Fuck me till I break and on

Summery: Runaway stumbled upon a stranger in the woods who offers her sanctuary.

WARNINGS: dark themes, Age gap (everyone is above 20), THERE WILL BE SMUT IN LATER POSTS I DIDN'T WANT TO RUSH IT!

Word Count: 1,420

I don't know what pushed me over the edge that day. Whether it was the scent of my father coming in at seven in the morning boozed up, or my mother staring at the wall barely blinking. The chipped paint of our run down farmhouse had become a luxury lately. With the bills piling up on the counter, most unopened, we'd surely lose the house. So I left.

The little box suitcase held everything I held dear. Really it was little more than a few old clothes and some books, but to me it was everything now. The soddy ground crunched under my boots as I found a familiar path in the woods. I had no idea where I was headed, but I always wanted to see the sea. Maybe I'd head west, to California. I think that might be too far to walk from Texas but...maybe if I took the train. People sneak on them all the time right?

"Fuck are y' doin' out here?" A gruff voice snapped me out of my thoughts. My wide eyes snapping up from the crunching dirt under my boots to cynical brown eyes. I stopped in my tracks slowly, realizing his red pickup was parked in the middle of the trail, stinking of gasoline and cigarettes. 

"Huh?" He continued to wait, stepping closer and crossing his broad arms over his chest. He looked a little bit older than me, maybe in his early thirties or mature for late twenties. I worried my bottom lip, looking behind me for assistance or an escape.

Something about him made me think I'd done something wrong, like he was here to condemn me and carry out the punishment. Seeing nothing but mud and barren trees from the late summer, I looked back at him reluctantly. 

"Just....out for a walk..." I said quietly, toying with the hem of my white eyelet dress. His bushy brows rose and his eyes seemed to narrow for a second before his eyes flicked down at my dress. 

"You uh...need a ride?" He asked somewhat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked to the side at the forest. I blinked shocked, eying this man who stood in dirt clad denim and flannel. A scratchy dark beard starting to cover his jaw and neck. 

"I ain't got anywhere to go..." I said slowly, biting the inside of my cheek and clutching the handle of my suitcase a little bit tighter in shame. My life has had little meaning since my 18th birthday. It's been three years now, the monotony of chores and my part time job at the gas station was enough to drive me a little mad. It was 1983, I should be partying, I should be someone, somewhere. 

The man's nose crinkled slightly in thought as he seemed almost angry for a minute. I debated running, but then I'd just have to run back the way I came and...back to me. 

"A'right...you need a place to crash? 'M leavin' anyways." He said and pushed off the hood of his truck. I stood shell shocked for a moment, looking around for cameras, police, my mother. Anything to tell me this is dangerous or a movie, anything sane in this self decomposition. 

Yet, he turned back as he opened his driver's side door, watching me with raised brows again.

"Well come on. Coyotes gonna get to ya if you walk." He waved me over in a careless, tired way. I took another slow step forward as he slammed his door shut, but when the engine roared to life I scurried over to the passengers side. My boots squelching in the mud of the dirt path and yesterday's rain. The metal door of his square body truck groaned open as I stepped inside.

"Now hold on...y' gotta slam it." He murmured, reaching across me to grab the handle and slam it with a bang. I watched, muttering a small thanks which he grunted a response too. 

He drove real slow out, not like the boys my age did, going sixty on a twenty. I found myself leaning back into his leather bench seat, not worried about getting wherever we're going in one piece. I watched the cloudy day outside pass by as he drove. 

"Didn't Y'r daddy ever tell ya' not to take rides from strangers?" He asked, glancing over at me briefly. I turned back to the windshield and pulled my dress further down my thighs.

"Everybody knows that." I said a bit defensively. My father hadn't taught me that, getting rides from the wrong strangers did. Anyway, he didn't know that. He did, however, pick up on the knife's sharp edge in my voice. Turning to look over at me again while he tried to hide the amused upturn of his lips. 

"And...? Y'r ears don't work?" He responded with a sigh as he shook his head as if disappointed. I turned to look at him slightly exasperated with his response. 

"Well you offered." I stated plainly, sitting up a little straighter.

"Yepp....guess I did." He gruffed out, reaching into the corner pocket of his flannel for his cigarettes. I tilted my head and furrowed my brows as I read the brand.

"Lucky Stripes?" I said in confusion, watching as he pulled a zippo out and lit it, trusting his truck to go straight apparently.

"Got something' against' em'?" He asked, resting his forearm atop the steering wheel as he put his cigarette pack back into his pocket. 

"No....you just seem like a Marlboro guy is all." I said quietly and settled back into the seat more comfortably.

"I look like a cowpoke to ya'?" He asked as he turned on his blinker to take a right down a dirt road.

"A little..." I responded cautiously, maybe he took his cigarettes more seriously than I thought. 

"Huh..." He gruffed out, not bothering to nurture the conversation, hence we fell into silence. The gravel and dirt crunched under his tires as his truck jolted a little to keep up with the unpaved road. I watched through his dust filtered windows as we passed a caved in farmhouse. The poverty of our county was well known, yet no one seemed to care. Not out here. We were unmonitored, alone, forgotten. My eyes caught on the way his veiny hands gripped the leather of the steering wheel. Hair seems to cling to every bit of skin along with dirt. When I tried to sneak another peak at his face, he turned towards me to give me a sharp look. I immediately looked away, my back stiffening against the leather. The old telephone pole we were passing was littered with missing persons posters. Most ripped off, some so old it looks like the weather took them. I tilted my head and watched curiously, saying a little prayer that they were found. Maybe...I will be found too. 

The sun was just setting by the time we reached a rickety white farmhouse. Its wooden front porch had already chipped most of the paint away from the desert rain. He killed the ignition once he parked in front of it. I followed him out of the truck and looked up at the house hesitantly. The scent of wheat and grains filled my nose as I looked around at fields of corn and grains. 

"Ain't much...'s safe though." He gruffed from beside me, but my eyes had latched onto a worn gray barn in a field of tall grass. One of its large doors had fallen off the hinges up top and was hanging down. I tilted my head as I studied it. Something so sinister struck me the longer I looked. Goosebumps seemed to pebble my skin even as the sun still battled the night. 

“Stay out of there.” He said sharply, drawing my attention back to him. Only he was looking out at the barn too, a myriad of emotions on his face that somehow remained reticent. I nodded solemnly, there was no reason for me to go snooping. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know what secrets hide in there. 

“Well…c’mon.” He waved me over lethargically with a big hand. His heavy steps creaked the chipped wood under his boots. I followed behind, quick to keep up. I wouldn't want to be out here alone past dark. I only hope inside is safer. Nearer my god to thee.

A/N: ANDDDDD PT 1 IS UP!!!! I want to thank all you guys for all the love and appreciation I got for my fragrance trend. Truly got me out of my writing slump lol. I PINKY PROMISE TO WRITE MORE PARTS TO THEIR STORY!!!!! I just didn't want to rush through it, but also you guys deserve some content for waiting!!!!!

THIS IS PART 1 OF MANY!!!!

At minimum about 4.5 thousand people liked this without reblogging it.

Hrm.... Fine, perverts. Here. You can see them clearly, yes? My unusually sharp teeth.