Boonies - 3- Locals
For the @deanobingo 2023 event!
Prompts: Will Johnson - "Oops" Wanted - Will Johnson x female Reader 3985 words
Summary: Will accompanies you to the market and gets a taste of the locals. He opts out of another invite, but when you come home drunk he's left with more questions once again.
CW: Alcohol use, drunken behaviour, mention of pain, mention of prior injuries, mention of scars, mention of antibiotics and Tylenol, mention of desired sexual activities, discussion of unwanted sexual attention (not noncon/SA), suggestive physical contact and kissing (T rated, dubcon).
Prev parts: 1, 2
Will woke in the blue hour light of pre-sunrise, the smell of freshly baked bread the first thing he registered. The market, right.
He remembered your comment about having an early morning and rubbed at his eyes, wondering how long you’d been up.
Stretching as he got out of the bed, he winced when his body reminded him of the leg injury he was supposed to be babying.
He wondered what the market setup would entail. Probably nothing too strenuous.
The idea of sitting behind your table doing nothing already made him feel stir-crazy, but he had decided the night before that he wanted to go with you, if only to get off your property and clear his head a bit. He still wasn’t sure if what he’d seen was real, or if he was hallucinating problems now in addition to thinking of them constantly.
He cleaned up in the ensuite and got dressed, then wandered toward the kitchen in hopes of scoring a breakfast that tasted as good as the house currently smelled.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Will teased, though the groggy rasp of his voice turned what he’d meant as a playful greeting into a tired one.
You wrapped a cooled loaf of bread in cling film, smiling as you looked over your shoulder. “Nothing at the moment. You hungry?”
Will grunted, walking over to lean against the counter near where you were standing. Various baked goods had been packaged up for sale. “I don’t want to put you out. Seems you’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, I was.” You smiled, satisfied with your own efforts.
“Oh, here-” You moved to pull a plate closer, revealing three cinnamon rolls. “I had one earlier, but these are for you. You don’t have to eat them right aw-”
Will took one off the plate before you could finish your sentence, brows raised and scruffy cheeks dimpled by his grin as he started ripping it apart. “Chur.”
“Well, hold on, there’s frosting, too.” You stepped away to grab a bowl from the fridge that you placed on the counter for him. “I wasn’t sure if you liked yours heated up, or what…”
“Beauty.”
You watched as Will slathered a thick layer of frosting on his roll before continuing to pick it apart with his thick fingers. It wasn’t a refined way of eating by any means, but the rapturous look on his face forced you to forgive him any lack of manners.
Will thought to himself that he might get fat staying here, but he didn’t care if it meant eating like this.
The sun finally rose above the horizon, bathing the kitchen in a golden glow as it shone low through the windows. Will looked up to see you looking outside in the direction he’d seen the figure the night before and swallowed.
“Do you get many trespassers?” “What?” “Well, you’re-” He gestured. “Out in the wops, don’t have the best fences. Get many people on your land?”
You let out a laugh. “No, you’re the first squatter in my coop so far.”
“No theft, or- anything like that?”
“Nope.” You flashed him an easy grin. “Safe as houses. So relax.”
Will’s brow furrowed, keeping eye contact.
“I know you checked the locks last night. But I promise, nobody’s out here but us and the hens.”
He hesitated, still unsure. If he told you he thought he’d seen someone, that would either scare you or make you think he was crazy.
He forced a false laugh into his voice, turning his attention back to his food. “Right.”
You watched him for a moment, wondering what had happened to make him so vigilant.
Possibly related to those scars…
You pictured his naked torso, the image of him ripping out your fence the day earlier still fresh in your mind. He was fit and strong despite his injury. You had no doubt he’d be capable of defending himself against most people. Then again, something had clearly torn through him in the past.
Must have been something bad.
--
Will leaned back in the folding camping chair you’d offered him, enjoying the fresh morning air as people milled about in the paved area being used for the farmer’s market. He was subtly watching the crowd, knowing rationally that nothing was likely to happen, and trying to appear relaxed.
It hadn’t taken long for you to set up your table, batting away Will’s attempts to help. You had done this the same way every Saturday for months now, and you had a system. You had even packed you both coffees in travel mugs to keep you warm.
You looked over to him, thinking he looked every bit like the rugged outdoorsman he was. You could see him sitting exactly like that, relaxed beside a campfire somewhere. As you looked over his strong frame, you wondered if the chair would support both of you if you decided to sit on his lap.
I bet he gets really worked up after a hunt; all that testosterone…
You forced yourself to look away, scanning the booths and noting all the familiar faces as you pushed the idea from your mind. Your life was here, in the boonies. His was in Dunedin.
Will sipped at his coffee, thinking idly that he looked forward to eating another cinnamon roll later.
You turned to him again, dropping your voice so nobody would hear.
“Thanks for coming, eh? It can get a bit boring sitting alone.” “Nah, no worries.” “Oh, but- feel free to look around, too.”
Will hummed, not really interested in the wares and trying to ignore the pain in his leg. He had taken the antibiotics, but no Tylenol that morning, and he was starting to regret it. Without work to distract him he was over-aware of the swelling and thrumming of his skin. Maybe I overdid it yesterday.
Not that he’d ever admit it. He’d just be sure to take something when you got back.
Soon you were trading greetings with customers, selling them roughly the same things they bought every week, or at times trading wares with another vendor who you had arrangements with. Will kept quiet, but offered polite smiles to anyone who looked his way.
Eventually Pete walked over, his large frame making his presence somewhat overbearing.
“Mornin’ love.” “Morning.”
He gave a nod to Will. “You keeping off that leg?”
Will gestured at it from his seat. “More or less.”
Pete’s gaze turned to you. “And all’s well?”
You smiled. “Mmhmm.”
Pete narrowed his eyes at Will. “And you’re not giving her any trouble?”
“Pete-” Will raised his hands defensively. “It’s like staying at a bloody hotel. I told her not to fuss, but-”
“It’s no trouble,” you argued, slight irritation in your voice. “Just chill.”
Will snickered, shrugging at Pete as though to say ‘my hands are tied’.
Pete hummed, thinking the two of you were getting chummy, but saw to his business with you rather than pressing the issue.
“Busy day.” He tucked the loaf of bread he’d bought into a tote bag and scratched at his cheek. “Mac wants me to shave before the dance. Speaking of- Pick you up at the usual time tonight?”
“Tonight? I thought it wasn’t til the fifteenth?” “Today is the fifteenth, love.”
You checked your phone to see the date displayed above the time. “So it is.” You tucked some hair behind your ear, feeling embarrassed. “Where’s the month gone?”
“Well, I suppose when you have company, it can be a bit distracting,” he teased, raising a brow at Will to make it clear what he was implying he thought was going on between you. “See you both tonight.” He gave a pointed look to Will, then walked off before you could say anything to confirm or deny his implication.
You turned to Will and smiled. “You should come with me. It’s always a hoot.”
He grinned at your phrasing. A hoot.
“Once a month, everyone dresses up nice and we have a big dinner and dance.”
Will sucked in a breath, pretending to be disappointed. “Aw, and here I didn’t pack my suit.”
You laughed. “You don’t have to dress formally. We just do it for fun. You look great just as you are.”
Will chewed his lower lip, tearing his eyes away from you to try to think rationally. He had an uneasy feeling he couldn’t shake, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the odd encounter the night before, or the idea of being in an unknown place full of strangers. He knew he’d spend the evening eyeing exits and sizing up every person who came within a hundred feet of him.
“Still, I think I’ll give it a miss, if it’s all the same.” “Of course. Sorry! I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, I just-”
He shook his head at your apology. “All good. Not my scene, that’s all.” He patted his knee. “And I reckon I should rest this so I can get out of your hair.”
You pursed your lips. “Fair enough.”
You couldn’t deny being disappointed, but he was dealing with enough without being forced into awkward social situations on top of having to stay with you when he clearly hadn’t wanted to.
“You gonna dance with Pete?” Will asked teasingly.
You laughed. “Not likely. I think his husband will eat up most of his dance card.”
Will raised his brow but nodded. That explains who ‘Mac’ is.
“Kia ora, beautiful.”
You both turned to face the man who had walked up to interrupt you.
Will first took note of the out of place attire. While most people were milling about in casual clothing, the tall, spindly man standing at your table was in an expensive looking suit. It was perfectly tailored, and, paired with the flashy watch and sunnies he was just removing, he looked like someone you’d find in Auckland, not the wop-wops.
“Mornin’, Dan,” you greeted him casually, though your voice didn’t hold nearly the level of interest that you’d been greeted with.
Will glanced your way and took note of the placid smile on your face, a stark contrast to the way Dan seemed to be undressing you with his eyes.
“Always good to see you.” Dan turned his attention to Will, tilting his head. “Though I don’t believe we’ve met.” He put out his hand. “Dan Coates.”
Will sat up straighter to shake his hand. “Will Johnson.”
“You new to town, Will?”
“Ah- no.” Will gestured dismissively. “Just visiting.”
Dan glanced between the both of you. “Oh! Family?”
“No. Will’s a chicken coop enthusiast,” you answered lightly. Will laughed while Dan tilted his head to figure out what that could possibly mean.
“I’m imposing on her hospitality,” Will corrected.
“Not even! I’m very happy to provide three square meals in exchange for free labour.”
Will narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “Maybe you’re taking advantage of me, then.”
When you snorted, Dan shifted and cleared his throat. “It’s not often you have visitors,” Dan remarked.
You shrugged, uninterested in elaborating.
“I hope you’re still coming tonight?” “Yeah, I’ll be there.” “And Will?”
Will met his gaze. “Think I’ll give it a miss. Don’t want to impose.”
“That’s a shame,” Dan lied, relief washing over his features. He gestured to your stock. “I’ll get a dozen eggs?”
You replied with the price, and made no particular fanfare as you accepted it and said a quick thanks.
“See you tonight.” Dan winked, then walked off, head held high.
Will waited until Dan was out of earshot to lean over. “That jafa seems to like you.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion as you tucked the money in your cash box. “What’s a jafa?”
Will laughed under his breath. “Uh- nevermind. It’s not a nice thing to say.”
You raised your brows and turned to him again. “Dan Coates is a pillar of the community,” you began, in a mock-chastising tone. “And I’m told - repeatedly - that he is sorely lacking in a wife.”
“Must be ‘cause he blends right in.”
You covered your mouth to try to silence your laugh, and Will found himself smiling as he took note of the way your eyes wrinkled at the effort.
“You’re terrible,” you whispered, pulling yourself together as another customer made their way closer to your table.
Will smiled to himself as you seemed to light up for this new person, and he thought idly that Dan must have been dense to think you were interested in him given how your demeanor had changed so drastically when he’d shown up.
He looked out into the crowd and spotted him chatting up an older woman who was practically fawning. The man seemed to have everyone else eating out of the palm of his hands, so maybe it just didn’t occur to him that you’d be any different.
When you were alone at the table again, Will drummed his fingers against its edge. “Why don’t you fancy Mr. Coates, then?” he asked quietly.
“What?” You’d already forgotten about him, and was surprised by Will bringing him up.
“If he’s such a fine, upstanding man?”
You rolled your eyes. “He is, you know? He’s very good to everyone. I don’t dislike him, exactly. He’s just not my type, that’s all.”
“Oh, you have a type.”
“Well- No, that’s not- I just…” You winced, shoulders raising in discomfort. “I dunno, he doesn’t do it for me.”
“And what does?”
The air was thick between you as you met each other’s gazes.
Oh, you know… Piercing blue eyes and golden curls and thick muscles… The kind of man who can rip out fence posts while recovering from a leg injury and still feel restless. Someone who would rather hunt to provide than pick out luxury sunglasses to wear to the farmer’s market…
Will’s eyes darted down to your lips and back, and you licked them unconsciously. He tilted his head the other way, but just as he parted his lips to say something, another customer appeared at the table.
“Kia ora!”
“Oh- g’morning.” You shifted in your seat and forced a smile that slowly became genuine as you chatted up the woman who was picking out baked goods.
Will leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, reminding himself that it was probably better he drop that particular line of thinking.
---
Late that afternoon, you stepped into the living room after having gotten ready for the evening.
Will stilled at the sight of you, momentarily rethinking declining your invitation. You looked almost like a different person, your hair perfectly styled, sporting smokey eye makeup and false lashes, and looking completely out of his league in the backless dress you were wearing.
“Pete and Mac are on their way to pick me up. Dinner’s in the fridge, and help yourself to whatever,” you greeted, worried he wouldn’t eat without your insistence.
He blinked as though coming out of a daze. “Uh- yeah, ta. Will do.”
You caught the way he was looking at you and chewed your lower lip. “Is it too much? Should I change?”
“No! No, you look skux.”
You scrunched your face in confusion. “Skux? Is that a good thing?”
He laughed under his breath, hanging his head and shutting his eyes momentarily before looking up through his long, pale lashes.
“Yeah. You look great.”
He shifted and licked his lips. “Pete’s a lucky man.”
You laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.”
He chuckled but shook his head. “Oh, no, don’t.”
He looked you over again and raised his brows. “I bet Dan Coates will be all over you,” he teased.
“Oh god.” You rolled your eyes and groaned. “Probably. What a drag.”
He snickered, secretly relieved that you thought so.
You pouted playfully. “You sure I can’t twist your arm into coming? You’d save me a lot of trouble.”
He contemplated it, but shook his head. “Nah. Not my scene.”
You sighed dramatically. “Well, alright then. It can’t be helped.”
You both perked up at the sound of a vehicle on the gravel road.
“That’ll be Pete. See you tonight!”
---
Will heard the crunch of a vehicle on the gravel road, but frowned when he realized it didn’t sound like the truck you’d left in.
He got out of bed still naked and walked to the window to peer through the sun-faded curtains.
A shiny red sedan pulled up the driveway out front, and he saw you get out the passenger side as Dan Coates opened the driver door.
He watched you gesture dismissively at Dan, looking grumpy and out of sorts as you made your way to the house. Dan simply stood watching, finally climbing back into his vehicle as Will heard you unlock the front door.
He let go of the curtain and returned to the bed, wondering if it would be odd of him to greet you. He sat in the dark, listening, but after several minutes, you still hadn’t made your way down the hall to your room.
He huffed. It wasn’t like he was going to be able to sleep now anyway, too many scenarios running through his mind.
He took a pair of grey joggers from his pack and pulled them on hastily before opening the bedroom door.
The kitchen light illuminated the end of the hallway, and he could hear you making some unfamiliar noise there. As he approached, he realized what it was.
He stepped into the room to see you leaning against the counter beside the sink, an open beer in one hand, and the other pressing at your face as you cried quietly.
“What’s wrong?”
You dropped your can in alarm, beer spilling over the tiled floor. “Jesus-”
Will moved to deal with the mess, righting the can and throwing the kitchen towel from your oven handle over the puddle.
He gazed up at you from his crouching position by your feet.
“Oops. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“No, I-” You sniffled, wiping at your face. “I just forgot you were here. Sorry.”
How you could have possibly forgotten about the dreamboat houseguest for even a moment, you weren’t sure. And now he was wiping the floor clean for you in nothing but joggers, looking like he lived here. As if. That would be lovely, but you told yourself not to be deluded.
You moved away, pulling a clean towel out of a cupboard as he placed the sullied one - and your half-empty can - in the sink.
When you both were done, he stood before you, his impossibly blue eyes searching your now-reddened ones.
“What’s wrong?” he repeated. “Doesn’t matter.”
He shrugged, a smile playing on his lips, eyes soft with affection. “Tell me anyway.”
You sighed, hugging yourself as you looked away. “It’s just- There comes a time in the night where everyone just… pairs off. So I’m standing there, alone, watching all the old couples dancing…” You shut your eyes as you trailed off, wincing as you recalled how awkward you’d felt and what had happened next.
Will hummed. “And you with no date of your own.”
“That was part of it.” You shrugged, feeling stupid. You’d gotten wasted in an attempt to ease your discomfort, but it had just made you ornery.
Will stepped over to the boombox that sat on top of the sideboard buffet. He pressed play, unsure what to expect when the CD whirred to life inside.
You laughed when Michael Bublé’s version of ‘Put Your Head on My Shoulder’ started playing. “Oh god, Aunt Macy…”
But Will stepped over to you with his hands out to invite you to dance, his expectant expression telling you he was serious about the offer.
You took his hands and swallowed as he guided one to his shoulder so he could grip your waist on that side, your other hands held fast, palm-to-palm. You let him lead you in slow, careful steps on the uneven kitchen tiles.
“You’re a better dancer than I would have thought,” you murmured. Especially with a leg injury.
Will smiled sardonically. “Picked it up cuz chicks love to slow dance, and loads of guys won’t do it.”
You snickered, moving closer to hug him close like you did at school dances as a teen. Lost in the euphoria of pressing against his bare torso, you shut your eyes to stop the room from spinning.
You could feel his body radiating heat, warming your bare shoulders and arms as you tried to identify what he smelled like.
“It’s nice,” you murmured. You wanted to stay like this for a long time.
He swallowed, moving his hand up your back to hold you close. It happened to find the exposed skin, and he wondered suddenly if this was alright.
You were clearly drunk, and you barely knew each other. He thought again about how vulnerable you’d made yourself, letting a strange man into your home like this, knowing what other men might do in this situation; how they might hurt you.
His hand twitched against your bare back and he pressed his chin to your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin.
You should know better, he thought. You should be more careful.
Of course, you weren’t at all concerned about him being a threat. You were completely comfortable in his hold, despite only knowing him a few days. Blissed out, your sour mood had completely dissolved thanks to his kind gesture. To you, Will was just further proof that the world could be good to you if you gave it a chance.
You pulled back a bit, moving your head to try to meet his gaze. He mirrored your actions, tucking his lower lip under his teeth briefly as you searched his pale blues.
“You should have come,” you lamented. One of your hands moved up to cup his scruffy cheek. “I would have liked that much better.”
He frowned, still unclear what exactly had happened to upset you.
Then you tipped forward, catching him off-guard. He stilled as your lips met his, his eyes closing as he kissed back automatically before he could think straight. It was only when he identified the taste of alcohol in your kiss that he stopped.
Fuck, what am I doing?
He pulled away suddenly as the song ended and hit the stop button on the machine. He wiped his mouth with his hand as he took a deep breath, then turned to face you again.
“We should get you to bed,” he suggested.
You pointed at him, then stepped closer to boop his nose. “I will get myself to bed.”
Will nodded, tense with discomfort. That had more or less been what he meant, but he understood that you may have taken that as him trying it on. “Good.”
“Thank you for the dance.” “My pleasure.” “Good night Will Johnson.”
“Night,” he nodded. “Oh! Bring your water bottle.” “For bed?” “For the hangover you’re going to have tomorrow.”
You gestured dismissively.
“Pahhhh.”
Still, he pulled your bottle out of the fridge and pressed it into your hands before watching you stumble down the hallway.
Your nonchalance made him question what you’d been thinking when you’d kissed him. Were you too drunk to realize? Though he couldn’t deny he’d wanted to kiss you for days now. A conversation for tomorrow.
He shook his head, smiling to himself, but after a moment he leaned against the counter and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
His mind raced with impossible scenarios; Kel Morrison and his men surrounding the cottage, trying to get in. Trying to get him. Or you.
He winced at the pain in his leg - maybe dancing had been a bit ambitious when it had already been giving him grief - but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he checked all the doors and windows again.
---
A/N: The WIP currently has 8 parts so we'll see how that goes (usually the stories grow as I write them... oops). Thank you so much for reading this if you did! ♥
Tags: @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @the-butterfly-blues @the-poldarkian @fortheloveofdurin @spngingerbread21 @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @missihart23
As always, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from a taglist (for everything, for specific characters, etc.)
