for a newborn is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. There’ll be sleepless nights, lots of crying, and plenty of moments when you’ll wonder if you’re doing it all wrong.”

As he spoke, Joel crossed the room and knelt down beside her, his presence warm and comforting. He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of hers, which was resting on her bump. The touch was tender, reassuring, and Dot felt a shiver of surprise at the intimacy of the gesture. But as Joel’s hand began to caress her belly, she found herself welcoming it, loving the feeling of his large, warm hands on her skin, grounding her in the moment.

“But,” Joel continued, his voice softening as he looked up at her, “it’s also one of the most beautiful things you’ll ever experience. You’ll discover a kind of love you didn’t even know your heart was capable of. It’s a love that grows with every smile, every tiny hand that grips your finger, every moment you hold our baby close and feel them breathe.”

Dot’s eyes softened, but there was a hint of sadness that lingered in them, a shadow that Joel could see all too clearly. She looked down at their joined hands, gently caressing her belly together. “I’m scared, Joel,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared I won’t be enough. That I’ll let this baby down.”

Joel’s heart ached at her words, and he squeezed her hand gently, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “You won’t, darlin’. You’ve got a heart bigger than you know. You’re gonna be a great mother, and our baby… our baby’s lucky to have you.”

Dot looked at him, her eyes searching his for reassurance. “You really think so?”

Joel nodded, his voice steady and comforting. “I know so. And you’re not alone in this, darlin’. We’re in it together, every step of the way.”

She offered him a small, grateful smile, though the sadness in her eyes remained, a reminder of the losses she had endured, the dreams that had been left behind.

Sensing her need for something lighter, Joel cleared his throat and let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “You know,” he began, a hint of playfulness in his tone, “there are other changes about having a baby too. Like the first time you realize that diapers don’t just get dirty—they get downright explosive.”

Dot’s eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a small, unexpected laugh. “Explosive?”

“Oh yeah,” Joel replied, chuckling along with her. “You’ll be amazed at what a little baby can do. One minute, you’re holding this sweet, peaceful bundle of joy, and the next… well, let’s just say you’ll never look at mustard the same way again.”

Dot’s laughter grew, the sound light and genuine, easing some of the tension that had been building inside her. Joel grinned, pleased to see her smiling, and continued with his lighthearted tales.

“And then there’s the time when they start talking,” Joel said, still kneeling beside her, his hands resting warmly on her belly. “You think you’re ready for it, but when that first word comes out, it’ll knock the wind right out of you. And don’t get me started on when they start walking. You’ll be chasing them all over the place, and you’ll swear they’ve got rocket fuel in those little legs.”

Dot was laughing now, her earlier sadness momentarily forgotten as she listened to Joel’s stories. There was a warmth between them, something that felt like the beginnings of a new chapter, one filled with hope and possibility.

“And then, of course, there’s the first time they spit up on you right after you’ve finally gotten them to sleep,” Joel added with a mock grimace. “You’ll think it’s the worst thing in the world, but looking back, you’ll laugh about it.”

Dot shook her head, still smiling as she wiped a tear from her eye. “It sounds like it’s going to be a wild ride.”

“It will be,” Joel agreed, his voice softening as he looked at her. “But it’s worth every second. And when you hold our baby in your arms for the first time… well, that’s a feeling you’ll never forget.”

Dot’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of wistfulness as she gazed at him. “You must miss it… being a father.”

Joel’s expression grew somber for a moment, the memories of Sarah flickering behind his eyes. He cleared his throat, pushing the sadness aside as he forced a smile. “I do,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “But I’m grateful for the time I had with her. And I’m looking forward to what’s ahead.”

Dot nodded, her heart heavy with empathy for the man kneeling beside her. She could see the strength in him, the resilience that had carried him through so much loss. And in that moment, she felt a deep sense of gratitude for his presence in her life, for the way he had taken her in and given her a place to belong.

Joel reached out and gently squeezed her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “We’re gonna make this work, darlin’. You and me, and our baby. We’re gonna be just fine.”

Dot squeezed his hand back, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with unspoken understanding. It wasn’t just about the baby anymore—it was about the life they were starting to build together, the partnership that was slowly taking shape.

Finally, Joel cleared his throat and stood up, breaking the moment with a lighthearted grin. “Now, how about I finish this dinner before we burn the house down?”

Dot laughed, the sound a welcome release from the emotions that had been swirling inside her. “I think that’s a good idea.”

They spent the rest of the evening in a comfortable rhythm, moving around the kitchen together as they prepared and shared their meal. The conversation was light, filled with stories and laughter, and it felt like a small victory, a sign that they were finding their way through the challenges and toward something stronger.

As they cleaned up after dinner, Dot handed Joel a dish just as he reached for it, their movements synchronized in a way that spoke of growing familiarity. It was a small thing, but it felt significant—a sign that they were beginning to understand each other in ways that went beyond words.

When the dishes were done, they lingered in the kitchen for a moment, the warmth of the evening wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Dot felt a sense of peace, a quiet contentment that she hadn’t felt in a long time. And as she looked at Joel, she realized that this, whatever it was they were building together, was worth holding on to.

“Goodnight, Joel,” she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” Joel replied, his smile gentle as he watched her head toward the stairs that led to their rooms. “Sleep well.”

Dot gave him one last smile before heading up the stairs, leaving Joel standing in the quiet of the kitchen, his thoughts lingering on the woman who had come into his life and changed it in ways he hadn’t expected. He knew there were challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, he felt ready to face them.

–

The days had grown shorter, the crispness of fall settling over the farm as October gave way to November. Dot found herself adjusting more to life on the farm, her routines becoming familiar, comforting even. But with the baby’s due date approaching, Joel had become more insistent that she take it easy.

One morning, as the sun filtered through the kitchen windows, Dot entered the living room to find Joel standing beside a large oak desk that hadn’t been there the night before. Her books were stacked neatly on a newly installed shelf, the typewriter Joel had seen her use once or twice placed prominently on the desk. He turned to her with a small, proud smile, clearly pleased with his work.

“Morning, darlin’,” Joel greeted her, a warmth in his voice that made Dot’s heart flutter. “Thought it was about time you had a proper space for your writing.”

Dot’s eyes widened as she took in the setup, her hand instinctively resting on her bump. “Joel, this is… you did all this?”

He nodded, wiping his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder. “Made the desk myself. Thought you’d appreciate somethin’ sturdy. And I know you’ve been itchin’ to get back to your writing, so I figured now’s as good a time as any.”

Dot walked over to the desk, running her fingers over the smooth surface. The wood was polished to a rich sheen, the craftsmanship solid and precise. She couldn’t help but smile, touched by the effort Joel had put into creating this space for her.

“It’s beautiful, Joel,” she said softly, looking up at him. “Thank you.”

Joel’s smile widened, and he reached out to gently touch her arm. “You’re welcome, darlin’. I just want you to take it easy. You’ve been workin’ hard around here, and I thought maybe it’s time you did somethin’ for yourself. Read a bit, write if you feel like it.”

Dot felt a warmth spread through her chest, a mixture of gratitude and something else, something that made her heart race a little faster when Joel was near. She had noticed it more and more lately—the way her eyes would linger on him when he worked around the farm, the way her pulse quickened whenever he smiled at her. Joel was older, yes, but he was strong, his body still fit and toned from years of hard work. And despite the gruff exterior, there was a kindness in him, a gentleness that drew her in.

As she sat down at the desk, Dot looked up at Joel, her gaze lingering on the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” she said, her voice soft.

“I wanted to,” Joel replied simply, his eyes meeting hers. “You’ve brought a lot of life back into this house, Dot. Just tryin’ to return the favor.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow warmer, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Dot felt her cheeks flush, and she quickly looked down at the typewriter, her fingers brushing over the keys.

“I’ll try to get back to writing,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “It’s been a while, but I miss it.”

Joel nodded, his hand resting on the back of her chair. “No rush, darlin’. Just take your time. The desk’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

Dot smiled up at him, her heart swelling with affection. “Thank you, Joel. Really.”

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back, a quiet, thoughtful look in his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

As the days passed, Dot found herself spending more time in her new office space, occasionally writing but mostly just enjoying the comfort of the room Joel had created for her. It felt like a small sanctuary, a place where she could relax and let her mind wander. But as her belly grew, so did the aches and pains that came with carrying a child. Joel noticed it too, the way she winced when she stood up too quickly or how she shifted in her chair, trying to find a more comfortable position.

One evening, after dinner, Joel found Dot in the living room, her hand pressed to the small of her back as she stretched, trying to relieve the tension that had settled there. He watched her for a moment, concern etched in his features, before stepping forward.

“Back botherin’ you again?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Dot nodded, sighing softly as she tried to ease the pain. “Yeah, it’s been aching all day. I can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what I do.”

Without a word, Joel moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her to sit down on the edge of the couch. Dot looked up at him in surprise, but he just offered her a small, reassuring smile.

“Let me see if I can help,” he said, his voice low and soothing.

Dot hesitated for a moment, then nodded, letting herself relax as Joel’s hands moved to her back. His touch was firm but careful, his fingers kneading the muscles that had tightened from carrying the weight of the baby. Dot closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the tension began to melt away under his skilled hands.

“That feel better?” Joel asked, his voice close to her ear.

Dot nodded, her eyes still closed. “Much better. Thank you, Joel.”

“Anytime, darlin’,” he replied, his voice warm.

As Joel continued to massage her back, Dot couldn’t help but notice how close they were, how his breath tickled the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She felt her heart begin to race again, a flutter of nervous excitement in her chest. When had she started to feel this way about him? And did he feel the same?

Joel’s hands moved lower, working out the knots that had formed along her spine, and Dot bit her lip to keep from letting out a contented sigh. She didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to lose the warmth of his touch. But as his hands stilled, she felt a pang of disappointment.

“All done,” Joel said softly, his hands resting gently on her lower back.

Dot opened her eyes, feeling a flush of warmth in her cheeks as she turned to look at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly.

Joel’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Dot’s gaze flickered to his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel that closeness she had been craving. But before she could act on the impulse, Joel pulled back slightly, clearing his throat as he stepped away.

“Glad I could help,” he said, his voice a little rough.

Dot smiled, trying to shake off the lingering tension. “You did. I feel much better.”

Joel nodded, the warmth in his eyes still there, but tempered by something else, something cautious. “You should get some rest, darlin’. It’s been a long day.”

Dot nodded, standing up slowly, her hand resting on her bump. “I will. Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight, darlin’,” Joel replied, his voice soft as he watched her head toward the stairs.

As Dot climbed the stairs to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder if Joel had felt the same pull she had, that magnetic attraction that had been growing between them. And as she lay in bed that night, her thoughts were filled with the memory of his touch, the way his hands had felt on her back, so warm and strong. She didn’t know where this was leading, but she knew one thing for certain—she was no longer afraid of it.

-

The next few days passed in a blur of routine and quiet moments, but the tension between Joel and Dot continued to build. It was in the way their hands brushed when they passed each other a tool, the way Joel’s gaze lingered on her a little too long when he thought she wasn’t looking. And Dot, for her part, found herself stealing glances at him whenever she could, admiring the way his muscles moved under his shirt as he worked, the strength and solidity of him.

One afternoon, as the sun was beginning to set, Joel found Dot sitting on the porch, her feet propped up on the railing as she watched the colors of the sky shift from blue to pink to orange. He approached quietly, his hands in his pockets, and sat down beside her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Dot said softly, not taking her eyes off the horizon.

“Sure is,” Joel agreed, though his gaze was fixed on her. “How’re you feelin’, darlin’?”

Dot turned to him, her heart fluttering at the concern in his eyes. “I’m alright. Tired, but alright.”

Joel nodded, his hand reaching out to rest on hers. “You’ve been doin’ a lot. You should take it easy.”

Dot looked down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat. “I know. I just… I don’t like sitting still for too long.”

Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “I can tell. But you need to rest up, especially with our baby coming soon. You’ve been workin’ hard, and I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

Dot smiled at his concern, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “I promise I’ll try to take it easy. It’s just… I like being busy. It helps keep my mind off things.”

Joel’s gaze softened, and he shifted closer to her, their shoulders almost touching. “I get that, darlin’. But you don’t have to carry everything on your own. I’m here, remember?”

Dot looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat at the closeness of his face, the sincerity in his eyes. “I know, Joel. And I’m grateful for that. More than you know.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Dot’s heart raced as she looked at him, her thoughts a jumble of emotions she wasn’t sure how to express. She knew she was attracted to him, drawn to his strength, his kindness, the way he made her feel safe and cared for. But there was more to it than that—something deeper, something that scared and excited her in equal measure.

Joel’s hand tightened slightly on hers, and she saw the same uncertainty in his eyes, the same hesitance. But then, as if some unspoken agreement passed between them, he leaned in, closing the small distance between them.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if they were both testing the waters. Dot’s heart pounded in her chest, her lips tingling with the warmth of his. She felt a rush of emotions—relief, excitement, and something that felt a lot like hope. She let herself lean into the kiss, her free hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

Joel responded by deepening the kiss, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. There was a tenderness in his touch, a carefulness that made her feel cherished, wanted. Dot sighed softly against his lips, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she let herself get lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts. Joel’s hand remained on her cheek, his thumb still caressing her skin, as if he couldn’t bear to break the contact.

“Dot…” Joel began, his voice husky, full of emotion he couldn’t quite put into words.

Dot opened her eyes, looking up at him with a mixture of affection and longing. “Joel, I…”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over her lips, silencing her. “You don’t have to say anything, darlin’. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel. How much you mean to me.”

Dot felt a tear slip down her cheek, but it wasn’t one of sadness—it was one of relief, of joy at knowing that the feelings she had been wrestling with were shared. “I care about you too, Joel. More than I ever thought I could.”

Joel’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss her again, this time with more confidence, more certainty. The kiss was sweeter, filled with the promise of something new, something neither of them had expected but both of them wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dot felt a warmth spread through her, pooling in her belly and radiating out to every part of her body. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted this, needed this, until now. She let herself sink into the sensation, into the safety of Joel’s arms, feeling a sense of rightness that had been missing for so long.

When they finally pulled apart again, Joel rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in soft, warm puffs against her skin. “Dot, I don’t want to rush you, but… I want you to know that I’m here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Dot smiled, her heart full as she looked into his eyes. “I know, Joel. And I’m not going anywhere either.”

They sat there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the porch fading away. It was just them, and it felt like the beginning of something they both needed.

“Maybe we should head inside,” Joel suggested softly, his hand still cradling her cheek.

Dot nodded, her breath catching as she saw the unspoken question in his eyes. She knew what he was asking, what he was hoping for, and she found herself wanting it too, more than anything.

Joel stood up first, offering her his hand, and she took it without hesitation, letting him pull her to her feet. They walked into the house together, the warmth of the living room wrapping around them as they crossed the threshold.

Joel hesitated for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at her as if to make sure she was still with him. Dot smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

They climbed the stairs slowly, the anticipation building with each step, until they reached the landing where their bedrooms were. Joel paused outside her door, his hand still holding hers as he turned to face her.

“Dot… are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

Dot nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m sure, Joel.”

That was all he needed to hear. Joel opened the door to her room and led her inside, closing it softly behind them. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn, casting a warm, intimate glow over the space. Joel turned to her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desire, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

He stepped closer, his hands coming up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. “I want this to be right for you, darlin’. I want you to feel safe, loved.”

Dot smiled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I do, Joel. I’ve never felt safer.”

With that, Joel leaned in and kissed her again, his lips warm and inviting. This time, the kiss was more urgent, more passionate, and Dot found herself responding with equal fervor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against her.

Joel’s hands moved down her sides, gently caressing every curve of her body, lingering over the gentle swell of her belly. Dot shivered under his touch, a mixture of anticipation and desire coursing through her. The tension that had been building between them for weeks was finally coming to a head, and she could feel the heat rising between them.

Joel leaned in, pressing soft kisses along her neck, his breath warm against her skin. As his lips moved lower, he began to undo the buttons of her dress, taking his time with each one, revealing more of her skin with every soft press of his lips. Dot’s breath hitched as he bared her shoulders, the cool air contrasting with the warmth of his touch. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue.

As her dress fell to the floor, Joel’s hands traced the curve of her belly, his touch reverent, as if he were worshiping the life growing inside her. He dropped to his knees, his lips following the path his hands had taken, pressing gentle kisses to the swell of her abdomen. Dot’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him, the sight of him on his knees before her, his hands and lips so tender, filling her with a deep, overwhelming emotion.

Joel looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Dot,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Dot’s heart fluttered at his words, and she tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against hers. Joel stood, quickly shedding his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers. As he stepped out of his breeches, his cock sprang free, thick and ready, and Dot felt a rush of heat flood her body at the sight of him.

Joel reached for her again, his hands sliding down her back to undo the last fastenings of her undergarments, letting them drop to the floor. He pulled her close, his hands running up and down her back, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body against his. Dot leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she felt his hardness against her belly.

He guided her gently to the bed, laying her down on the soft sheets, his eyes drinking in the sight of her laid out before him. Dot’s heart raced as she watched him, her anticipation building with every second. Joel knelt beside her, his hands running along her thighs, gently spreading her legs as he settled between them. His eyes were fixed on hers as he leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin just above her knee, kissing a slow path up her thigh.

Dot gasped as his lips moved higher, his breath warm against her skin, sending shivers of pleasure through her. When he finally reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his hands gently holding her hips as he looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“Joel…” Dot whispered, her voice trembling with need.

“I got you, darlin’.” 

Without another word, Joel lowered his head between her thighs, his tongue slipping between her folds, finding the sensitive bud at her center. Dot cried out, her hips jerking at the sudden surge of pleasure, but Joel held her steady, his hands firm on her hips as he continued his ministrations. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, exploring her with a skill and tenderness that left her breathless.

Dot’s hands clenched the sheets as her big belly wouldn’t let her hold on to the thick of Joel’s salt & pepper hair, her back arching as the pleasure built inside her, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Joel’s mouth was relentless, his tongue working her with a steady rhythm that drove her closer and closer to the edge. And when he added his fingers, sliding them inside her with a gentle but insistent pressure, pressing on her back wall over and over again, Dot’s control shattered. She came with a cry, her body shaking with the intensity of it, her thighs trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Joel didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his mouth and fingers working her through her climax, until she was left panting and spent, her body melting into the bed. When he finally lifted his head, his lips glistening with her arousal, Dot could only look at him in dazed wonder, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Joel… that was…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I know… so good, darlin’... you taste so good.”

He smiled at her, a satisfied, almost smug look in his eyes as he moved up her body, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Dot moaned into his mouth, tasting herself on his lips, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel all of him against her.

As Joel positioned himself between her legs, he paused, his hand resting on her belly, his eyes searching hers. “Are you okay, darlin’? Is this okay?”

Dot nodded, her hand covering his on her belly. “Yes, Joel. I need you. Please.”

With a groan of desire, Joel pushed into her, filling her slowly, letting her adjust to the size of him. Dot gasped at the sensation, the fullness, the heat of him inside her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. Joel’s grip on her hips tightened as he began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers.

Dot’s breath hitched as he filled her again and again, her body responding to his with a need she hadn’t realized she had. The weight of him, the strength in his arms as he held her close, the way his hips moved against hers—it was all too much, and yet not enough. She needed more, needed him to take her higher, to push her over the edge again.

“Joel… please,” she begged, her voice trembling with need.

Joel’s eyes darkened with desire, and he shifted, pulling her hips up slightly so he could go deeper, his movements becoming more urgent, more insistent. Dot cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders as she felt herself being pushed closer and closer to the edge.

When she came again, it was with a cry of his name, her body tightening around him, pulling him deeper as she shattered beneath him. Joel groaned, his hips bucking as he found his own release, his cock pulsing inside her as he spilled into her, his hands holding her hips in a bruising grip.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies still joined, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Joel’s hand moved to her belly again, caressing the curve of it, his eyes filled with a tender, almost possessive emotion.

“Our baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

She smiled up at him, her hand coming to rest over his on her belly. “I love you, Joel.”

“I love you too, darlin’,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “More than I ever thought possible.”

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back slightly, his eyes still fixed on hers. “You’re everything to me, Dot. Everything.”

Dot’s heart swelled with love for the man above her, the man who had become her partner, her lover, the father of her child. No questions asked. As they lay together, their bodies still entwined, she knew that this was where she belonged, with Joel, with their baby, in this home they had built together.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten for a little while. 

- 

The weeks that followed their first night together were some of the happiest Dot had ever known. The intimacy they had discovered that night became a regular part of their lives, a natural extension of the deepening bond between them. Joel was attentive, always careful with her, mindful of her growing belly and the changes her body was going through as her pregnancy progressed.

They quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm, their days filled with the familiar routines of farm life, and their nights spent wrapped up in each other. The physical connection they had discovered only grew stronger, and it wasn’t long before they found themselves stealing moments together whenever they could—whether it was a slow morning in bed, a quick encounter in the barn, or a quiet evening in the living room after dinner.

One lazy Sunday morning, Dot woke to the feel of Joel’s hand resting on her belly, his thumb gently brushing over the swell of it. She smiled, still half-asleep, and snuggled closer to him, her back pressing against his chest.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled the back of her neck.

“Morning,” Dot replied, her voice soft and content.

They had started sharing a bed shortly after their first time together, the master bedroom becoming their shared sanctuary. It was a decision that had felt natural, as if it was always meant to be this way. Joel had taken to sleeping with his hand on her belly, his touch a constant reassurance that he was there, that they were in this together.

Dot turned in his arms, facing him, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Sleep well?”

Joel grinned, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip. “Always do when I’m with you.”

Their kisses deepened, a slow burn igniting between them as their bodies pressed closer together. Despite the growing weight of her pregnancy, Dot found herself craving Joel more and more, and he was always eager to oblige. He was careful, always mindful of her condition, but there was no mistaking the hunger in his touch, the desire that flared between them whenever they were close.

They made love slowly, lazily, taking their time to savor each other, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over their entwined bodies. Joel was gentle, his hands and lips worshiping her, his every movement careful and deliberate. Dot arched into him, her breath hitching as he filled her, the familiar sensation sending a shiver of pleasure through her.

“Joel…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

He responded with a low groan, his hands gripping her hips as he rocked into her, his gaze never leaving hers. Dot felt the tension building inside her, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending her tumbling over the edge. She cried out his name, her hands clutching at his shoulders as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Joel followed soon after, his own release crashing through him as he buried his face in her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin. They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies still joined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

Finally, Joel pulled back slightly, his hand gently caressing her belly as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You okay, darlin’?”

Dot smiled up at him, her heart swelling with love for the man above her. “I’m perfect,” she whispered, her voice filled with contentment.

They spent the rest of the morning in bed, talking quietly, sharing soft kisses, and basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. It was a morning like so many others they had shared since they had decided to fully commit to each other, a morning that felt like the calm before the storm.

It was later that afternoon when the storm finally hit.

Joel was outside, repairing a fence near the barn, when he noticed the familiar truck of his father-in-law, Reverend Hargrove pulling up the long gravel driveway. Straightening up, Joel wiped the sweat from his brow and set his tools aside, watching as the reverend stepped out of the truck, holding something in his hand. There was a certain tension in the older man’s posture that immediately put Joel on edge.

“Afternoon, Reverend,” Joel greeted as he approached, his tone polite but guarded.

“Afternoon, Joel,” the reverend replied, offering a tight smile. He hesitated for a moment, glancing toward the house. “Is Dot around? I’ve got something here for her.”

Joel frowned slightly but nodded. “She’s inside. You wanna come in? Have a cup of coffee with us?”

The reverend shook his head, a look of regret passing over his face. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to take a rain check. I just wanted to drop this off. I’ll see you both this weekend for Thanksgiving.”

He handed Joel a letter, and Joel’s heart sank as he read the sender’s name on the envelope. Carson. The knot of anxiety that had been building in his chest tightened, and he felt a wave of anger begin to rise. He nodded curtly, his jaw clenched as he accepted the letter.

“Thanks for bringing this by,” Joel said, his voice strained.

The reverend gave him a concerned look, sensing the tension. “Everything alright, Joel?”

Joel forced a tight smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. We’ll see you this weekend.”

The reverend nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. He gave Joel a final pat on the shoulder before turning to head back to his truck. Joel watched him go, his grip on the letter tightening as the sound of the truck’s engine faded into the distance. The moment the reverend was out of sight, Joel turned and stalked back to the house, the anger simmering just below the surface.

When he stepped into the living room, he found Dot standing by her desk, arching her back and rubbing the base of her spine with one hand under her almost due belly. She looked around when she heard him enter, her expression brightening when she saw him.

“Hey, Joel,” she said, smiling softly.

“Dot,” Joel replied, his voice tight as he held up the envelope. “This came for you.”

Dot’s smile faltered as she saw the envelope, confusion knitting her brows together. “Who’s it from?”

“Carson,” Joel said, his tone clipped, barely containing his frustration.

Dot’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the name on the envelope, her heart skipping a beat. Carson. She hadn’t thought about him in months, not since she had agreed to marry Joel and start a new life on the farm. But seeing his name now, written out in neat, familiar handwriting, brought back a flood of memories she had long since buried.

She reached out to take the envelope, her hands trembling slightly. Joel watched her closely, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else—something more vulnerable, more afraid.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Joel spat out, his voice rising as the emotions he had been trying to suppress began to spill over. “After all this time? After everything we’ve built together, now he decides to write?”

Dot flinched at the intensity of his tone, her heart aching as she saw the pain and anger in his eyes. “Joel, I—”

“He’s the father, Dot,” Joel interrupted, his voice laced with bitterness. “He’s the real father of this baby. Maybe this is what you’ve been waiting for, huh? A way out. Maybe now you can finally go back to the big city, to the life you really wanted.”

Dot’s eyes widened in shock, tears welling up as she realized just how deeply Joel’s fear of abandonment ran. “Joel, no, that’s not—”

“Isn’t it?” Joel cut her off, his voice growing louder, more frantic. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Your typewriter’s been gathering dust, you haven’t written a damn thing since you got here. Maybe you miss the city, maybe you miss that life. Hell, maybe you miss him.”

Dot’s hand tightened on the letter, her heart breaking as she saw the hurt and anger in Joel’s eyes, ignoring the growing pressure at the base of her belly. But she didn’t sob, didn’t let the tears fall or the pain show. Instead, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she scanned the contents of the letter. As she read the words, a bitter chuckle escaped her lips, and she tossed the letter aside, shaking her head.

“Joel,” she called quietly to him, her voice trembling with both anger and sadness. 

But Joel wasn’t listening. He was too far gone, his anger and fear clouding his judgment, making it impossible for him to hear the reassurance in her words.

“Maybe you miss him…” Joel snapped, his voice harsh as he paced the room, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment to swoop in and take you away, take everything we’ve built together.”

Dot shook her head, tears spilling over but still refusing to sob, refusing to let herself fall apart. “Joel, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. I chose this life. Carson is in the past.”

But Joel was too deep in his own pain to hear her, his voice rising in desperation. “How can I believe that? How do I know you won’t just leave the moment things get tough? How do I know this isn’t what you’ve wanted all along?”

Dot’s heart ached at his words, the accusations cutting deeper than she had ever thought possible. “Because I chose you–I keep on choosing you every day, I–” But before she could say anything more, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen, doubling her over with a gasp.

“Dot?” Joel’s voice immediately shifted from anger to concern, his eyes widening as he saw the pain on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Dot’s eyes went wide as she felt a sudden rush of fluid between her legs, her heart pounding with realization. “Joel… my water just broke.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the gravity of the situation crashing down on them both. Then, in unison, they both cursed.

“Shit!”

Joel sprang into action, his anger forgotten as he rushed to Dot’s side, wrapping his arms around her to support her as she tried to steady herself.

“Alright, darlin’, it’s okay,” Joel said, his voice calm but urgent as he guided her toward the door but she wouldn’t move. “We’re gonna get you to the clinic. Just breathe, okay?”

Dot shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the pain intensified. “Joel… there’s no time. I can feel the head.”

Joel’s eyes widened in panic, but he quickly masked it, his focus shifting entirely to Dot and their baby. “Shit… okay, okay, we’ll do this here. We’ll do this right here.”

Dot nodded again, her body trembling as another contraction hit, stronger than the last. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the sturdy oak table he had made for her, where her typewriter now sat. Joel guided her back to her oak desk, her grip on his arm tight as she struggled to breathe through the pain. 

“Here, darlin’, hold onto the table,” Joel instructed, helping her to lean against it. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Dot did as he said, gripping the edge of the table with one hand while the other clung to his arm. She could feel the pressure building, the baby moving lower with each contraction, and she knew there was no turning back now.

“How long?” He asked her.

“Two days,” She gasped out and he cursed out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked her.

“I thought it was just normal… just the discomfort… but…” Dot admitted through gritted teeth, her voice strained with the effort of speaking.

Joel’s heart ached with guilt as he realized she had been in pain all this time, trying to bear it alone. “I’m sorry, Dot,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry…” 

Dot nodded, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as she felt another contraction rip through her. She braced herself against the table, her knees buckling as the pain intensified, her body urging her to push.

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” Dot cried, her voice breaking as the fear and pain overwhelmed her.

“Yes, you can,” Joel said firmly, his voice filled with determination as he positioned himself behind her, his hands gently supporting her hips. “You’re the strongest woman I know, Dot. You can do this. You’re not alone. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Dot’s breath hitched at his words, and she nodded, “Joel I think I can feel the head.” 

Joel wasted no time, getting on his knees, hiking up her skirt and pulling down her underwear. She was bulging, the head heavily sat behind her folds. She could feel the baby beginning to emerge into a crow, the intense pressure and pain making it almost impossible to think, but she focused on Joel’s voice, on his steady, reassuring presence beside her.

“Alright, darlin’, you need to push,” Joel instructed, his voice calm but urgent. “You can do this. I’ve got you.”

Dot took a deep breath, bracing herself against the table as she bore down, pushing with all her might. The pain was intense, a searing, tearing sensation that left her gasping for breath, but she kept going, kept pushing, Joel’s voice in her ear, his hands steadying her as she fought to bring their baby into the world.

“That’s it, Dot,” Joel encouraged, his voice filled with awe and pride as he watched their child begin to emerge. “You’re doing so good. Just a little more, darlin’, you’re almost there. Breathe, darlin’, breathe…”

Dot’s breathing grew more erratic, her body trembling as another powerful contraction ripped through her. She clung to the edge of the table, her knuckles white, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Hoo… hoo… haa… haa…” Dot panted, trying to focus on her breathing, trying to stay calm even as the pain intensified. “Joel… it’s too big… I can’t… I can’t do this…”

“Yes, you can, darlin’,” Joel reassured her, his voice strong and steady as he supported her, his hands firm on her hips. “You’re doing so good. Just keep breathing, keep pushing. You’ve got this.”

Dot moaned, the pain overwhelming her as she felt the baby moving lower, the pressure almost unbearable. “It hurts… it hurts so much…”

“I know, I know, darlin’,” Joel whispered, his heart aching as he watched her struggle. “But you’re almost there. Just a little more, and our baby will be here. You’re so strong, Dot. You can do this.”

Dot nodded, tears streaming down her face as she took another deep breath, her voice trembling as she whimpered, “Hoo… hoo… Jooooeeeel!”

With a deep, primal groan, Dot bore down again, pushing with all her might, the pain searing through her like fire. “It’s too big… oh God, it’s too big…”

Joel’s hands tightened on her hips, his voice filled with awe as he saw the baby’s head emerging. “You’re doing it, Dot. I can see the head. Just one more big push, darlin’. You’re almost there.”

Dot cried out, her body shaking with the effort as she pushed again, harder this time, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The pain was excruciating, the pressure almost too much to bear, but she kept going, kept pushing, determined to bring their child into the world.

“Haa… haa… haa…” Dot panted, her voice a mix of desperation and determination as she felt the baby’s head begin to fully crown. She gritted her teeth, her entire body trembling as she bore down once more, the intensity of the pain nearly blinding her.

Finally, with one last, agonizing push, Dot felt the baby’s head slip-free, the sudden relief mingling with the lingering pain. She gasped for breath, her body shaking with exhaustion, but she didn’t stop, didn’t let herself rest.

“You’re almost there, darlin’,” Joel encouraged, his voice filled with emotion as he supported her. “Just one more push, and the shoulders will be out. You’re so close, Dot. You’re so close.”

Dot nodded, tears streaming down her face as she gathered all her strength for one final push. She bore down with everything she had, a primal scream tearing from her throat as she felt the baby’s shoulders slip free, followed by the rest of the tiny body. The overwhelming relief and release left her trembling and gasping for breath.

Joel’s hands were there, steady and sure, catching their child as the baby entered the world. He let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and awe as he cradled the tiny, squirming body in his hands. The baby let out a loud, feisty cry, its voice filling the room, a sound that brought tears to Joel’s eyes.

“You did it, Dot,” Joel whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he looked up at her, his eyes shining with love and pride. “You did it, darlin’. Our baby… our beautiful baby.”

Dot collapsed against the table, her body trembling with exhaustion, but a soft, tired smile crossed her lips as she heard the baby’s cries. She turned to look at Joel, her heart swelling with love and relief as she saw him cradling their child, his eyes filled with tears of joy.

“Hi, baby,” Dot whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she held out her arms for the baby. “Hi there, little one. You’re finally here.”

Joel carefully wrapped the baby in the throw blanket from the couch, gently placing the tiny bundle in Dot’s arms. She looked down at their child, tears streaming down her face as she traced a finger over the baby’s soft cheek, marveling at the tiny, perfect features.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dot cooed, her voice filled with love as she held the baby close, feeling the warmth and weight of their child in her arms. “You’re so beautiful… so perfect…”

Joel’s heart swelled with love and pride as he watched Dot cradle their baby, the sight of them together filling him with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and awe. He pressed a soft kiss to Dot’s temple, his voice thick with emotion as he whispered, “I love you, Dot. I love you so much.”

Dot smiled up at him, her eyes shining with tears as she whispered back, “I love you too, Joel. So much.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, in the new life they had created together. The argument, the fear, and the pain of the past few hours melted away, leaving only love, only the overwhelming joy of holding their child in their arms.

As the baby continued to cry, Dot felt another wave of contractions rip through her, the pain sharp and sudden. She gasped, her body tensing as she realized what was happening. “Joel… the after birth… it’s coming…”

Joel’s eyes widened in realization, and he quickly moved to support her, his hands steadying her as she pushed once more, the placenta slipping free with a rush of fluid. Dot let out a shaky breath, her body trembling with exhaustion as she finally collapsed against the table, spent and drained.

“You did it, darlin’,” Joel whispered, his voice filled with awe as he gently cleaned her up, his hands tender as he worked. “You did so good… you’re amazing, Dot.”

Joel carried his wife into the guest bedroom next to the kitchen, laying down several blankets for Dot to lay out on as he cleaned her and the baby up. He took the scissors from the kitchen and, with trembling hands, cut the umbilical cord, severing the final connection between Dot and the baby. He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes as he looked down at their child, a feeling of overwhelming love washing over him.

“Welcome to the world, little one,” Joel whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he gently kissed the baby’s forehead. “You’re so loved… so, so loved…”

Dot watched him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude for the man who had been by her side through everything. She reached out and touched his arm, her voice soft and filled with emotion as she said, “Joel… thank you… for everything…”

Joel turned to her, his eyes filled with tears as he knelt beside her, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “Don’t thank me, darlin’. I’m the one who’s grateful… for you… for this beautiful life we’ve created together.”

Dot smiled, tears streaming down her face as she looked down at their baby, the love she felt for both of them overwhelming her. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Joel leaned in and kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers as he whispered, “I’m so lucky to have you, Dot. So damn lucky… Please, don’t ever leave me. Don’t take our son away from me. I can’t lose you… either of you…”

Dot’s heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice, and she shook her head, her voice filled with love and reassurance as she whispered back, “I’m not going anywhere, Joel. This is where I belong. With you… with our son… with our family…”

“But Carson…”

“Carson wrote to congratulate me. Congratulate us and our baby...”

Joel let out a shaky breath, his tears mingling with hers as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he whispered, “Thank you, Dot… thank you for giving me this… for giving me everything I never thought I could have again…”

Dot smiled through her tears, her heart overflowing with love for the man who had become her partner, her lover, the father of her child. “I love you, Joel… more than I can ever say…”

Joel kissed her again, his lips tender and filled with all the love he felt for her. “I love you too, Dot… so damn much… And I want more of this… more babies… more life with you…”

Dot let out a soft chuckle, her tears mingling with her laughter as she looked up at him, her eyes shining with love and joy. “More babies, huh?”

Joel grinned, his own tears spilling over as he nodded, his voice filled with hope and longing as he whispered, “Yeah… more babies… a whole house full of them…”

Dot laughed softly, her heart bursting with happiness as she leaned into him, her voice filled with love as she whispered, “I’d like that, Joel… I’d like that a lot…”

They stayed like that, holding each other, holding their son, the future stretching out before them, filled with love, hope, and the promise of more life to come.

[lalunalando]

FMRN - LN4

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, teasing, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), dom!lando, dj lando

songs referenced: FMRN - lilyisthatyou | Eat Your Man (feat. Nelly Furtardo) - Dom Dolla

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

As the bass from the clubs speakers pulsed through your chest, and your seventh vodka orange tipped towards your lips, this is the first night you’d had out with your friends in a long time and you felt amazing.

Jimmyz was a popular club at the best of times, but tonight was extra full with no more admission due to celebrations for the Monaco Grand Prix that had been held earlier that day, and the drivers after party being held in the venue being DJed by none other than Martin Garrix.

Luckily for you, being a Monaco resident now as well as hometown bestfriend to the ever-so-smiley VCARB driver Daniel Ricciardo, your name was front page of the list for admission to the celebrations, as well as a +3 for your friends so you didn’t feel so alone when Danny would eventually get swept away.

What you failed to notice as you danced with your friends, head thrown back in laughter as one of them tried their best provocative moves on you because that’s just the way you all were to each other, was a certain curly haired brit by the bar watching your every move as he chatted to your best mate.

“Lando are you even listening mate? I just told you the funniest story about how I scared the shit out of max in the bathroom and you didn’t even flinch!” Daniel chuckled as he nudged the shoulder of his former teammate, trying to regain his attention.

“Sorry mate I was zoned out, what were you saying?” He responds, trying to focus on the conversation but failing as his eyes keep straying back to your spot on the dancefloor.

“Oh I was just saying I saw a purple cat with blue stripes talking to a crowd of toddlers out the back of the Ferrari garage” Danny said with a grin, waiting to see if he would take the bait.

And he did.

Lando fake laughed like he had been listening and responded with a quick “oh yeah? And then what did max do?”

Daniel couldn’t help himself, booming laugh heard even over the clubs sound system as he catches his friend out.

“Lando you freak, why don’t you stop staring at her and actually go talk to her? It’s better than standing here being a creep while you don’t listen to me anyway” Daniel nudged him

“Wh-who? I was listening to your story? I don’t know what you mean?” Lando stutters out as a blush creeps on him, silently thanking the darkness cloaking the club so no one could see hopefully.

“No you haven’t, you’ve been staring at Bunny since she walked in and I could almost feel your glare through me when I was with her” Daniel chuckled again, nodding his head towards his friend who was still totally unaware on the dance floor.

“Bunny? Is her name really bunny?” The younger driver asks in awe.

“Oh no, but I’ve called her that and only that since we were little, it feels wrong to call her anything else”

”Since you were kids?” Lando pushes for more information. How long has Daniel known the angel dancing in the middle of the club with not a care in the world, totally unaware how she was making him feel.

Were they dating? Has Daniel been lucky enough to touch her? To taste her? Lando wasn’t sure he could handle the answer but he needed to know more.

“Yeah her family moved into the farm next door when we were kids, and even though she’s a few years younger we became best friends. She wasn’t afraid to get on a dirt bike and get a little messy and I liked that about her.” Daniel reflects fondly, the girl being 7 years his junior becoming a sister to him almost instantly back then. Him being her protector ever since.

“So did you ever date? I see how close you are any time she’s around the paddock.” Lando pushes further

“OH GOD NO, I get she’s a pretty girl but that’s my annoying little sister, I could never think of her that way. Plus I’ve been sneaking around with her friend Julie, didn’t want the media to know or to make her uncomfortable about it.” Danny says smiling as he tips his usual cowboy hat towards her friend that had just looked over towards us at the same time, hand in hand with bunny as she twirls her around to the song playing.

“So is she..” Lando starts, feeling a little embarrassed to even ask.

“Single? Yes. Look I’ll even help you out, I’ve been looking for a way to sneak Julie away anyway” And with that, Danny was pushing Lando by the shoulders towards the group of girls.

Unfortunately time was not on Lando’s side, becauses moments before the two could even reach the girls, you were being lifted off the ground by none other than the youngest Leclerc of the pack, Arthur.

As Lando got closer, he couldn’t help but instantly feel jealous of him as he caught bits and pieces of the conversation you were currently engrossed in.

“Did you see me up in the DJ booth!?”

”Yes tutur you were amazing!”

”Did you see I played some Dom Dolla for you? To remind you of home?”

”I loved it, you looked so good up there and you know how much I love a good dance to some Dom!”

Giggling to each other like no one else was in the room, Lando was starting to see red.

Before he could do anything stupid, Daniel noticed and his reflexes kicked in to help his young friend out.

“You know bunny, Lando is going up with Martin in a few minutes, you should join him and check it out!”

“Oh I’m sure Lando doesn’t want me bothering him up there, he has an entire club to amaze with his skills” You respond, smiling at him sweetly.

You couldn’t deny, Lando was one of the most beautiful men you had ever laid eyes on. Being former teammates with Daniel meant you got to watch him back in the garage, preparing for sessions intently, mesmerizing you with how much he cared about his team as well as his sheer determination and passion for the sport.

And post-race sweaty glow Lando? That was a whole different type of god for you to worship.

But you knew he never spared a glance towards you, you were just “Daniel’s annoying little adopted sister” after all.

“No it’s totally fine, I’d love to show you what it's like up there!” Lando couldn’t get the words out fast enough

Holding your hand tightly as to not “lose you in the crowd” or so he said, Lando took you up towards the booth where an eager Martin was waving you both down.

“Bunny! I haven’t seen you since Danny’s birthday in Texas! How’ve you been?” He asks while engulfing you in a hug, ever so familiar with you.

“I’ve been great, Danny’s plants here in Monaco no so much though…” you said with a giggle, confirming the joke he’d made back in Texas about you moving into Daniel’s Monaco residence to “look after it and his plants for him” to have come true.

He lets out a laugh and gives you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning to Lando

“And you my man! P fucking 2 in Monaco! How are you feeling?” Martin asks Lando as he pulls him into a massive hug and pats his back

Lando grins so wide even the Cheshire Cat would be jealous of it.

“Better than any sex I’ve ever had!” Lando laughs and you can’t help but blush at the comment.

You don’t know why, but that made you feel a little jealous and a little intrigued wondering if he truly meant that.

“So what do we owe the pleasure of bunny’s presence up here? She never lets Dan bring her up!” Martin asks, eyeing you curiously with a smirk on his face, not blind to the way your eyes will always find Lando in a room.

“I wanted to show her what it was like, she seems to love it from the floor so why not show her the other side” Lando responds, slipping his arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side, setting butterflies free in your stomach.

After about 20 minutes of Martin and Lando doing their thing and having the entire club on a high, you’re interrupted from your thoughts of watching Lando’s skillful hands at work when he leans closer to you to talk.

“Alright next songs yours princess, what are you feeling?” Lando asks, his hot breath fanning across your neck as he leans down to speak into your ear, making you shiver.

“Oh no it’s okay, I’m enjoying just watching, I wouldn’t even know what to play..” you respond, hoping he can’t see the blush on your face from how close he is.

“I heard you and Arthur talking about that Australian artist before, Dom something? What about one of his songs?” He smiles back before pulling you in between him and Martin.

“Dom Dolla? Yeah that would be cool! Ummm…” you start trying to think of what song could keep the currently energy of the club going as Martin pulls the artist up for you to have a look through. In seconds it catches your eye.

“OH THAT ONE! EAT YOUR MAN! THATS MY FAVORITE!” You say excitedly say as you grab Lando’s arm and point to the screen, before he smiles and nods, beginning to match it’s BPM and tempo to the currently song playing to seamlessly transition it in.

Before you know it, the familiar tune starts flowing through the speakers and you can’t stop yourself.

You’re singing and dancing as best as you can in the small space, as your friends go wild and cheer for you.

“I’ll eat your man, devour him whole

Lickin’ my fingers, I’m in control

Fly like a bird, I’m takin’ it home

Movin’ my body like a nympho

I say it right, now do what I say

Apply the pressure into your veins

Blood on the floor, I’m pushin’ the pain

I let the creatures out of the cage”

Lando can’t help it, he’s looking at you like a man starved.

The way your head is thrown back as you sing along, showing off your neck that he wants nothing more than to leave marks on right now.

The way your hips are moving the the beat, while your hands follow the contours of your body perfectly in the already revealing outfit, calling him to just reach out and touch.

He can’t pull his eyes away, his hands reaching out to grab your hips so he can dance with you, and he’s almost coming undone when you don’t pull away but instead lean back into him closing the gap between you both as you throw your head back onto his shoulder with a laugh and keep your hips moving now in time with his own.

Just as quickly as the embrace started, it was ending with the song.

Having exuded so much energy having a blast up there, but also feeling a little embarrassed that you’d been grinding on Lando without even realizing once you regained yourself post-song, you decided now was the time to excuse yourself for another much needed drink.

“Hey uh, I’m going to head to the bar, thank you so much for bringing me up here, have fun!” And before Lando could stop you or offer to join, you were running away, grabbing your friends on the way through as they laughed and followed.

“So, bunny huh?” Martin asked his friend with a big smirk

“Yeah, bunny huh…” Lando smiled, still watching after you.

After a few round of shots and grabbing another vodka orange, you decided to head back to the dancefloor, now feeling a little less nervous about the earlier exchange.

Lando was saying farewell to the decks, and decided that after grabbing a few shots for confidence he would join you and your friends for a dance, dragging Daniel and Oscar with him. Papaya past and present, a united front to help Lando.

You couldn’t help but keep catching his eyes on you, having been looking around for him as well.

There was no denying it, his hands almost felt like they were burning holes in your skin with how warm they made you feel up there. Causing butterflies in your stomach as well as awakening something in your core.

Martin watched on from the booths, waiting for the perfect moment to put his plan into action to help his curly haired friend.

A few songs after joining your group, Daniel was pulling you slightly away to talk for a moment.

“Bunny, I love you but I’m going to head home now…” He says, trying to put together the best words to ask you the awkward thing he needs to ask.

“Oh that’s okay, I’ll say goodbye to the group and we can go” you say with a smile, not wanting to bother Danny with coming home later and making noise.

“NO - I mean - um - could you possibly stay out a big longer? I was kind of hoping to bring someone home with me right now…” He said shyly, looking over your shoulder at your friend that he thought you were still blissfully unaware he was sneaking around with.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh that caught Lando’s attention, zoning into the conversation you and Daniel were having off to the side.

“Danny, I love you but I’ve known about you and Julie for a while! I’ll find my own way home later, just let me know when it’s safe to return and be safe!” You say light heartedly as you push Julie towards him.

“Don’t worry Dan, i’ll take care of her and make sure she’s safe” Lando cuts in, throwing his arm around your shoulder again and pulling you into him.

Daniel gives him a knowing smirk, before turning to you and giving his famous smile and kissing your cheek, instantly running away with your friend in tow.

“So its just us now, drinks?” Lando smiles, making you laugh as he grabs your hand and leads you to the bar for another round of shots.

Half an hour later, you’re back on the floor dancing with Lando, a lot closer than you could have ever imagined you’d be.

Your back is against his front, his fingers digging into your hips as his head lays on your shoulder breathing in your perfume again.

Dancing along to some remix currently playing, you feel content and safe with Lando. You want more, but you don’t want to embarrass yourself by telling him and getting rejected.

From the DJ booth, Martin has been watching and knows now is the time to put his plan into action.

As he slowly fades out the song currently finishing, he starts a song he knows you love, and knows it’s the perfect message to convey how you and Lando are so blindly feeling towards eachother.

“Oh. My god. I haven’t heard this in forever” you say as you catch onto the familiar beat, Lando has no idea what he’s in for as you start singing along.

“Can you come fuck me right now?

Parents are home, but my beds too loud

I can take it on the ground

If I get too loud, you can shut my mouth”

Lando has had enough, he can’t hold himself back anymore and he can always blame it on the alcohol if you push him away.

In an instant, he’s flipping you around to face him and crashing his lips to yours.

You are immediately reacting to him, your hands sliding up his shoulders and tangling in the curls on the back of his head, as you grant his tongue the access.

Roaming hands continue down to your ass as the heated kiss only breaks so he can nip at your neck like he’s been wanting to do all night.

As he pulls away, he can’t at smile at the sight in front of him.

Your eyes hazy and filled with lust, mouth still slightly open trying to process it all.

He needs to get you out of here now.

“I know I told Daniel I’d get you home safely, but do you think he’ll mind if it's my home?” He asks with a smirk, you just give him a wild smile back and shake your head.

That’s all he needed, and he’s dragging you out of the club and hailing a taxi.

Barely making it though the car trip with his wandering hands creeping up your skirt, the moment you make it through his apartment doors his lips are instantly attached to yours again as he walks you backwards towards what you assume to be his bedroom.

As your knees hit the edge of his mattress, you fall backwards onto it, dragging him down with you.

Desperate kisses, wandering hands, neither of you can believe this is finally happening.

He pulls back finally to look at you again and make sure you’re okay.

“Hey if you don’t want to do this it's okay, we can put a movie or somethi-“ before he can even finish you give him another kiss.

“Lan, I want this. I want you. I need you.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, it was true,

“God you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that” He growls, attaching his lips back to your neck, biting and bruising, making sure that by tomorrow everyone knows not to touch what’s his.

Hands wandering back up your skirt, he can’t help the growl that comes when he feels the wet spot having formed along the crotch of your thong.

“Who got you this wet angel? You’re already soaked through the slutty piece of lace you pathetically call underwear”

“You Lan, it was all you” you moan out as his fingers brush over the part you need him most again.

He lowers himself down the bed, bunching your skirt up around your waist before ripping your panties in half, not wanting to waste anymore time.

“HEY I really liked that pair” you said with a pout

“I’ll buy you a pair in every fucking colour, now shut up before I shove them in your mouth to keep you quiet.”

Before you can protest, his mouth is on your pussy making you almost scream in pleasure.

Lando is like a man starved, and if you were to be his final meal he would die a happy man.

His tongue lapping your folds, savoring the taste he knows he’ll never get enough of now that he’s had it.

It doesn’t take long and you can feel your orgasm approaching, and almost like he can sense it too, he slips two fingers in and works them in time with his tongue on your clit, making you see white hot stars.

Within a minute you’re screaming his name, coming undone as he laps up every single drop, not wanting to waste a single bit of his new favorite drug.

As you try to regain your breath, Lando removes your top, leaving you in nothing but your bunched up skirt as he leaves a trail of kisses up your body.

“Such pretty sounds you make baby, can’t wait for everyone to know who’s getting them out of you though” he smirks against your neck

“Lan can i.. can i return the favour?” You ask nervously, knowing he’s probably a lot more experienced than you and not wanting to disappoint him, but being too greedy to stop yourself.

“Princess i would love to get head from you, but only for a little bit because i don’t think i can wait to feel you around me much longer” he says with a quick kiss on your lips, before laying down and letting you take the same position he just had.

Unzipping his pants to pull them down, your mouth is already watering at the sight of his pretty dick as it finally springs free from the painfully tight confines of his pants.

“Do you think you can take it baby? Be a good girl and suck it.” He says devilishly as he pulls your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of your face.

Clenching your thighs at the request, you lick the tip to catch the precum already dribbling out, making him hiss.

“Don’t be a tease now princess, you’ve done enough of that tonight.”

You smile up at him through your eyelashes, before taking as much of him into your mouth as you can.

Almost whimpering at the feeling, his hand tighten in your hair as you start using your hand to work the parts you can’t quite reach.

“FUCK that’s it baby, just like that, you’re so fucking good at this holy shit”

Hearing the praise only makes you want to please him even more, as you push yourself to take more of him in, hitting the back of your throat over and over.

“Bunny I’m not going to last much longer with you doing that, need you on my cock already” He growls as he tugs your hair, pulling you off his cock and making you whimper.

“On my lap, now.” He demands as he pulls you up to hover over him, sitting up himself to get a better angle.

“I watched how much of a cocktease you could be all night, making every guy in the room drool over what’s mine. So why don’t you be a good little slut now and ride my cock like i already know your going to be so good at huh?” He says with a smirk as he lowers you onto his cock, making you whine at how full he’s already making you feel

“So full Lan, you’re so fucking big.” You whimper as your head drops to his shoulder.

“Come on baby, you’re taking me so well, just start moving when you settle” He says a little bit softer as he kisses your shoulder

After a few moments, the pain subsides and you can already feel the pleasure building, so you start moving your hips in the same fashion you were moving against him in the club.

“That’s my girl, fuck you feel so good little bun.” He says as he nips at your chest, your back arching in pleasure as you feel him hitting your core with each movement.

You start to feel brave, and decide the grinding isn’t enough for either of you anymore.

Before he can even ask if you’re okay as he feels the position change slightly, he’s faced with the most pornographic scene he could ever imagine.

Your tits are bouncing in his face as you bounce up and down on his cock, feeling his tip hit your g-spot brutally every time you lower, but nothing has ever felt this good before.

Your head thrown back in pleasure, as you grip onto his shoulders for support, nails digging in as a slew of swears and moans come out fo your mouth.

“Fuck bunny just like that, keep bouncing just like that, gonna cum soon” He moans, slapping your ass a few times for good measure and taking note at the sounds you make as he does so for next time.

“Fuck lan I’m gonna cum”

“Me too angel, fuck, where do you want me to cum?” He lets out a strangled moan as he fucks up into you, feeling you start to lose focus as you can no longer think from the pleasure you’re feeling.

“Cum inside me, please lan, need to feel you dripping out of me” you wimper, no longer able to think for yourself

“going to fill you up and make sure everyone knows who you belong to” he grunts, and that’s enough to make the band in you snap.

He feels you tighten around his cock as you’re screaming his name, over and over, causing him to let go finally too as you chase your highs together.

After a few moments of trying to catch your breaths, he drops back down onto the mattress as you remove yourself from him and wimper at the loss of fullness you just felt.

Pulling you down to lay on his chest, he plays with your hair as you lay in silence for a while.

Thoughts are swirling around his head before he finally decides to speak up, not wanting to lose the courage from the post-sex bliss.

“I know its kind of backwards, but would you maybe want to go on a date tomorrow? I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but didn’t think I had a chance” He asks nervously, still running his fingers through your hair.

“I’d love to Lan, and if we’re being honest I thought you just saw me the same way Danny did, I though I was the one who didn’t have a chance” you say while laughing slightly, before leaning up to give him a peck on the lips for reassurance.

“Well now that that’s out of the way, why does Daniel only call you bunny? Do you even have a real name at this point?” He asks as he pokes your side, making you squeal

“He started calling me bunny when we were little because when we would go dirt bike riding really early in the morning my nose would go pink like a bunny, and he also use to make fun of me for my nervous nose twitch thing” you tell him, the story making you smile

“Oh I mean i get it now, at least you got stuck with a cute name. But do you ever wish he’d just call you by your name?”

”Nope, i like bunny. Besides, after i bit him one time and solidified the nickname, it only made sense to keep it.” You said with a big grin, making Lando burst out laughing hearing that you actually bit Daniel.

“So….” He starts after you’ve both been laying in bliss for some time now, “Are you up for round 2 my little rabbit?”

[pucksandpower]

Hi hi. Hope your taking care of yourself. I just want to ask on the grid kids series can i request the drivers being mistaken as grid baby's parents... like shes out with them where people dont know who they are and they get mistaken for being her parents. (you can choose any two drivers if u wanna write it)

Grid Kids: Mistaken Identities

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids learn that sometimes seeing two men with a baby can make people draw the wrong conclusions

Series Masterlist

Max and Charles: Disney Princes

“Why do I feel like we’ve bitten off more than we can chew?” Charles groans, adjusting the collar of his prince costume as they step into the magical world of Tokyo Disneyland.

Max smirks, tugging at his own princely garb. “Because you were easily swayed by a toddler. But why did I let the two of you drag me into this too?”

Your daughter skips ahead, twirling in her Cinderella dress, utterly delighted. “Princess!” She chirps, pointing to herself, and then at them, “Princes!”

Charles laughs, ruffling her hair. “Yes, yes, but remember, you owe me big time.”

Suddenly, a small horde of children swarm around Charles, their eyes wide with awe. “Prince Charming!” One of them squeals, reaching out to touch the hem of his outfit.

Max can’t help but chuckle. “Look at you, a hit with the kiddos already.”

Charles, looking mildly panicked but trying to keep his composure, kneels down, offering his best princely smile. “Hello, little ones. Are you enjoying your day at the castle?”

While Charles is surrounded, a couple approaches Max, eyes flickering between him, Charles, and your daughter. “You three make such a cute family! How long have you and your husband been together?”

Max chokes on his spit. “Oh, no, we’re not — I mean, he’s not — we’re her brothers, not fathers. And we’re definitely not together.”

The woman’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “Oh! I’m so sorry. My mistake.”

Charles, now free from the throng of kids, joins in, “It’s alright. Happens a lot more than you would think.” He winks at your daughter, “This princess has a way of wrapping everyone around her finger so I can see the confusion.”

Max and Charles immerse themselves in the Disneyland experience, fully embracing their roles as makeshift royalty. They take pictures, go on rides, and even join your daughter for a tea party at Cinderella’s Royal Table.

While leaving, a staff member waves, “Goodbye, Prince Charming!”

Charles raises an eyebrow, “Which one?”

Max smirks, “Clearly, they meant me.”

Your daughter grins cheekily. “Both Princes. My Princes.”

Mick and Lance: Horsing Around

“Why is she covered in hay?” Lance looks down at your giggling daughter who has a spot of dirt on her nose and straw in her hair.

Mick picks her up, attempting to brush it off without much success. “Because someone wanted to roll around with the bunnies.”

She claps her hands together. “Bunny soft! And pony! I want pony!”

A farmer passing by overhears their conversation, a knowing smile on his face. “That's how it starts, you know?” He nods towards Mick and Lance, “My daughter wanted just one pony and now look around you — turned into this whole farm.” He chuckles, looking at your daughter with fondness, “Seems history is repeating with your little one. She’s clearly got her daddies wrapped around her finger already.”

Mick chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “Oh, we’re not her dads. We’re her brothers. Just trying to spoil her a bit while we can.”

The farmer looks slightly surprised but grins, “Ah, my bad! You looked so domestic and I assumed. But a word of advice from someone who’s been through it … those little eyes? They’ll have a whole farm following you home if you’re not careful."

Lance nods in agreement, “She gets her charm from our mom.”

Your daughter, however, is undeterred. “Pony! Please, please, pony!”

Lance tries to be stern, “I don’t think Mom and Dad will let us get a pony.”

But her big eyes and pout should be illegal.

They cave instantly. “Okay, okay! We’ll see what we can do,” Mick promises.

As they head home, Mick turns to Lance, “You realize we can’t actually get her a pony, right?”

But Lance just smirks. “Watch me.”

***

Later that evening, you’re sipping tea when a rather unexpected sound catches your attention.

Neighhh.

You rush to the window, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

Lance meets your eyes sheepishly, “So ... we might’ve made a tiny impulsive decision ...”

Mick is holding a bedazzled harness belonging to the animal in question, “Tiny? It’s not exactly a chihuahua.”

Your daughter rushes to you, grinning from ear to ear. “Look, Mommy! Pony!”

You sigh deeply, “I leave you two in charge for a few hours and apparently we now own a pony?”

Mick shrugs, “It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

Lance adds, “We just couldn’t say no to her!”

You laugh, pulling them both into a hug with your daughter sandwiched between. “You boys are impossible. When did you become such softies?”

“Just following in your footsteps,” Mick smirks. “You know, spoiling the ones we love."

Lance nods, “Guess it runs in the family.”

Lando and George: Busy Bees

“Is she ready?” Lando asks while leaning over to check his face paint in the mirror.

George adjusts his fake antennae headband. “I still can’t believe you convinced me to wear this.”

Your daughter runs in from behind them, flapping her tiny bee wings with a big smile on her face. “Bzzz! Bzzz!”

Lando laughs, “Look at you, the cutest little bee in the hive!”

He then whispers to George, “At least we match.”

George groans, “Yeah but did we really have to be flowers? It’s bad enough that she’s got me trick-or-treating for the first time in twenty years.”

As they set out, the trio attracts many admiring glances, especially when your daughter toddles up to houses, holding out her little bucket and adorably attempting a “Trick or treat!”

At one house, an older lady opens the door, gasping with delight. “Oh my! What a beautiful little family! You and your husband have done such a wonderful job. Your daughter’s costume is simply adorable!”

George’s cheeks flush under his floral face paint, “Oh, uh, we’re not a couple. We’re her brothers!”

Lando waves his hands, “Yeah! No couple here, just brothers. He’s too annoying to date anyway.”

The lady looks slightly taken aback but quickly recovers. “Oh, my apologies! It’s just so rare to see two young dads out and about. Anyways, here you go, little bumblebee.” She drops a handful of candy into your daughter’s bucket.

The night continues with more misidentifications, George and Lando taking it in stride but also bickering about who gives off more of a dad vibe.

George pokes Lando, “I told you, dressing as matching flowers makes it look like we’re together.”

Lando rolls his eyes, “You’re just embarrassed because Mrs. Thompson from three houses down thought we were a couple.”

George grins, “Well, maybe if someone didn’t m insist on holding my hand to guide me ...”

Lando splutters, “That was to stop you from tripping over a pumpkin in the dark! Besides, look, she’s having the time of her life.”

Your daughter just continues her “bzzing,” happily collecting candies and compliments.

When they return home, a mountain of treats in tow, your daughter shows off her loot with pride.

Sebastian greets them at the door, laughing as he sees their costumes. “Looking good there!”

George mumbles, “At least we’re on brand.”

Lando grins, “Exactly! Team Bee for the win!”

Your daughter, energy not even slightly dimmed, runs up and hugs Sebastian, “Daddy! Bzzz!”

Sebastian chuckles, “My little bee. Did you have fun with your brothers?”

She nods vigorously, “Bzzz!”

You shake your head in amusement. “Alright, my buzzing bee, time for bed. And you two,” you point at George and Lando, “thanks for being such good sports. Even if you did look ridiculous.”

George and Lando are already on their way to raid your vanity for makeup wipes. “Anything for our little bee,” Lando says with a wink.

The Parents and the “Parents”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, “So, Y/N, Seb ... you won’t believe how many times Max and I have been mistaken for a couple when we’re out and about.”

“Yeah,” Max chimes in, “apparently we give off strong young dads in love vibes.”

Lance sighs dramatically, “Don’t even get me started! Mick and I took her to the park a few days ago and this lady actually asked how long we’ve been married and when we adopted her.”

Mick nods, “She even recommended a couples’ yoga class for us. Said it helped her and her wife reconnect for personal time during parenthood.”

Lando, trying to stifle a giggle, pipes up, “George and I were given a book called The Ultimate Guide for Gay Dads by our new neighbor. She said it really helped her son and his husband.”

George gestures wildly, “We even got invited to the local dads’ weekly barbecue. I think we’re honorary members now.”

You burst out laughing, “Oh my god, I can’t breathe! This is priceless.”

Sebastian chuckles, “I think it’s sweet that our daughter has so many loving dads. We’re setting a new norm here.”

Max grins, “I always knew I had a paternal side.”

Charles nudges him, “More like you just can’t bring yourself to say no to her.”

Lance admits, “That’s true. Is this a good time to apologize for the pony in your backyard again?”

Everyone turns to look at Mick, who shrugs, “She has the best puppy eyes, okay?”

“It’s a gift really,” George agrees. “I tried to do the same face to Lando to get the last slice of pizza but all he did was laugh at me.”

Lando retorts, “That’s because your puppy eyes looked more like you were constipated.”

Suddenly, the laughter is interrupted by a small voice. Your daughter toddles into the room, holding a toy race car in one hand and a doll in the other. “Why do you all have funny faces?” She asks, her innocent eyes widening.

Sebastian picks her up and sits her on his knee, “Well, little racer, we were just talking about how sometimes people think that your brothers are your dads.”

She scrunches her face in confusion, “But that’s silly! They’re still your babies too. How can they be dads?”

You laugh, “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. They definitely still act like children sometimes.”

The six indignant whines of “we do not” you get in return don’t really do much to help their case.

But you love your kids anyway. All seven of them.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Faeries and Giants

A/N: Thanks that one anon for this idea! took my own spin on it >:DD

Content Warning: Held hostage by a giant, mentioned consumption of humanoid creatures, kidnapping

Synopsis: Life isn’t all great being a faerie in a world of giants, elves and dwarves-- of which, some are keen on plucking you from the forest floor like a berry and keeping you to themselves. 

“So… delicate,” plump fingers outlined the crisp glass of your wings, their luminescence almost blinding to the giant. Your teensy, human-like frailty was some sort of evolutionary mistake-- how could you survive in these woods for so many decades, for centuries? You and your kind were mini parasites-- although delicious, and cute to play with, ultimately not meant to survive in this world where big bad wolves and giants ten times your size could pick you up like an acorn and snap you like a tall blade of grass. 

“Get your dirty paws-- OFF!” You kicked and bit with feral haste, clothes of leaf and twine breaking each time the giant poked and prodded at your pudgy, elongated features. One wrong tug and your arm or leg could come twisting off, your wings tarnished and ripped to fragments if he so pleased. 

“Settle down now, little one,” He let out a roar of a laugh, shaking down through his palms to his feet, making the earth beneath him crumble. “You’ll get hurt worming around so much!”

You shrieked at the gentle touch against your bare sole, the giant playing with your toes and fingers as he stretches and bends your limbs. 

“Please--urk, put me down! I’m not meant to be this high, I, I need to get back to the ground-- let me go!” 

“Ah, but aren’t you meant for the skies, little beast? What else are these… appendages for. Mere sparkly decoration?”

He runs a finger down the middle of your back, touching the sinewy fiber connecting translucent wings to your spine. You shivered, physically jolting at the uncomfortable, warmly touch. 

Your wings were drenched-- wrinkled and sopping from the “quick dip” the giant holding you thought would be a good idea before scooping you up like a pretty pebble. His previous…encounters with your kind must’ve prepared him well for the fluttery agility your poor wings could provide.

“Hm, do you like that?” The giant groans in heightened interest, resting his cheek in his hand as he holds you in the other. “The fairies I’ve met are far less dainty, withholding far more… animosity. Of course, they had been well-versed in magic and spells moreso than you seem to be. Far more appetizing, too. But you… you almost look like a stout sapling, useless in all endeavors besides your adorable little figure!”

….Appetizing? 

Looking to the Giant’s pocket, you can see them there….Wings, some crumped to shards, others merely bent, stuffed in his trousers with shimmering pinks and golds and blues-- cleanly picked off of whatever faerie they belonged to.

“You… they’ve been disappearing, because of you! Collecting their poor wings…You’re a monster! My friends, eaten and killed--!”

The giant brought you to his eyes for closer inspection, pools of lake green beneath his moppy silvering and unkempt hair. He observed the river of tears falling from your face, your nose dripping and stuffy as you beat against his hand. 

“Why yes! We seem to agree on something; I am a monster of the forest-- as are you, and your thieving little fellow faeries. Stealing from my livestock, shoveling everything they can find into their mouths, attempting to poison and spitroast and maim me--” He brushes a tan knuckle against your cheek, smooshing it in an attempt to wipe away your tears. “And so I eat them-- which ever ones manage to cross me, choosing to arise my wrath. It’s the circle of life, my little winged beast.” 

He chuckles at the nickname, gazing at you slumped over on the creases of his palm, calloused from a life of barreling trees and tending to his oversized farm on the outskirts of your fae hamlet.

 You were too high to jump from his palm at this height, even with his fingers no longer tightly wound around you. If you tried to fly now-- you’d be as good as dead. 

“S..so, what’re you gonna do, with me?”

You wipe away your tears, trying to see the giant clearly this time; maybe you could pinpoint a weak area of his, something to make him drop you-- it’d be better than spending eternity in his palm, or his stomach. 

“So precious… What do you think? Should I eat you?” He grins, a large straw of wheat hanging from betwixt his lips. 

You shake your head rapidly, attempting to reach for the dagger in your leather boot. 

“No, no. Of course not, I can’t rid myself of such a cute fae like you, even if I despise the rest of your species--” He delicately takes his thumb and pointer finger to your cheeks, squeezing them to puff out your lips. “I enjoy your itsy-bitsy presence too much… perhaps I’ll keep you where the birds used to lay; the cage is quite spacious, right in the kitchen. I’ll make a soft bed of chicken feathers for you, a table just big enough to do your faerie crafts and harmless little spells on.” The giant smiles softly, touching the bare of your collar uncovered by leaf and leather cloth. “I’ll bring trinkets from the valley for you to do with as you please, cook hearty meals for us to share, even let you out to be coddled and touched every now and again-- how does that sound?” 

You were quick to shake your head, tempted to stab at his palm with your dagger, but an irked expression ran across the giant’s lips as his gaze fell to the grassy plain beneath him. 

“Your friend here however, will not be staying.” He holds you tightly again-- squeezing enough to keep you in the dark of his palm. It was warm and of an earthy smell, almost too tight for your cold body. You're abruptly tucked into the giants shirt pocket, a finger over your mouth and eyes that forced you into muted darkness.

Even with your fabricated blindness, you could here the breathy grunts of a familiar voice-- unmistakably from a woodland elf, the glass-shattering vocal chords of a creature who could burst ear drums if he so desired. You didn’t know for sure, but you had a reasonable guess of which elf in particular who seemed to be fighting a mountain of a giant in your honor. An unforgettable, certainly imbecilic ignoramus elf who tailed you everywhere you went in hopes that, this time you would accept his smitten betrothal request. 

You swam against fabric tugging you downward to reach the shirt pocket’s opening, wincing as the giant holding you captive yelped out.

“Gah! he stabbed me, the little fucking imp!”

It's the first you've heard him curse with such venom, mouth curling into a snarl as he bends to pick up the wooden sword-swinging elf at his boot. 

The elf screamed out your name, trying to cut at the scarred fingers holding him hostage. You reached out to him from beneath your pocket enclosure before the giant flicked you on the head, holding your savior far out by the tips of his fingers. 

“Ah look here, your knight in shining armor… hah, too bad, he looks absolutely delectable.”

The giant’s irritation was growing by the second, keeping a hand over you in his pocket as he shakes the elf around furiously.

“No--! please don't eat him, he just-- Let us go, he has nothing to do with this!” You tug against the giant’s button up, watching your elf companion swing around his needle-like sword at the  giant holding him up by his collar. 

The giant laughed, eyes crinkling as his chiseled chest bumped against your back.

“Don't fret sweet faerie, I’m not so brutal as to consume a creature like this raw; by all means, he’s coming home with us. How long he lasts- that's up to you.”

The giant stood from his crouched position on the grassy knoll, heavy boots digging into the grass to make muddy imprints. He dangled the elf out forward, watching as the poor creature sweat bullets while looking at you helplessly.

“Let my faerie-- go!” The tiny voice felt so far away, different than the usually grating elf’s voice you were accustomed to getting frightened by.

The giant places his fingers into his shirt pocket, nudging you with them in a powerful caress. 

“You'll remain my little darling-- while our elf friend here, remains where he belongs-- in the pigpen. Together, we can find a punishment suitable for him.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. With one heavy foot in front of the other, the giant started toward a thatched roof cabin in the grassy distance. 

[yanderestarangel]

tio miguel o'hara au

art cr: @/Andalusia_lu-

TW: EXTREMELY DARK CONTENT, STEP INCEST, OC MIGUEL, MANIPULATION, VIOLENCE, ALCOHOL, DARK THEMES, TRAUMA, GRIEF, BROKEN MIND, DUB CON, NON CON, POWER PLAY, HARASSMENT, GN READER, THREAT, PAIN KINK, DOLLFICATION, NSFW, BREEDKINK.

˖⁺ ⊹୨ notes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ no negativity please. If this isn’t your sort of content you’re more than welcome to block me and move on with your day.

I just wanted to make a definitive AU for my version of "Tio" Miguel O'Hara ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

[PART.1.]

♡ ┆Tio Miguel is your non-blood uncle who is thirty-five years old, his skin tanned by the hot midday sun accentuates his body and he has greater muscle mass than most men of his age; brown hair usually combed back and dark brown eyes that seem to penetrate your soul.

♡ ┆ He arrived like a hurricane in your life and that of your family, right after you moved to another quieter place in the Mexican city, practically a rural place where Miguel lived just a few meters away on a large farm, isolated from curious eyes.

♡ ┆ You had a grandmother who already lived there and she introduced the previously unknown man to you, saying that he was Miguel O'Hara, a close neighbor who always came to visit and was always nice to her, practically a son for the older lady. The tall Mexican man helped your family unload the moving truck, he was the first to approach like a silent plague and the target was always you, since the first time he saw you he had felt something more like his life had meaning again.

♡ ┆ Soon he began to frequent your house, being a friendly and solitary gentleman keeping everything from his past between his teeth despite the entire reception of his family with his persona. You, on the other hand, saw how he always seemed to look for you regardless of the situation you were in, even asking you to call him "Uncle" and that was when it all really started for both of you, the demand to be called that was subtle but already functional that even your parents told/demanded that you respect the man as someone in the family and in a short time he was already an influential and feared member of your family.

♡ ┆He is almost always seen dressed in ranch clothes or dress shirts and jeans - punctuated with cowboy or work boots, most of the time they are expensive fabrics that are not compatible with the minimum wage he receives for his work as a caregiver of farms or livestock. He is occasionally seen wearing a shabby brown suede cowboy hat.

♡ ┆When you ask him about his profession he just smiles and uses the same excuse that he got extra money from some competitions he won at the local bullfight ─ and the mysterious gain is not only used for his own use but also to buy gifts for you, he is not afraid to manipulate or seduce you with monetary gains to capture your attention and keep it, if you want something he will give it to you without thinking twice just to keep you for him, whether for his money or by making you afraid. Miguel secretly ran the underworld of drugs and smuggling but he would never tell you that and he would rather die than for you to discover his source of money in reality.

♡ ┆He always uses affectionate and possessive nicknames with you, like 'Mi vida' 'Mi angelito' 'Mi carinõ'; practically like a passionate lover would do or even he would grab you and hug you, touching you in different places and leaving a trail of heat wherever his fingers passed, even though he was your uncle he would treat you like a possessive companion would.

♡ ┆He drinks a lot, his favorite drink is expensive and pure whiskey. He also becomes almost predatory when he's drunk, often coming into your room on celebratory nights and whispering dark promises to you ─ you've seen him kneeling at the side of your bed as the warm alcoholic breath comes from his thick lips, phrases like: "You will always belong to me", "anyone who dares to come close to you I will kill them.", "I will never let you slip out of my hands, my precious angel." Or even the secret desires to use your body escaped his lips on those rare nights when the drink overcame his stoic and cold demeanor.

♡ ┆Most of his cold behavior is the result of the fact that he never had children and also due to the death of his late wife, killed by a fateful fate that he refused to talk about. He tends to be extremely rude to everyone but he tries to be as gentle as possible with you, even though it can be scary at times. He is domineering, impatient and quick-tempered, looking for your company during family outings or parties. Miguel will manipulate you by saying that his behavior is normal, saying that you were his family and he was just trying to make your bond grow and he will also manipulate your family to sweep away any complaints you may make. from the carpet or say that you were being dramatic and if you try to return his advances he can be extremely rude and easily hold your body, whispering subtle threats like: "You don't want to see me angry, do you, angel?" While leaving your wrists marked red from the force he had put there.

♡ ┆He doesn't let you have boyfriends or girlfriends, if you dare to have a partner he will do everything to make your parents stop this relationship. Even if you are an adult he will do everything in his power to make your life hell if you dare to leave him for a random person. Most of your relationships ended mysteriously because your dear tio used his influence in the underworld to threaten your partner. It will also alienate you from friends or acquaintances, a useful way to maintain control over yourself.

♡ ┆He always invites you to his farm on the weekends, always with the promise of some expensive gift or comfort from all the weekly stress. If you accepted (through free and spontaneous pressure from him) he would spoil you and always spend exorbitant amounts of money on you. If you have problems with your family, he will convince you to leave your home and talk to your parents to let you stay with him in his house for an indefinite period of time. Your Tio I planned to make you his perfect future companion, submissive and untouched by the evils of the world, a husband/wife so he could have a real family again, even if he was your uncle.

♡ ┆He tries to make you sleep with him several times, be it with monetary gains, manipulation or breaking you to the point that you throw yourself into his arms because he thinks you won't get anyone to love you like he does. During sex he plays the role of a tough dominant, often treating you roughly and likes to use your body to vent his frustrations. Miguel will choke and bite you, marking your neck and shoulders with painful, red bites, - even hitting you if you try to struggle or struggle against him, whether it's slaps to the face or butt making you whimper and become more still and controlled in his control. He uses his greater physical experience and constitution to hold you back if you try to run. Your Uncle likes to fantasize about getting you pregnant and making you a perfect little doll for him, he fills all your holes with his semen. He can spit in your mouth, hit his dick on your face, giving you hickeys on your neck, strong bites, or cumming on your face and recording everything afterwards to threaten you if you don't want to accept his marriage proposal later.