Won't Get Away
DDDNE ‼️MDNI ‼️DDDNE‼️ MDNI ‼️DDDNE
Contains: DARK SMUT!, smut, vaginal tearing, choking, lots of past descriptions, dark!joel miller, captor!joel miller, old!joel miller, use of the name ‘Daddy’, faux Uncle!tommy miller, dark!tommy miller, Daddy kink, early 20s/late 60s relationship, dumbified reader, extremely dark themes such as, captor x captive relationship, corruption, manipulation, abuse, physical abuse, psychological abuse, mental abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, reader uses the past to cope with the present, mentions of unconscious body, MENTIONS OF BLOOD!, DACRYPHYLIA JOEL THINKS OF YOUR UNCONSCIOUS BODY FROM PART 1 DURING SEX)!
Pairing: dark!joel miller x reader, dark!tommy miller x reader
WC: 5.2k
Part One
AN: this is probably bad, my part twos to stories usually are (ahem SKOL. we dont speak of that.) and bruhs i was going to post this monday but had writer's block like BAD. then i was working on it all day yesterday but it got too late to post it so here it is now! this is like extremely dark so im sorry (maybe)! sorry if there are any grammar mistakes. my brain is mush. I toned down the dumbified thing a little. lemme go smudge now and cleanse my writing with some sweet Joel okay? bye, now.
I DO NOT CONDONE, PROMOTE, OR ENCOURAGE THE CONTENTS OF THIS FICTION WRITING!
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION! YOU CHOSE TO CONSUME THIS MEDIA! IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENTS OF THIS FICTION WRITING, DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT!
“Are you sure he’s asleep, Uncle Tommy?” You whispered into the dark, the only dull, golden light from the gas lantern on the bedside table spilling over the bed.
“M’sure of it, Sugar. Think he’s conked out from that cherry pie I brought over,” he said as he closed the bedroom door behind him, turning slightly to tuck the pill bottle into the crevice of his coat pocket so you couldn’t see.
You giggled, pulling the comforter up to your chin as you looked up at him with excited, glistening eyes when he grew closer to the bed.
“Now why’re ya hidin’ from me, hm?” He charmingly smiled, stopping beside the bed.
It was the third time your Uncle made love to you, though you were still shy. The way he caressed every inch of your body or gave you slow, passionate, special kisses on your needy cunt when he had enough time, made you feel like everything and a recluse at once.
It was nothing you've felt before. Not even with Joel.
The rare moments your Uncle Tommy got rough with you, he immediately apologized afterward, telling you that he got caught up in how beautiful and soft you were, how could a man not love on you that hard when he had you all to himself. His big brother, for example, had you all to himself but took things extra slow with you, which was strange, considering how quickly he shared his pieces of body wisdom with the other girls.
Hell, Tommy had been all over one of the girls. Why was Joel so adamant about keeping your pussy unused and untouched for so long? He’d been lenient with Tommy, letting him into their room with them for a while whenever he wanted, each time he visited, releasing some of that pent-up stress into them.
With you, Tommy couldn’t have so much as looked your way without Joel believing his baby brother was trying to take you away from him.
That's why slipping a triple dose of sleeping pills into Joel’s whiskey was needed. Well needed.
“Is it gonna be like last time?” You had grinned up at him with hopeful eyes.
“Won’t have time for special kisses, babydoll. Gotta get back to Jackson tonight,” he gently tugged the comforter from your grasp, your eyes following as he slowly pulled it down your body. “But I’ll take care of ya, don’t worry. Now let’s see what we’re workin’ with.”
The blanket reached the cusp of your breasts, young, perky, and untouched. “Ohhh… would ya look at that. Pretty little things.”
“Do you like ‘em, Uncle?”
“Mhm… I sure do, Sugar,” he slipped his hand over your ribs and took your breast in his hand, caressing it with his thumb. “Sure do.”
He fought every urge, every chill in his body, not to take you right then and there. Your question in that whiny, little voice of yours overloaded every bit of his senses and his pulsing, leaking cock that was suddenly sensitive from the rough fabric of his boxers and denim as it pushed against them.
Honestly, he was dumbfounded by how Joel hadn't been in your pussy yet.
“Can you get on top of me again?”
“Don't you worry, Darlin’.” His hand faltered on your breast when he slid the blanket further down your body, your cunt coming into view, slick, and oh so achingly warm.
“Shit… look at ‘er. She’s beautiful.,” he traced your slit with his thumb. “Real beautiful.”
He felt how wet you were and gathered your slick on his thumb, then brought it to his mouth and sucked it off, humming afterward, “Real sweet too. Bet you’ve been achin’, huh?”
“Mhm,” you let out a small whine as you eagerly nodded up at him. “I tell Daddy, but he always says he'll fix it someday, but never does.”
“Yeah… I know. But, your Daddy’s gettin’ old. He probably has a hard time with that stuff now, baby.”
He knew that was a poor excuse for his brother. Joel would’ve corrupted you and taken what was yours to keep as soon as he felt that special little urge. There was something else the matter for why he hadn’t gotten that far with you yet. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“What do you mean?”
His eyes roamed your face as he internally debated whether to talk to you about it or not, seriously wondering how the hell you ended up with such a dumb little brain. You had family and a friend back at your farmhouse early on in this mess of a world. Surely you and she giggled about boys. “Nothin’, it don't matter. What matters now is makin’ you feel good, ain't that right?”
You eagerly nodded, briefly stopping with an impish glint in your eyes. “But, you're old too, Uncle Tommy!”
“Oh, am I now?” He charmingly smiled, his dark eyes glistening in the warm light of the lantern.
You beamed up at him, guilty.
“Alright, then, am I when I do this?” He nuzzled his face into your neck, attacking your skin with kisses and quiet monster noises, making you stifle a laugh.”Or this?” He dove back in to attack your throat, fewer noises and more open-mouthed kisses. He trailed his lips along underneath your chin and finally came back up, his curls tickling your face. “Hm? Am I, baby?”
“Okay, you’re not.”
“Mhm, s’what I thought. Alright, ” he planted a quick kiss on your cheek before rising, unbuckling his belt, and unzipping his jeans, pulling his slim but long, hardened cock from its constraints. “Jus’ like any other time. Deep breath in an’ I’ll be in quick like a bunny. Won’t feel a thing, Sugar.”
“Okay,” you muttered and prepared yourself, doing exactly what he told you as he rested his hand on your thigh and gripped his dick with the other, gliding it through your slick before swiftly pushing in, creating a sick gush.
If he wasn’t so turned on by it, that deep ache in his chest would’ve surfaced with pity for you, with how neglected you were. How starving you were.
“There ya go,” he warmly said and leaned over your body, planting his forearms beside your head and lying his body weight atop you, just as you like. “Y’all right, baby?”
You answered with a small nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his thick waist, burying your head into his neck.
With your confirmation, his hips began to move in a slow rhythm, allowing you to get comfortable with the feeling of his cock nudging that special little spot in the hollows of your cunt. He built his thrusts up to steady ones as he littered your neck with kisses, giving you the love you craved.
Back then, Maria ran through your head during those intimate, safe moments with your Uncle Tommy. But you would remind yourself of his words, which he spoke when he took what was supposed to be for Joel to take.
You were so worried, guilt settled deep in the pit of your stomach. So you asked him about Maria being his wife and told him it didn't feel right that night he fully corrupted you. He soothed you and said to you that they might be married, but there was nothing left between them—no love, only two friends bound together by a child.
He reassured you that Maria knew he had relations with another, and that she was okay with it. He told you what you both had was something sacred, just on a shaky foundation, one that could collapse with a single peep to anyone.
But when Maria came out to the cabin with your Uncle one day, he didn’t spare you a single glance as far as you could tell. You sat off to the side with your arms crossed while the grown‑ups chatted over coffee, glaring daggers into the side of his face as his arm rested casually over Maria’s shoulders.
You didn't understand. You thought he said that they weren't together. You thought that when he’d moved her hair away from her eyes or casually kissed her on their way out that day.
He made it up to you that weekend when he came back to help Joel upholster the tool shed, telling you he and Maria had eaten strange apples that day that made them act a little wonky. You believed him.
You felt his cock until it wasn’t his, it was your Daddy’s, bringing you back to reality, as it nudged your hole.
“Wait!” You squeal and scoot toward the headboard of Joel’s bed.
“Darlin’, baby,” he sighs through his nose and drops his hands from your thigh and his heavy, throbbing cock. “Can’t keep doin’ this. S’gettin’ late an’ I’m gettin’ tired. Past your bedtime, too.”
He was this close to notching his thick mushroom head into you for the fourth time. This had been going on for the last ten minutes or so, over and over, and he was almost at his wits’ end with you.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. It’s just…” You sheepishly look down at your hands, which rest on your now-closed legs, and begin fiddling with your fingers.
“S’jus’ what, Bug?” He gathers your hands in his big, scarred ones.
“Promise you won’t get mad?” You look up at him with wide orbs and furrowed eyebrows.
His eyes slowly, intently drag over you, studying you as he runs his thumbs along your palms. “Y’dont trust me?”
“No, I do! I do, Daddy,” you let out a shameful breath before continuing, dropping your eyes. “It’s… about Uncle Tommy.”
“Mm, thinkin’ about ‘im? That what this is? You want him instead’a me? Thought we went over this earlier, Bug.”
“No,” you quickly blurt. “His… His thing was smaller. Yours is scary. Big.”
If your need to learn wasn't apparent, he'd take you right now, shove his cock into your tight, needy hole. What an ego-boost your words gave him. However, this was the final lesson; it wasn't a time to demonstrate how other mommies and daddies make love.
You behaved today, just as he told you to last night. You woke up, dressed without a fuss, did your chores, and even helped him make supper.
You were getting the hang of everything, and he was proud of you. So you finally deserved to have the final lesson, even though your Uncle Tommy had already corrupted you. Joel was supposed to be the one. But your earlier words made him feel reasonably forgiving when you apologized for the hundredth time since early this year.
You told him you took his words to heart about daddies needing to be their girls’ first and to give them what they were made to bear. That made him more willing, knowing that you wanted him to satisfy your cravings, and you understood how hurt he was. Above all, he was happy that you understood just how important that first slow pump into your unused, needy cunt was supposed to be from him, and you and your Uncle took that away from him.
“Well, Bug, I don't know what to tell ya. S’just how m’built,” he says with all seriousness. “But… what if we warm ya up to it? S’been a while since you've touched ‘im, ain't it?”
“Mhm,” you hastily nod in relief. “That would make me feel better.”
“Alright, take ‘im, baby. Do what ya need to do.” He drops his hands from yours and relaxes, allowing you to scoot forward and take his reddened, oozing cock into your hands.
He proudly looks down at you as you play around with him for a moment, doing everything exactly as he’s taught you. To play with that little bulging vein that runs beneath his skin on the underside of his long girth as you fondle his balls. To slicken his tip with your saliva and run your thumb along it.
All the while, he was fighting the urge to slam your mouth down on him until you choked, begging him to stop as you wept while he deeply fucked your throat, saliva frothing from the corners of your mouth. Fuck, he could picture it so well.
“It’s really hot, Daddy,” you look up at him with worry. “Is it okay?”
“S’alright, Bug. Just that stuff workin’.” He takes your jaw in his hand and glides his thumb over your lips. “You feelin’ better now? Or need a little while longer?”
“Just a little more, please.” You stroke him with both hands and envelop his tip with your lips, causing him to groan and trail his fingers to your hair and rake his thick fingers through it, tugging at it as he battles with his own mind to seriously not give in to his imagination.
Just a small push here and there, and a few tugs on your hair to help him perfectly picture the scene in his head.
You remove your mouth and look up at him with furrowed eyebrows, though his head was thrown back, caught up in the image bouncing around in his head. “You’re hurting me.”
“Hm?” He looks down at you and removes his fingers from your hair, placing them on your cheek, and caresses your soft skin. “Shit, I’m sorry, Bug. Your old man got caught up. How about we get started, yeah? You ready?”
“Mhm.” You nod and grin.
“Alright, let's get ya settled.”
You let your hands fall from his cock as you scoot back again, and it lightly springs back from its weight, hitting his soft lower belly. You settle back onto the pillows and open your legs for him, displaying your slick cunt for him once more.
“Darlin’… Jesus.” He absentmindedly kneads your inner thighs, taking in the sight of it.
You play with your breasts just as he taught you, fondling and teasing, while he slides his hands across your hips and back down to your pussy, where he tends to it with his thumb, running it through your folds.
“This all for me?”
“Yes, all for you, Daddy,” you whimper.
“That's right.” He grips his dick near the tip and replaces his thumb with it, sliding it through your wetness, making a wet, sticky noise. He keeps this up, back and forth, as his thumb now works your clit, making you fuss and wriggle your hips.
“Daddy, I want ‘im now! Please!”
“Just tryin’ t’get ‘im ready, baby.”
No, he was completely enamored with how just your folds enveloped the tip of his cock, like no other he's been in. All until he remembers how his little brother had been in this same tight pussy. With how you demanded, he knew Tommy had probably given it to you without a second thought, wanting you for your warm, once-unused walls. And that enraged him, knowing Tommy’s coercion with girls from back in the day too well. The way he must’ve made you feel like the only girl in the world, whispering sweet nothings into your innocent ears. The way he probably asked you what your Daddy taught you, so that he could top that, one-up his older brother, make you want more, which you did, as you would whisper in his ear around Joel about story time, bedtime stories.
Damnit, he should’ve known it then.
“Fuck!” He mutters through clenched teeth, digging his fingers into your hip.
“What is it?”
“Shh… shh. S’nothin’, baby. It’s… it’s jus’ me.” He quickly gathered his bearings, loosening his fingertips from you ever so slightly. ‘Alright…” He pulls you closer to his hips and lines the tip of his dick to your entrance. “C’mon. You ready?”
“Mhm.” You nod and grip his wrists as you look down to where you meet.
“Alright, Bug, on the count of three, I need you to take a deep breath in.” It sickened him to use his brother’s techniques, which he had you tell him for his safekeeping on an unpleasant night. You had cried for your Uncle after Joel had nursed your pussy with his mouth, who would inevitably never set foot on Joel’s property again.
You let out a faint, timid whine as his tip notches into your hole.
“One. Two. Three.”
You do as he said and take a deep breath in as he swiftly slides into you, bottoming out with a deep groan. Even if you were able to, you still couldn't exhale. The stretch of his cock took every bit of your breath away, making you let out a broken sound through your wide-open mouth as you met his eyes with panicky, watery ones.
It felt like something popped, ripping in half.
“Daddy!” You finally exhale gasp-like and dig your fingernails into his wrists.
“I know,” he keeps one hand placed on your inner thigh to keep you open and rests his other on the back of your head, laying his body weight on top of you and pressing your face into his warm t-shirt-clad chest. He rests his head beside yours, and his lips brush your ear. “I know, Bug. Just breathe, baby.”
“It hurts!” You try to wriggle your hips away from him in an attempt to scoot away from him once more, except this time, he wasn’t letting you. He’s gotten this far with you; he wasn’t going to do it all again.
He tightens his grip on your leg and head, grabbing at your hair to keep you pinned in place. “I know, it’ll go away once I start moving.” He hated what he was about to say, what he was about to acknowledge, but he did it anyway for the sake of comforting you with your Uncle so he could finally get his dick wet. “You did well for Uncle Tommy, hm?”
“Mhm!”
“Well, you can do good for me, can’t ya?” He softly but sternly mutters into your ear. “You took him, you can take me. Just a little bigger, is all.”
“Okay.” You mutter as tears escape the corners of your timid eyes.
He slowly pulls his hips away from you until the tip, then gradually delves back in, creating a squelching sound and making you let out another short cry.
He wishes he could’ve done this sooner, opening you up and molding you to him with each tiny ridge of his cock. He felt good knowing that Tommy didn’t get far with you. That he didn’t stretch you this far. He felt good knowing he still had something to take credit for, to claim.
“That’s right, doin’ so good for me, see. Fuck, Darlin’.” He groans into your neck, totally trying his damnedest not to speed this up. Your cunt was practically sucking him back in, like it was asking for more, even if you didn’t. “Let’s take a look at ‘er, see how she’s doin’.”
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t done this sooner; afraid of not being able to stop or to control himself.
Old habits. Habits he didn’t want resurfacing with you.
He rises and slowly pulls out of you, letting go of your head and keeping his hand pressed into your inner thigh as he grabs ahold of the other, keeping you open. His eyes roam your face, soaking in your wrecked expression, then trail down your body with his motions, eventually landing on your cunt, gaping, and leaking… red. He audibly exhales a gasping breath, his eyes growing fuzzy and his head buzzing as he takes in the sight of his dick that was slick and shaded with crimson.
Red and black spots form in his dark orbs, blinding him as he’s brought back to the day he saw your lifeless body lying in a pool of your own blood. You were so fragile, so frail as your body lay limp, curled up in the position you fell in.
And you're fragile now, bleeding for him, from him.
“What?” You shriek, rising until you’re met with his hand roughly shoving you back down by your chest, knocking every bit of air out of your lungs. It was as if he was brought back to reality.
“Uh-uh. You get your ass back down,” he spits, pointing his thick finger at you, until it falters and his hand drops down onto your stomach. “I mean… shit, baby. I’m sorry, Darlin’.”
Fear was written all over your face. From the pain surfacing since he was no longer moving. From the loss of air. But most of all, Joel.
You’ve taken his spankings, his roughness. You’ve taken his discipline. But you’ve never taken them during moments that were supposed to be safe. Intimate.
Uncle Tommy would never.
But Joel wasn't going to let you see, for it would ruin it all, make you run. Ruin this sickly pleasing sight before him.
“Don’t you look like that on me, Bug. I said I was sorry.” His hands move to your outer thighs, lifting your legs over his broad thighs, then retreat to your stomach to soothingly rub you. “How ‘bout we keep goin’.”
“Mhm.” You hesitantly give a small nod.
“Did that ‘cause she’s beautiful, Bug. Real beautiful.”
You’ve heard those words before, and it puts a smile on your face to hear them once more, even if it wasn't the man who first spoke them to you.
“There ya go, just settle.” He slowly pushes his cock into your hollows again, balls deep, before he continues his steady pace. Luckily, there was no fuss.
Because you were so good for him. The others ran once he broke them. But you? You're staying, allowing him to finally bless you with what your body was made to bear.
Or maybe he tore you to the point you didn't feel him, numb to him. Adrenaline still coursing through your veins.
This is all Joel really ever wanted: to care for another and watch them grow his seed. To have a family again. One that he could control this time. The others could've had it, but they were too selfish with their own vision of life to see his.
"I'm givin’ you somethin’ special, Bug. Somethin’ you've been waitin’… n’achin’ for. You're gonna look so beautiful, ain’t you?” With each thrust, his hand slowly travels up your abdomen, inching its way up. Carefully.
“Mhm.” You try to grin up at him as you wrap your hands around his thick forearms, trying to brace yourself somehow since he isn't protecting your body anymore.
He seriously tried not to look down at your puffy and leaking cunt as it made a sticky noise around him. But the sound was atrocious, filling his bedroom along with your whimpers.
So he had to fill it with something else. “What d’ya want me to give ya, baby? A boy or a little girl?”
“Um…” you try to speak through your whines, breathing heavily as you try to take a peek down below.
“Nope,” his hand reaches your chest, firmly keeping you pinned and making you look into his eyes. “I asked a question.”
“I… I want a girl.” You speak evenly this time, grinning at the thought of having your own baby doll to dress up.
“Oh, yeah? A girl?”
“Mhm.” Your lips press into a firm line, pulling air through your nose.
“Well, I'll give ya a girl, don't you worry.” He leans down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead before rising again and selfishly peeking at where you meet. Rouge and your slick mix, creating a pink sheen on his cock that gathers at the base.
He was gone.
“Gonna… gonna give ya a girl an’…” he mutters between breaths that rapidly grow, his hand travels further up by the second, his hips no longer thrust gently, they snap, as he keeps his bleary eyes set on your wrecked pussy. “She's gonna be so pretty, Darlin’. I can… see it now.”
“Daddy?” You timidly ask, raising your hands and wrapping them around his forearms.
His hips quicken, his hand finally reaches your neck and he rests his hand upon it, not yet harshly. His mind was set on something else.
The way your rouge-tinted spend now frothed along the base of his cock, making him let out a guttural groan, followed by open-mouthed gasps with each snap of his hips. The substance was the color of your spurts of red in the snow from yesterday, leaving a perfect little trail for him to find you. Falling into smears of pink behind you as you dragged yourself along.
“You jus’… you jus’ lemme know when to… stop.” The way he said it was almost mechanical, as if he said it out of some type of respect for sexual mannerisms. It wasn’t warm nor tender like his other lessons. It wasn’t like your Daddy, and it definitely wasn’t him when he immediately sped his hips up further, snapping into your cunt and making you let out a pitiful whine.
“Ow, it hurts!” You dig your fingernails into his forearms, though it did you no good because he was somewhere far out. Or rather, a different day. “Daddy, it hurts!"
“Ggmmh…” he lets out a deep sound of frustration. His other hand joins the one resting on your throat and shoves you down into the mattress, causing you to thrash and claw at him through shattered gasps. “Just shut up for a fuckin’ minute.”
His head tips back in ecstasy, pure bliss, as he's brought back to how you were silent, wounded, and not yet a nuisance. Lifeless. Waiting for him.
Your hands slip. Your vision slowly fades. Not into darkness, but into swimming rays. You see your Uncle’s warm smile and his glistening dark orbs as he hovers above you, tracing your lips, your cheeks, your collar bones. Everything around you is painted in beautiful incandescence as he gently thrusts into your hollows, filling you with the only pure and benign love you've felt, with the promise of finally starting a family with him.
Something he promised from the moment he first made love to you.
He was just about to take your face in his big, worn hands, and cradle it with tenderness as he leaned down to plant a sealing kiss on your lips when your body jolted back to the actuality of it all and your eyes shot open with a gasp. You grasp the sheets and sit up, hurriedly pushing yourself against the headboard and lifting your legs to your chest.
He’s already up, back turned to you as he moves toward the bathroom. “You jus’ hang tight there, let ‘er soak it in, Bug. Let ‘er take it,” he said it as if nothing happened, like he didn't almost end you.
Your Daddy never deliberately used force on you, only when you deserved it, or needed to learn. Nor did he curse at you without reason. This was something different. Even you know.
You sit with your legs pulled up and your arms wrapped around them for a moment longer, looking bewildered, unsure. Was that a part of it all?
You look toward the bathroom, hearing the running sink water, his faint, exhausted breaths, and his socked-feet scuffing against the floor. Familiar.
You mechanically move, carefully lowering yourself onto the bed, unsure if you should or if it was the right thing to do. You curl into yourself, lifting the plaid blanket over you that's permeated with him. Warmth, pine needles, and that bar soap you tease him about, which makes his skin dry, though he denies it's the cause.
Your mind immediately drifts elsewhere.
To Tommy. To his smile, his thick body that used to lie upon you, his gentle fingers that caressed your skin, and that talented, loving mouth that used to bless you and your sweet pussy.
Joel returns, clean and only in his boxers and t-shirt, and climbs in behind you with an old-man groan. Thereon, he settles and lies behind you with his stomach pressed against your back, and his arm draped over your waist with his fingers pressing firmly into your stomach.
You should melt into him like putty; instead, you stiffen at his touch, more so when he nuzzles his head into the back of your neck and begins kissing his way to your ear as his sharp beard hair pricks at your skin.
“You’re gonna make a beautiful mama, Bug. Most of all, you're gonna make me a daddy again. How ‘bout it?”
You give a small, incoherent nod, eyes wide and watery, hidden from him. The throb from where his hands were once clasped around your throat surfaces, and suddenly, you're too aware of everything.
“You're gonna be so beautiful, Sugar,” your Uncle had muttered, looking down at you with tenderness as you lay atop him, your chin resting on his chest, after he made love to you for the third time. He had just enough time to dream with you for a few moments before heading back to Jackson. “Carryin’ my baby. How many you want?”
“Four,” you giggled up at him.
“Four?!” He chuckled.
“Mhm.”
“Well… I s’ppose it wouldn't be too bad. We're gonna have a big cabin up on the mountain anyway. Be plenty of space for ‘em. However many you want.”
He promised you a future with no hurt, no pain. All the pretties you wanted, all the time you deserved outside. No separate room where monsters could claw their way to you in the dark, you'd still sleep with him in your same bedroom, but still learn from your mistakes. He promised you a home where no man, woman, or certain scarred and worn hands couldn't reach.
You let your eyes fall shut and pretend, just for a second, that it’s Tommy’s calloused fingers digging into your waist, Tommy’s lazy drawl in your ear whispering bedtime stories about your future, Tommy’s breath fanning over your skin as the world beyond your little cabin on the mountain hums quiet and safe.
In that pretend place, there is no blood drying between your thighs, no bruises blooming around your throat, no ghosts with your Daddy’s voice crawling under your skin. Just warm light, and coffee on the table, and a baby girl laughing somewhere outside while he builds you a swing because you told him once that you always wanted one back at the farmhouse, but your father never had time, too busy fortifying the property.
You clutch that thought like a charm against your ribs, so tight that crescents well in your palms, and you bite your tongue on Tommy’s name until it tastes like iron.
Joel’s fingers dig a little harder into your stomach, anchoring you, reminding you who actually found you in the snow, who carried you home, who saved you from everyone else’s hands. You lie still and believe you’re his, because if he is the one who hurts you, then he must be the only one who can keep you safe.
Out there on that mountain that never was, there’s a version of you that got away, the one that ran when your Uncle first told you how to.
No darkness. No pain. Everything you've wanted. Living the life he promised you.
Taglist: @the-tr0ublemaker @taniamiller @krisstyu @sophsturnioloz @marisemonteiroo (if i missed anyone, i'm so sorry! my brain is fried lmaooo!)
