Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You and Louisa were taking the long way through town, the dust rising off your shoes as the afternoon sun settles down low and the Mississippi heat starts rising up. It’s too warm for spring, the kind of heat that clings to your skin and makes everything feel a little slow. And Louisa’s talking about something; her aunt’s hens, maybe… but you only half hear her, as your eyes keep drifting from porch to porch, from the men posted up outside the stores, to the women fanning themselves in the doorways. Your mind was elsewhere.
Until some whispers catch your ear.

It’s not loud. Not meant for you. Just a bit of talk slipping from a loose pair of lips; two men leaning close beside Bo and Grace’s general store.

Something ‘bout…

“next Saturday night”

“Smokestack twins”

“out past the delta, in that old barn the white man sold”

You slowed down without even thinking, till Louisa bumps your arm bringing you back to reality. “What you stoppin’ for?”

You hush her with a look, turning your head just enough to listen without being seen listening.

“Ain’t just music,” one of them says, voice low, like it ought not carry through that rough voice of his. “Them boys don’t do nothin’ small.”
The other man lets out a short laugh. “Whole place gonna be lit up. Folks comin’ from three towns over.”

Next Saturday. One night.

Juke joint.

Louisa hears it then too, and you don’t even have to look at her to know her eyes have gone wide. “You hearin’ this?” she whispers, grabbing your wrist. “They sayin’ it’s gonna be somethin’ special.”

You try to keep your voice down and even. “Ain’t nothin’ special ‘bout a bunch of folks drinkin’ and carryin’ on.”

But the words don’t sit right, not even to your own ears.

Louisa grins. “Mm hmm. You keep tellin’ yourself that.”

You start walking again, a little quicker now, though you don’t say why. You feel a bit excited at the mere thought of there actually being something to do in town. Even the heat doesn’t feel so bad anymore; and for only a moment it feels like the whole town is holding its breath around this one small “secret”, like something big was gonna happen, even if it’s only a week away.

“Smokestack twins,” Louisa says, rolling the name around like it tastes good. “They just got back from Chicago, ain’t they?”

“That’s what folks say.”

“My cousin seen ‘em once,” she goes on. “Said they dress like city men, all sharp and clean. Said when they walk in a place, everybody turns to look at ‘em whether they mean to or not.”

You shrug, but your curiosity grows anyway.

“And they bringin’ somebody with ‘em,” Louisa adds, dropping her voice again into a hush. “Heard that too. Some cousin of theirs.”

You glance at her. “What kind of cousin?”

She smiles slowly. “The kind folks keep talkin’ about.”

You don’t get the chance to answer.

Because just ahead, near the edge of the street where the railroad cuts into town, three figures come into view.

Louisa’s grip tightens on your arm. “Speak of the devil…”

And you know before she even says it.

The twins stood side by side, tall and straight, dressed finer than anyone’s got a right to be in a town like this, and it wasn't Sunday neither. They stood in their finely crafted dark tailored suits with red and blue undertones, and their hats tipped low enough to show their eyes. There was something easy about the way they held themselves, like the whole world bent a little to make room for them.

And then there was their cousin…

He stood just off to the side, a guitar case hanging loose from one of his hands. He didn’t look like them; not exactly. He seemed simpler, softer at the edges, like someone who just got thrown into their world and tried to fit in.

Then he lifted his head.

And for a second, just one, you almost forgot how to breathe.

Because he was real handsome, in that almost innocent kind of way.

“They call him the preacher boy.” Louisa mutters under her breath.

And yeah, you’ve heard that name before, in passing, always said with a smile or a lowered voice, like it meant more than it ought to. And you never paid it much mind.

Not until now.

Then his gaze found yours, like he felt someone watching him.

His brown eyes looked like honey in the sunlight and you were totally and completely lost in them.

Then your stomach did that thing. That slow and strange feeling, like you can’t tell if it’s nerves or something else entirely. Something that feels a little like stepping too close to the edge of a cliff and not knowing how far down it goes.

Louisa leans in, barely daring to speak. “That’s him,” she breathes. “That’s the one they was talkin’ about.”

You just nod, barely acknowledging her because you were still locking eyes with the preacher boy. You should look away.

You know you should.

But you don’t.

Not until one of the twins says whispers something to the preacher boy, too low for you to catch, and his gaze slips from yours.

The spell breaks.

Just like that, bringing you back into reality.

“Come on,” you say to Louisa, though your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to. You tug her along, past them, past the shade, past the place where something seems to linger in the air for a while.

Neither of you speaks for a few steps.

Then Louisa lets out a breath she’s been holding. “Lord,” she murmurs. “You see the way he looked at you?”

You shake your head too quickly. “He wasn’t lookin’ at me.”

But your face gave it away, you were blushing a bit.

“Mmm,” she hums, unconvinced.

You don’t turn back. You don’t dare.

But you feel it anyway, that pull, the way his gaze felt quiet and steady, that feeling you got when he looked at you... And your thoughts kept turning.

Next Saturday.

One night.

A juke joint out past the edge of the delta.

You don’t remember much of the walk after that.

Only the heat. The dust. Louisa still talking your ear off, her voice rising and falling like it always does, though the words don’t quite reach you. Something in you has gone distant, between where you are and where you know you wanna be next Saturday night.

You part ways at the corner, Louisa squeezing your hand before she goes. “Don’t you forget,” she says, eyes bright. “Next Saturday.”

Like you could forget.

You nod, and watch her disappear down her road before turning toward home.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, the juke… how it would feel to be free for one night, maybe you even get the chance to talk to that handsome preacher boy. But your throat feels tight, because you already know what your mama’s answer would be before you even ask…

You get home, and the house sits just the same as always, low and quiet beneath the trees, paint peeling from the sides, and the screen door hanging a little crooked on its hinges.

You step through the door, letting it creak shut behind you. The air inside is cooler, carrying the faint smell of starch and something cooking low on the stove. Your mama’s not in the front room, though you can hear her moving around in the back, with the soft clatter of a pot lid, the scrape of a chair...

You ought to go to her. Say that you’re home. Ask what she needs.

But instead, you just linger in the front room.

Only for a moment.

And without thinking, you let out a soft breath and then a hum.

It's low. Barely there.

Then you stop yourself.

Your own voice startles you, like it didn’t come from your throat at all. You hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t chosen it. But it’s there now... A slow and steady tune you don’t remember ever learning.
You swallow, but it doesn’t stop.

And for a second, you let yourself imagine.

A dimly lit barn, people dancing, and the sound of the blues wrapping around you.

You shake your head, quick, trying to clear it, but you keep humming like it just felt right. It felt like being alive.

And you were so caught up inside your own head that you didn’t even hear your mama’s footsteps at first.

Not until they were right behind you...

Chapter Text

“What’s that you humming, girl?”

Your breath catches hard.

The humming stops in your throat, as you slowly turn.

There was Mama in the doorway, one hand still holding her wooden stirring spoon; the one you prayed she wouldn't use on you. And she gave you THAT look, the one that makes your stomach drop clean through to your feet. She ain’t angry, not exactly.

But she ain’t soft, neither.

“I ain’t—” you start, but she steps closer, and the look in her eyes makes you shut your mouth.

“Don’t you tell me what I didn’t hear.” Her voice ain’t loud, but it carries weight. “That’s them blues you hummin’. I know it same as I know my own name.”

You shift your feet, looking down at the floor. “It just came to me,” you say, quieter now. “I don’t even know where from.”

“I do.” She folds her arms, gaze steady on you. “From the wrong place. From the kind of place a good girl like you got no business reachin’ toward.”

You swallow. Your throat feels tight again. “It’s just a song, Mama.”

Her expression hardens. “Don’t you say that like it don’t mean nothin’. Ain’t just a song. Not that kind.” She shakes her head slow. “That’s the devil’s music. Always has been. Gets in folk’s bones, turns ‘em restless. Makes ‘em forget who they belong to.”

“I ain’t forgot nothin’ Mama.” you mutter quieter

“Mmm.” she mutters like she doesn’t fully believe you. “You best not.”

The silence stretches. You can feel the words building in you before you even decide to speak them, just pouring out of you.

“Mama…” you start, carefully thinking of your next words.

Mama doesn’t answer, but her expression doesn’t ease either.

“They was sayin’,” you go on, “there’s gonna be a juke joint next Saturday. Out past the delta.”

“Just for one night.” you quickly add

Her face goes pale.

But you press on anyway, your voice a bit rushed now. “Folks comin’ from all over. And Louisa says—”

“I don’t care what Louisa says.” Mama says stern

You hesitate, then try again, softer this time. “I was thinkin’… maybe I could go. Just for a little while. I wouldn’t stay late. I’d be careful, I swear it.”

“No.”

She don’t raise her voice. Don’t need to.

Your throat tightens. “You ain’t even gonna think on it?”

“Ain’t nothin’ to think on.”

“It’s just music,” you say again, though your voice sounds weaker against Mama’s stubbornness now. “Just dancin’ and folks havin’ a good time.”

Her eyes flash with a sharp concern. “That ain’t the kind of place for you.”

“Why not?” The question slips out before you can stop it.

“Because I said so.”

You take a step closer, hands curling into your dress as you try to plead with her. “Mama, please. Just this once—”

“I said no.” Firmer now. Final. “You ain’t steppin’ foot in no juke joint, you hear me? Not next Saturday, not any Saturday. I won’t have you mixin’ with that kind people.”

That kind of people

It rings in your ears. What was mama on about? She couldn’t possibly know all the kind of people who went to the juke. They couldn’t all be so bad…

Then you think of him. The Preacher boy

The way his eyes met yours like it meant something.

“It ain’t like that,” you finally whisper.

Her gaze sharpens. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Then let me see.” you plead with all your might

“No.”

The word snaps between you again making your heart sink a bit.

You blink fast, trying to hold yourself steady, but you keep pushing back. “You can’t keep me here forever.”

Her face changes then, not softer, but that kind of concern you knew all too well. “I ain’t tryin’ to keep you forever,” she says. “I’m tryin’ to keep you safe.”

“From a song?” your voice comes out cracked and frustrated

“From what comes with it.”

You pause for a moment clenching your jaw, not even thinking as your next words spill out

“Didn’t you meet Daddy at a Juke?”

Mama looks at you, as if you’ve just spoken something taboo out loud

“And why you think you never knew your daddy, girl?” Her words came out more bitter than angry, like she was still pained by it.

Mama’s words shut you up right away. You felt bad for ever letting the words slip from your mouth. So you just lowered your head and nodded silently.

“You know exactly what kind of trouble those jukes bring with ‘em.” Mama starts

“Filled with men like dogs. Just sniffing around and waiting for a pretty girl like you, so he can get you into trouble. The kind of trouble you can’t leave behind after the night’s over." her voice is still pained but protective, like she already knew too well what kind of price those places make you pay, and not just money.

And the silence falls again, much heavier than before.

You look away first, with your your head down again, your eyes settling on the worn boards of the floor; lookin’ at all the familiar lines and cracks you’ve known all your life. This house. This room. These damn rules.

Then your mama’s voice comes out quieter now.. “You let that foolishness go,” she says. “And you don’t let me hear that hummin’ again. You understand me?”

You nod.

Because you know better than to do anything else.

“Say it,” she presses.

“I understand.”

She watches you a moment longer, like she’s trying to make sure she really got through to you, then finally turns back toward the kitchen

And you just stand there, listening to the sounds of the house settle back into place as you think.

"I'm still goin' to that juke. you mutter to yourself quietly.

Chapter Text

Saturday finally comes around.

And you wake up real early that morning, like you were too restless to wait. You spent all week trying to be good, do all your chores, and swallow that tune that kept creeping up on your lips.

You and Louisa were gonna sneak out tonight, at least that’s what the plan was.

So, you move through the house quiet as you can, helping where you’re needed, speaking only when spoken to. Your mama watches you once or twice, her eyes lingering just a second too long, like she’s watching for you to slip up on something. Mother's intuition.

But you make sure she don’t hear it.

Not the hum. Not the excitement you feel about tonight, none of it.

By the time the sun dips and the sky turns that soft, bruised kind of purple color, you already know what you’re going to do.

You wait.

The night settles in slow. Oil lamps are lit, the crickets start up their own song outside. And after a while, your mama finally goes to bed, her door closing with a soft click.

And you keep waiting, because you know mama is a light sleeper.

One minute. Two. Five.

Until the house sounds quiet enough, and you know mama is finally asleep.

Only then do you finally move. You moved quiet as a dead man, your feet know the boards that creak and the ones that don’t. And you manage to slip past the front room, past the creaky door, easing it open just enough to slide through before letting it fall shut behind you.

Louisa’s already waiting down the road, just past the bend, shifting from one foot to the other like she might combust if she has to wait around for you a second longer.

“You took forever,” she whines, though she’s grinning wide.

“I had to make sure mama was asleep, you know how she is.” you whisper back.

Then she sees what you’re carrying.

“Is that—?”

You glance down at the dress you had draped over your arm. Your mama’s dress. Or what used to be hers, from a time she don’t speak about much anymore. The fabric still looks brand new, soft like silk with a dark red, classy kind of pattern.

“I found it tucked away in her room while I was doing my chores” you say. “Figured… she ain’t usin’ it, so I might.”

Louisa lets out a low whistle. “You gon’ have every eye on you tonight.”

You don’t answer, but your face says it all, you're just as excited.

Both of you change there by the roadside, quickly and quiet, trading in your day dress for something that feels like stepping into another life. A night life. The dress fits you better than it ought to and it looks great, like it was meant to be worn by you.

Louisa smooths her own borrowed dress too, spinning once under the moonlight. “Look at us,” she says, half laughing. “We ain’t even the same girls we was this mornin’.”

“No,” you murmur, glancing down at your dress, at the way the fabric falls against your skin. You ain’t. You looked real grown and pretty. More like your mama when she was younger in all those old hidden photographs you once saw.

The walk out past the delta feels longer at night.

The road stretches wide and empty, the fields on either side. But the farther you go, the more the quiet starts to change into something else entirely.

At first, it’s just a faint pulse.

Then it grows.

Music.

The blues.

Louisa grabs your hand. “You hear that?”

You nod, though your heart’s already beating out of your chest.

By the time the barn comes into view, it’s alive.

The light from inside spills outside. Voices rise and fall, laughter fading into the night. The music is louder now, more lively and real. You actually made it to the juke.

People crowd the entrance, drifting in and out, dressed in their best dresses and suits, but not the kind you see on Sunday morning. No... this was the type of clothes you only see people pull out once in a blue moon. And it felt glamourous. You felt glamourous.

You and Louisa finally walk up to the entrance where the door man, Cornbread stood.

Cornbread glanced at the both of you with a faint knowing look.

"You girls really think this the place you ought to be this time of night?"

That makes you both faulter a second; but then Louisa stands a bit taller and speaks in a smooth voice that went way beyond her actual years. "Yes sir! were just here for some blues is all."

"Aright, then." Cornbread mutters like he doesn't fully believe the both of you, but lets you in anyway.

Inside the air smells like smoke and sweat and something sweet.

Louisa squeezes your hand once more. “We really here,” she whispers like she couldn't believe it either.

You barely hear her.

Because the moment you step inside further, it all hits you.

The sound. The heat. The movement of bodies packed close, swaying and turning under low lights and blues playing. It’s like stepping into a living thing, something breathing and pulsing all around you.

And somewhere in the crowd is him...

You don’t see him right away. Not at first.

Then Louisa pulls you deeper into the crowd, laughing, already caught up in it all. But your eyes keep searching. You were looking for him.

And then you see him. Near the edge of the room, guitar in his hands.

The preacher boy.

He’s playing now, fingers moving over the strings, and singin' blues like the music’s got nowhere else to go but through him.

And he finally looks up. His eyes finding yours, and this time there's no interruptions.

And you feel your feet start moving on their own towards him.

Louisa says something... your name maybe; but it all fades behind you as you cross the room, the crowd parting just enough to let you through.

By the time you reach him, your heart’s beating so loud you’re sure he must hear it too.

Preacher boy lets the last note fall, his fingers stilling against the strings.

“Evenin’,” he says, his voice was low, smooth.

And damn this was the first time you heard him speak. His voice didn't sound like no regular preacher boy.

You swallow and then finally force out a word in return. “Evenin’.”

And you felt nervous all over again.

“I heard you playin’,” you manage to say without stuttering or making a fool of yourself. “Out there, I mean. Before.”

He tilts his head a little with a smile that made your heart stop a bit. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Felt like I knew it. Even though I didn’t.”

And he nods with a knowing and charming smile. “It's the blues, they don’t need knowin’ you just feel 'em.”

For a moment, the noise around you fades. The people, the laughter, the whole of the room seems to just fade away completely until it’s only you and him and the quiet space between the two of you.

“What they call you?” he asks.

You tell him.

He repeats it, like he had been waiting all week to know.

“I’m—” he starts, then pauses, that same charming smile returning. “Well. Folks got a few names for me.”

“The preacher boy,” you say softly.

His eyes widen a bit. “That what they told you?”

“That what they say.”

“And what do you think?”

You hesitate for a second, praying you don't say something dumb.

Then, too honest before you can stop yourself, you say, “I think… I ain’t ever seen nobody like you.”

That makes him smile a bit shy all of the sudden. Like maybe he's got that feeling in his stomach too now.

He steps just a bit closer to you.

And you don’t step back.

Because standing there, with the music rising up again around you, with his voice low and close, and the night still young, you feel something. That this moment, this juke, this man... Is something you’ve been waiting on without ever knowing it.

Something that might last.

Your forever man.

And just as the thought settles in your head, he reaches for your hand.

But the moment is quickly broken by a loud booming voice

"SAMMIE!"

"I need you here boy, I can't go following you around all night."

It was Stack. Of course it was.

Stack comes up to the both of you. He still looks just as sharp as last week, but a bit looser too; like maybe he had a bit more than just whiskey and blues tonight. Well whatever it was he hid it well, and glanced at you without really paying you much mind. Then he looked back at Sammie.

"I need you for something, boy" he mutters to Sammie and walks away, giving him one last glance to make sure he follows.

“Well it’s real nice meeting you, miss.” Sammie mutters almost disappointed

“I’ll find you later, swear on it.” he whispers before slipping away with Stack

And you stand there a bit disappointed too, but he swore he'd find you later. Then Louisa pops up back out of nowhere, and she’s grinning hard “what I tell you?! That preacher boy’s got his eyes all over you.” She says excited

“He’s just being polite, Louisa.” You mutter back quieter but can’t help smiling a bit

She rolls her eyes and grabs your shoulders "He gonna show you the time of your life girl. You hear how he play?"

“Yeah, so what?” you mutter a bit confused.

Louisa leans in closer “Means he’s good with his hands, girl. Maybe even his mouth…” she whispered softly to you before walking off giggling to herself.

And you're just left there stunned. And a bit excited again...

Chapter Text

You just kept dancing to those blues for a little while on your own and forgetting everything else.

You forget your mama’s voice.

You forget the way you had to sneak out.

You even forget him.

It’s just you and the blues now, slow and rhythmic, your dress swaying gentle around your legs. You could almost picture how your mama looked like in this dress, how pretty she must’ve been when she met your daddy that night in the juke, and why he left before you were even born… 

But you get pulled out of those thoughts quickly as you hear something that catches your ear instead. And it’s not the music. 

It’s voices. Low and sharp, near the entrance.

You don’t mean to listen. But your feet slow all the same, your body drifting just close enough to the edge of the room where the music don’t quite drown things out.

Three figures stand there, half lit by the glow of the outside lantern.

It’s the Smokestack twins, and Cornbread, posted up by the door, looking like they’re ready to start a fight.

But there’s a fourth man too.

And he don’t look like he exactly belong...

He stood just outside the barn doors, not stepping in, and not quite stepping away either. A white man, dressed plain in a white shirt and suspenders, and a banjo slung in his hands. His posture’s polite, almost too polite… but there’s something off in the way he holds himself, like he’s trying to be something he ain’t… 

“Evenin’” the man says, his voice smooth. “Heard y’all got somethin’ goin’ on tonight. Thought I might join ya.”

One of the twins, Stack, you think, tilts his head  looking the man over slowly. “You play?”  he motions to the man’s banjo

The man nods, offering a small smile. “Ain’t here to cause no trouble. Just music, same as the rest.”

Smoke lets out a quiet breath beside him, almost amused at the absurdity of it all. His eyes don’t leave the man. “Funny place you picked, then.”

The man shrugs, easy. “Music’s, music, ain’t it?”

For a moment, nobody says anything.

Then the man lifts his banjo, fingers to the strings.

He plays.

It’s quick. Just a little something light, “pick poor robin clean” It’s good. You can hear that much. Like it’s clean and practiced.

Stack’s mouth twitches, just slightly. Like he might almost smile, bobbing his head along slightly to the catchy tune.

But Smoke don’t move.

Don’t even blink.

He watches the man the whole time, his expression turning hard and even more suspicious.

Then the tune ends.

Stack exhales through his nose. “You can play.”

“Told you,” the man says, lowering the banjo again. “Just lookin’ to be part of the evenin’.”

Smoke steps forward then, just close enough that it comes off as threatening.

“Lemme ask you somethin’,” he says, voice calm in a way that don’t feel kind.

“You Klan?”

The word lands heavy and accusatory.

The man stiffens, just for a second like it shocked him.

Then he lets out a short breath, almost offended, even his eyes widen. “Sir!… I believe in equality and music. Just came here to play, spend some money and have a good time. 

But the thick silence hung anyway 

“This cause I’m…” The man said softer with realization as he touches his pale skin.

“Alright” he mutters nodding but still not backing away

The man looks past them, just for a moment, into the barn, at the people dancing, the light, the liveliness of it.

Then back again to the three men crowding the entrance. 

And Smoke’s eyes never leave the man. He stares at him long and hard.

Then without even giving it a second through, Smoke whips out his pistol pointing it at the man. Because sometimes words aren't enough to get the message through. 

“Oh you don’t need to do that sir.” The man lifts his hands in surrender.

“I’ll be on my way, but I’m gonna walk real slow… Just in case y’all change your mind.”

Then shifts the banjo back against his shoulder, adjusting it. “Y’all have yourselves a good evenin’.”

There’s something in the way he says it, that’s not quite a threat but comes out odd. Not the kind of tone a man who just almost got shot would be talkin’ like. 

And walks off into the dark, his shape swallowed up whole by the night.

And nobody moves for a second after he’s gone.

Then Cornbread mutters something low you can’t catch. Stack exhales, running a hand down his face. Smoke just keeps staring out into the dark a moment longer, like he ain’t convinced it’s really over.

You don’t realize how still you’ve been until the music shifts again, trying to bring you back to reality. But a strange feeling lingers inside of you. Like this was an odd encounter, and it sure didn’t feel like an accident. 

“Hey there, said I’d be back.” 

That same deep voice comes from right behind you.

You turn.

And there he is.

Sammie.

He’s sanding closer than before, and he looks at you, in a way that makes your pulse quicken.

You glance back toward the door, but the moment’s already gone, swallowed up by music and dancing.

“Who was that?” you ask, quieter now.

Sammie follows your gaze, just for a second. Then looks back at you.

“Probably somebody who don’t belong, don’t worry my cousins took care of it.” he says.

You nod, though something in you don’t quite settle with that answer.

Before you can think on it too long, he reaches for your hand again, the same way he did before and finally takes it. 

“Come on,” he says.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you… For leaving earlier.”

You just smile, almost forgetting about what happened outside as you let him lead you into a back room. 

He closes the door behind you. And you look around the room, it’s a small room, storage place maybe?... with a table pushed up against the wall.

“What we doin’ in here? Music’s back out there…” you say softly, a bit confused and nervous in a good way. 

“I know…” he says low as he takes his hat off “But I promised you a good time.” 

“You want me to show you?” he says softer as he steps closer to you inside the already crammed room.

 The space felt too tight, and so did the feeling you had in your gut. It was different this time though, not like before. No.. This was the kind of feeling you might get late at night when you’re in bed and your hand starts wandering… 

“What kind of good time?” You muster out trying to still sound confident

“Why don’t you lie back on that table, and I’ll show you.” he says with that charming smile that already made you weak in the knees. 

“Alright.” you mutter, trying not to sound nervous as hell as you lie down on the table. Sammie came to stand right between your legs, keeping his eyes on you the entire time as he slowly hiked up your dress. 

“Just like ice cream” he muttered to himself like he was psyching himself up to do it or something 

“Huh?” You muttered confused as you sat up a bit

“Nothin. Nothing just lie back down. Promise it’ll feel good.” he muttered as he focused on you again. 

And you listen as you lie back again. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest now, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

Sammie’s fingers finally reached your panties, and he touched you through them, just feeling you up and down with his fingers. Then he pulled them down, and off your ankles. 

And before you could even take another breath or say something to break the anticipation, you felt his tongue on your clit, moving in slow motions. The sensation almost made you scream. 

He took his time with you, licking you slowly as if you were some kind of dessert. So you just closed you eyes and let yourself feel.

 He let his tongue find its way inside you as he used his thumb to keep a steady pressure against your clit, and you couldn’t help but let out a moan at the sensation. Your hips moved against his face as he kept licking you and sliding his fingers up and down your clit. 

You felt like your whole body was on fire, like you were close to the edge of something you never felt before. 

And then it just stopped. 

He lifted his head from between your thighs with that same charming smile “Did that feel good, baby?”

You were confused for a moment but then just nodded. “Yeah… that felt nice.” you mutter 

Then Sammie just draped your dress back over your legs. 

Was that it?!!! You thought there would be more to it…

Not that it wasn’t good, but not as good as you’d imagine it to be. Not like the way Louisa had described it once “feels like you're floating” you didn’t feel like that. Not one bit 

And before you knew it, he was leading you back out into the main room, and disappearing off somewhere again. 

You thought nothing of it as you focused on readjusting your dress until you lifted your head to search for him again.

Then you spotted him. Sammie was now chatting up Pearline, the singer. Probably feeding her the same sweet words he used on you, before he led her to the same backroom he had taken you to just minutes ago. And wasn’t she married??!!!

You didn’t know whether to be mad, hurt or both. You thought you had maybe met your forever man. Guess not. 

Then your mama's words rang out in your ears again like a warning that stuck too late “men like dogs” and dogs they were, you thought to yourself frustrated, and on the verge of crying as you pushed through the crowd of people and finally made your way outside.

Still upset by the fact you had been practically led on by a preacher boy of all things… You didn’t even hear Cornbread call out after you.  

"Where you going missy?" Cornbread asked a bit concerned seeing you in your upset state.

"Don’t worry none. I just need some air after all that dancin." You say softer trying to keep yourself together, your fingers clutching at the edges of your dress

And you kept walking till you saw a man. 

That same white man, the Smokestack twins had turned away from entering the juke earlier. 

Then he turned, locking eyes with you, and offered a smile. The kind you couldn’t rip your eyes away from, even if you tried.

And THAT of all things…despite the rough night, made your stomach flip.

Chapter Text

The man straightens up a bit as you keep walking down the path, and you were hoping to just ignore him and go past; but his eyes never left you. Like he’s been waiting out here for something or someone… and maybe he has.

“Well now,” he says, his voice easy, smooth as warm honey. “Ain’t often I see someone walkin’ away from a place like that so early.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your first instinct is to turn around. Go back, or go home.

Anywhere else but here...

But something tugs at you to stay. It’s like you couldn’t help it.

“I ain’t stayin’” you say, your voice quieter than you mean it to be.

“So I see.” He steps a little closer, careful, like he knows better than to get too close right now. The banjo hangs easy at his side again, catching a bit of silver moonlight. “Trouble inside?”

You shake your head, too quick. “Ain’t your business.”

He smiles at that. Not offended. Not pressed. Just… patient.

“Fair enough,” he says. “Still… don’t take much to see when someone’s carryin’ somethin’ heavy.”

You don’t answer.

But your silence don’t send him off.

Instead, he tilts his head just slightly, studying you; not the way Sammie did, not like he was seeing through you, but like he’s putting something together piece by piece.

“Tell you what,” he says after a moment. “I play a little somethin’ for you. No charge. Just to lighten the mood.”

You blink a bit confused and weary, because you knew nothin’ in life was ever truly free. “Why would you do that?”

He shrugs and gives you a cheerful smile. “Because I can. And because you look like you could use it, missy.”

You hesitate for a moment, because your gut is screamin' at you to say no!

But the night’s stretched thin around you, and the hurt you feel still sits fresh in your chest, and there’s something about the way he speaks… It’s all slow, and careful, like he’s got all the time in the world, that makes it hard for you to turn away.

“…Just one,” you finally say.

His smile deepens, just a touch. “That’s all I need.”

He lifts the banjo, his fingers hover over the strings for a second just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve made the right decision to stay.

Then he plays.

The sound is different from the blues you heard inside.

It's sharper somehow, clearer in the open air. Each note cuts clean through the quiet, settling around you.

It’s a simple tune really... Soft and sweet.

Your shoulders loosen just a little and your breath slows.

But then something shifts.

You can’t say when, or how.

Just that the tune don’t sit quite right anymore. There’s a bend in it, a twist where it ought to run straight; like something underneath the melody that don’t belong, like there's something stronger trying to break through.

You frown slightly.

But the man just watches you as he continues to play. Like he’s more interested in what the music’s doing to you than the music itself.

Your skin prickles, and the tune trails off. The last note lingers longer than it should...

Then it fades, and the silence settles back in, heavier now.

You shift your weight, suddenly aware of how alone you are out here. How far the barn feels. How dark the road stretches on behind him...

He lowers the banjo, stepping just a little closer. Not enough to touch. Just enough to feel like he could if he really wanted to.

You take a small step back.

“I should go,” you finally say breaking the tense silence.

He don’t stop you.

Don’t reach for you.

Just... watches...

“Course you should,” he says softly. “Wouldn’t want you out too late.”

You nod, not trusting your voice right now, and turn back toward the path. The barn’s glow flickers faintly behind you, the music now just a little more distant. You take one step, then another; and you can still feel that unsettling tension lingering all around you… But your mind set on putting as much space between you and that man; and everything that feels just a little too strange for tonight.

But before you can take another step, he says your name.

It’s just a whisper, or maybe a trick of your mind; but you SWEAR you heard it.

So you turn…

And he’s closer now, you’re sure of it.

You don’t remember hearing him move. But he ain’t where he was before, it’s almost unnatural. Now he stands just a few steps back, close enough that you can see his face clearer, with the moon catching in his eyes in a way that don’t quite look right.

Your heart feels like it’s gonna jump outta your chest.

“I didn’t tell you my name ” you finally whisper

He tilts his head, just slightly, like he’s considering his next words very carefully.

“Must’ve just heard it in the wind.” he says simply, and flashing you another smile; but this one makes a chill run down your spine.

You should step back, but you don’t.

Because the way he’s looking at you now it ain’t lustful.

It’s knowing…

“You’re upset,” he goes on, voice low, almost gentle. “Thought tonight was gonna be somethin’ else, didn’t you?”

Your breath catches.

“I don’t—”

“You saw him,” he continues, easy as anything. “Inside. Talkin’ close with that singer.”

Pearline.

Your drops at that, the image flashing again before your eyes whether you want it to or not.

He didn’t hear that from you.

You never said her name neither.

Your stomach tightens.

“How do you—”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours. It's just as steady as before.

You should run, you dan well know you should.

Your body even tenses like it might bolt.

But your feet stay rooted in place, because beneath the fear, there’s something else.

Something pulling at you to stay. The same thing you felt when you first heard the blues.

“Mmm. I know a lot of things.” He says softer and takes another step closer

Then he leans closer “I also know that little preacher boy don’t know a woman ain’t meant to be licked like dessert."

And he leans in even closer now, to whisper in your ear “Not when she’s supposed to be savored whole.”

And those words make you shiver.

He knows too much… How could he possibly know what happened between you and Sammie?... But for some unknown reason his words don’t scare you off; because the way he said that last part… made your gut feel warm again.

"How do you know all that?" You whisper, not even realizing you could feel his breath right up against your neck

“I can read your mind girl…” he purrs against your neck

His lips ghost just over your throat, and you swear you feel something sharp against it now “Just cause you ain’t never felt it good, don’t mean I don’t know how you like it.”

And you feel the veins beneath your throat already pulsing like crazy, but you also feel a second pulse between you thighs.

"Promise, I'll be real gentle." he murmurs and then lifts his gaze up to yours with a slight red glint in his eyes, for only a split second that you think you imagined it

Then you swallow hard "show me." the words leave your lips without you even thinking.

And he moves fast, almost inhuman. His hands are on your waist before you can even take another breath, as he leans in and his mouth is on yours. He’s not as gentle as he promised, it feels like something hungry now. like he was tasting something he's been waiting on all night.

And it makes you feel like the whole world was spinning. That feeling in your gut and between your legs growing hotter by the second.

His hand finally slides under your dress, finding your panties wet and he pushes a finger up against your clit through the cloth, just enough to make you let out a soft moan.

He breaks the kiss for a second, giving you a satisfied smile as his lips moved down to your neck, and once again you felt something sharp against it. Not like just just teeth… maybe fangs?... but you were too caught up in the moment to care right now.

And so he kept pressing one thick finger against your clit through your panties like he was teasing you, or just warming you up for what’s to come.

“That’s it. Let yourself feel.” he murmurs, his other hand leaving your waist to dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, like he wants to savor you but damn he wants to devour you at the same time.

And before you knew it, you felt the damp grass against your back and him kneeling between your thighs, but it looked nothing like when Sammie did it. No... this was a man yearning. Seeing him like that only made you wetter, and your head spin in anticipation.

His free hand pushes your dress further up your thighs, giving him room to work as he slips you panties aside and inserts a thick finger inside you with a low groan slipping from his lips.
"You're so tight" he says. "You never done something this before.” His words come out as more of a statement than a question, like he already knew the answer.

"Never" you muster out breathless as you felt your pulsing pussy clench around his thick finger. It felt so good, and he was only beginning.

His mouth moves higher now his teeth finally grazing your inner thigh as his finger curls inside you, making you clench around it again and moan. You can feel his hot breath against your clit now , that it made you almost flinch.

His finger leave your pussy for a moment, only to be replaced by his mouth. His tongue flicks over your clit, like he was just tasting you, then he dives deeper. Pushing his tongue inside you, as his hands press firmly against your thighs to hold you open for him.

This time it actually does make you scream from how good it was. But he doesn’t let up. He continues licking you faster and sucks your clit as he pushes his finger back into you. The sensation almost felt like too much as your hands ripped at the damp grass around you, but then finally settled on gripping his hair instead .

“You taste too sweet, girl” he murmured briefly and dived back down to suck and lick you clit in circles, like he just found his favorite meal.

He pushed his finger back into you as well and he just kept pumping it into you a bit faster as he continued to suck your clit. You began to feel your stomach tighten in a way it hadn't before. It almost made you subconsciously try to pull back from his mouth, but he just gripped onto you tighter as he continued to pump his finger into you faster and lick your clit in circles.

And then you felt it, as he pushed his finger into you one more time with the combination of his tongue, it made you let out a strange sound as you felt your body shake. Your pussy pulsing along with your entire body, and you did in fact feel as if you were floating.

He kept sucking and moving his tongue in circles around your clit until you came down from your high and slowly pulled out his finger, licking it clean.

"that's what it's like to be savored." He murmurs with that yearning look still in his eyes, but something underneath it still looked hungry that went beyond lust.

You couldn't even speak yet, only lay there in the damp grass catching your breath, and hear your heart beat wild in your ears.

Then he gently lowers your dress back down and hauls you to your feet.

And he steps back, like he never closed the space between you in the first place, or just made you cum so hard you saw stars.

“Go on,” he adds softly. “Wouldn’t want your mama worryin’.” he mutters

That hits different.

Because the way he says it, he knows her too.
Or at least… he knows enough.

Your breath shakes, and your mind still cloudy with the aftershocks of your orgasm; as you reluctantly take a step back, then another, and another, your eyes never leaving him this time.

Chapter Text

You stumble back home with your shoes in one hand, still feeling buzzed and strange from the hell of a night you had. Half of you felt good from your encounter with the strange man outside the juke, and the other half still felt a bit hurt from how you saw Sammie talking to Pearline.

All in all, your thoughts were a complete mess and you just wanted to go to bed.

The house is dark and quiet when you reach it.

Not just quiet dark in that heavy, waiting kind of way, like it’s been holding its breath for you. The night clings to your skin, to your dress, to your thoughts that won’t settle no matter how hard you try to shake them loose.

Your hand trembles just a little as you reach for the door.

You tell yourself Mama’s asleep… That you made it back clean, same as you left. So you ease the screen door open, slow and careful, stepping inside while holding your breath.

Then floor creaks.

You internally curse yourself as you hope it wasn’t loud enough.

But then as soon as you thought you were in the clear…

“You took your time.”

your Mama’s voice cuts through the silence

And your heart drops straight clean through your ass if it could.

So you let out a shuddering breath, and slowly turn.

Mama is sitting in her armchair, still wearing her nightgown, with a lit candle slowly burning out on the coffee table beside her. It’s obvious she’s been waiting a long time…

But she don’t look angry, that’s the worst part.

You take a deep breath “Mama, I didn’t mean to–” you start

Mama just stays silent with a look like she was gonna scold you, but then she saw your dress… Her face softened at the sight of it. Like she could see right through you and the kind of night you’ve had.

Mama sighs “Come here, baby.” she says softer now. In that tone that she used to use when you were little

And you go to her without hesitation, like the weight of the night is finally catching up to you.

When you finally hug her, your throat is tight and your chest is aching with something you don[t know how to explain.

“I’m sorry Mama” you say choked “I should’ve listened to you–”

“Hush now” Mama whispers as she pulls you in tighter, and she cradles the back of your head the same way she used to when you were small.

And you finally broke. Your face pressed into her shoulder, and your tears soaking through Mama’s nightgown. It all finally catches up to you… The sneaking out, the music, Sammie with Pearline, him… the strange man you met outside that knew too much and made you feel things like never before… the way everything felt just a little wrong and weird tonight beneath the pretty parts of it…

“I thought–” you start, your voice weak “I thought it was gonna be…”

But Mama just hushes you and strokes your hair gently. Just slow and steady. “I know what you thought, baby.”

“I thought he was–” your voice breaks a bit. “But then he wasn’t… after.. he went off talkin’ to her and I just left and–”

You ramble incoherently as Mama just holds you close “Mhmm” she murmurs knowingly. “Man don’t have to do much to make a girl think he’s hers.” she says softly

That makes you pull back a bit, just enough to look at her with your tear stained face “you knew?”

Mama just gives you a soft knowing look “I been young before, girl.”

And you just let out a shaky breath. Mama looks you over again, like she’s looking for anything else wrong. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” she asks softer with that same worry in her eyes.

You pause to think. Think of Sammie.. He had hurt you only emotionally. So you shake your head
But then you also think of the strange man you met outside. The way he looked at you, the way he knew things he shouldn’t. And the way he had you on your back in the damp grass breathing heavy.
A chill slips through you.

“...No” you say softly, though it don’t feel like the whole truth.

Mama just watches your expression a second longer, like she knows you're lying. But she won’t press.

Instead, she leans back a little, with her hand still resting on your arm. “That place…” she says quieter now. “Ain’t all what it seems to be. Never is”

You nod but glance back down at your dress “you used to go.” your words come out softer than expected.

She nods “only once.”

“Was it like that?” you ask as you wipe the drying tears from your face.

And Mama’s eyes just drift past you for a moment, like she’s looking at something that aint in the room no more.

“It was…” she says softly. “Felt like the whole world openin’ up. Like you could step clean outta your life and into somethin’ better.”

You lift your head. “What happened?”

Her expression shifts into something sadder.

“Same night I met your daddy.”

The words settle quiet between you. You knew this. It was the only thing you could think about for a long time. A story you never fully heard, or dared to ask about. Till now.

“What was he like?” you ask.

Mama pauses thinking. “He could play,” she says. “Not like the ones you heard tonight. He was different. Had a special kind of tune about him. Handsome too.”

There’s a faint smile there, fragile as glass. “I thought he was my forever,” she adds.

Your chest tightens at the words. “He weren’t?” you mutter, though you already knew the answer.

Her gaze returns to you, steady now. “Some folks shine real bright at night,” she says. “But come mornin’… they gone.”

You swallow. “And he just left?” you say softly the words barely leaving your mouth.

“Before you was born.” she says quieter “Didn’t see him after that night. Think he had dreams too big for this life. We just weren't part of it.”

The room feels smaller again. Quieter too.

You look down, your fingers curling into the fabric of the dress. “I’m sorry.”

Mama’s eyes snap back to your face as she reaches out, lifting your chin just enough to meet her eyes. “Don’t you ever say sorry” she mutters. “You ain’t him. And you ain’t me neither. You get to choose better if you listen.”

You nod, though your thoughts are already drifting. Back to the road, back to the dark, back to him.

The one who didn’t belong…

Your mama looks at you one last time, then sighs soft. “Go on to bed,” she says. “You had enough of the night.”

You don’t argue, and just head to your room shutting the door behind you.

You change in deafening silence, just folding the dress careful before setting it aside, like it might still hold something of what it used to be. And reach for your nightgown. But then you realize something. You weren’t wearing your underwear. Fuck. You must’ve lost it in the grass when you were with that strange man.

But that was the least of your worries right now. You were too tired to think about it.
So you just slip on your nightgown and get under your covers. You let out a breath as the house settles around you once more, like the night was finally over.
But sleep doesn’t come easy to you. Your mind keeps turning… Mama’s words, Sammie’s face… And then him. The way he said your name, the way he knew, the way he made your legs shake and see stars…

Just thinking back to it, you could feel your thighs clench together again as if you could still feel his tongue on you… your hand drifting lower and reaching beneath your nightgown to find yourself wet again. You slowly run your fingers up and down your soaking pussy finding your clit as you quietly moan. You keep making sounds, imagining it were him touching you. But your voice is missing something.

And suddenly your eyes snap open with a realization.

After all that had gone down tonight… you realized.

You didn’t even know his name.

And somehow… that felt worse than everything else.

Chapter Text

That night and for the next three days you started dreaming of him.

And not just dreaming of him, but feeling every bit of him too. It didn’t feel phantom neither... It felt just as real as that night outside the juke.

At first, you tell yourself it’s nothing; but you felt yourself looking forward to your dreams. And that should have frightened you more than it did.

Waking in the morning no longer came as comfort either. It came more as an interruption. A pale, unwelcoming thing that slipped through the cracks of your curtains and laid itself across your face trying to wake you from a world you didn’t want to leave. And you didn’t wake all at once anymore. It was always gradual now. First your body, stiff beneath the covers, still feeling his hands and lips on you, then your breath uneven and shallow, until your eyes open and your thoughts get dragged back into reality. And finally… the absence that settled in your body the moment you realized he wasn’t there.

Not in the room, not beside you, not behind you. Just gone. Like he had never been. But your body didn’t believe that. Your skin still felt him all around you. Only a kind of quiet emptiness remained as you sat up in your bed and ran a hand over your face. Something that made you feel completely foolish for even thinking otherwise. It was just another dream.

Still… The feeling of him all over you didn’t leave for a long time after.

You reluctantly get out of bed, dressing; and move through the day like it was just something to get through. Your chores went half done, your answers came slower and half thought out when Mama spoke to you. Your thoughts kept wandering back to him, and how strange and surreal everything seemed to feel since that night. How real your dreams felt, how you still didn’t even know his name. He was just a stranger you told yourself. But you still felt as if he had never truly left you since that night.

The evening came quicker today as you found yourself sat by the window, watching the light fade from the sky, and your fingers curled in your lap as your thoughts wandered again. You realized you were beginning to anticipate the night, and you didn’t try to deny it anymore.

Then your Mama called out to you as she came into the room. “You feelin’ alright?” she asked slightly concerned, like she could see right through you.

“Just tired, mama.” you say softly back to her with a faint smile.

Mama’s gaze just lingered on you, searching your face like she was trying to find something she’d lost there. But whatever she saw, or didn’t see, she let it go.

“Go on then,” she said after a moment. “Get your rest.”

You just nod and head off to your room.

You lie on your narrow bed, the springs pressing up through the thin mattress and you stare at the ceiling . Outside, the Mississippi night hums as always, the cicadas buzzing in the dark, frogs calling from the ditch. It all feels ordinary. It all feels like it always has.

But you sigh, the world feels a little too quiet tonight. So you close your eyes...

And you run a hand up your arm feeling the goosebumps already forming on your skin as you only shut your eyes tighter, trying to so desperately imagine it were him touching you instead. Your breaths grew a bit heavier as you slid your hand past the neckline of your nightgown and cupped your breast, brushing your thumb over a nipple. You felt it stiffen under your touch as you moved your other hand lower underneath your night gown, finding yourself already wet from the sensation.

You still kept your eyes closed and let out a shuddering breath as you slowly moved your fingers up and down your sensitive pussy and circle your clit. You could hear your breathing getting even more ragged; and the slight wet sounds of your fingers moving around your pulsing clit. You tried to steady yourself as your other hand moved away from your breast to grasp at the sheets, as your fingers kept drawing slow movements around your clit.

But you just couldn’t finish…

So you reluctantly drew your fingers away from your pussy with a sigh. It just didn’t feel that good anymore. Not when you did it to yourself. You were still chasing that same high you got nearly a week back.

So you just close your eyes and hope you dream of him again. Maybe that would satiate you. Just enough… For tonight…

You finally felt sleep drifting over you. And the next thing you knew you were standing beneath trees you didn’t recognize; tall, pale… Magnolia maybe… as soft petals that shook in the wind fell onto you from a sky that had no stars. The air felt cool, wrong for the summer, and smelled faintly of freshly fallen rain. Your feet were still bare as you look down at yourself. You were still in your nightgown. Everything around you felt so real; but you knew it was just a dream.

So you just keep walking further through the trees and damp grass, till you finally see him; and your breath stops. He’s leaned up against one of the trees, just watching you. Like he’s just… waiting. Like that night.

And it felt like something invisible was drawing you closer to him with every step you took. Though you knew deep down like you should’ve stayed where you were. Every part of you that still belonged to the waking world knew that. Like Mama’s voice in your head, faint but persistent, whispering somewhere deep in your mind.

Some folks shine real bright at night…

But standing there, with him looking at you like that… Like that night outside of the juke… It didn’t feel like danger… Your feet started to move before your thoughts could even catch up.
And you were finally standing only inches apart, as you look up at him. And you could see his face clear as day. The faint red glint in his eyes that seemed to fade in and out, that same charming smile that made you weak in the knees…

“You ain’t real,” you finally whisper. Though even your words lacked a real kind of conviction.

His head tilted, just slightly. “Ain’t I?”

Like he was asking for you to decide.

“S’just a dream.” you whisper back, still looking up at him.

And up close, there was something else about him… Something you hadn’t fully noticed before.
Not just the way he looked at you… But the way he didn’t seem to breathe the same way you did, the way his stillness wasn’t natural, like it wasn’t human. But maybe it's all just in your head. This was only just a dream… Right?...

His gaze drifted over you, with a kind of hunger he was trying to hide.

“Yet you keep comin’ back, lass. Every night.” he murmured.

And his words made your throat tighten.

“So do you…” you finally muster out.

“Mhm. It’s cause your special, lass. I like that pretty mind…” he said so softly as he reached out and brushed a stand of hair from your face.

But it was like his words had a deeper meaning you couldn’t understand yet… He had said that night that he could read your mind… and now he liked it?,,, you were so confused. But before you could say anything else he touched you again.

His hand drifted over your bare arm slowly, just like you had done to yourself before you fell asleep.

“Doesn’t feel the same anymore, does it?” he says softer as he leans closer to you. Like he knew everything about you. Everything you did and felt.

And you started to feel yourself leaning closer to him. It’s like your body knew what it craved most.

“No… it doesn’t” you whisper back confessing, because there was no use hiding anything from him anymore. “Still don’t know your name.” you continue, and look up at him again. Feeling the heat rise in your body as his hand travels up to the neckline of your nightgown and stops.

Then he just leans in close to your ear. “Not yet.” he whispers so tenderly it makes your heart stop.

“Why?” you whisper back breathless and a bit frustrated, because it had been the one thing you longed to know. It had been the one thing keeping you fully from him in a way.

And he let his hand slip down to your waist to pull you in a bit closer, like he could sense the slight frustration within you. “Because,” he said softly, “names got a way of bindin’ things.”

You felt all the air leave your lungs. “Bindin’?” you whisper softly as if it were taboo

He pulled back slightly just so he could look you in the eyes. His gaze felt so strong and magnetic, that you couldn’t look away even if you really wanted to.

“Aye, bindin’ and you ain’t decided yet,” he continued, “whether you want that.”

A chill ran down your spine, because he wasn’t wrong. You hadn’t decided anything. You weren’t even sure you could. The only thing you knew is that you wanted him. Needed him… In ways you couldn’t even rationally explain.

So you just pressed closer into him, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “I just know I need you.” you whisper, as you felt his breath back up against your neck again.

“I know, Lass.” he muttered against your neck as he gently kissed it in a way that made your whole body shudder. “I know..” he continued

One of his hands moved down from your hip and found your thigh, just below your nightgown. You felt your entire body start to heat up again at his touch. Your thighs almost instinctively clenching as he began to move his fingers higher; and his breath also growing heavier against your neck.

“I need you too.” he mutters breathlessly against your neck as his fingers finally find your pussy and he feels it pulse beneath his fingers. He pressed up a finger sliding it between your slick folds and then pushing it inside of you. And you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan at the sensation.

You felt your sensitive pussy tighten around his finger as he added a second one inside you. And he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace that nearly drove you crazy, as he pressed your bodies a little closer together. His hips were pressed into the side of your thigh and you could feel how hard he had gotten through his pants.

You nearly gasped at the sensation, as you tried to reach down and feel him, but his free hand grasped at your wrist.

“No, not yet lass.” He muttered roughly against your neck as he reluctantly withdrew his fingers from you. And you couldn’t understand why. You just kept pressing up against him.

“Please…” you plead with him, already missing the sensation within you only growing stronger, your pussy still wet and aching.

“You don’t understand...” he whispers to you as he gently strokes your hair back and then leans into your ear again. “Wake up.”

And before you could say anything or grasp him tighter, everything was suddenly gone Again. You found yourself slowly waking in that same way you had for days now. The reluctant way you were dragged back to reality. Except it was still dark out. And this time you found yourself not only clutching at your sheets; but in your right hand was that same pair of underwear you thought you had lost that night outside the juke.

It made you sit up and throw the underwear across the room.

“What the fuck?!” you muster out quietly as you feel your heart start to race. Half from fear and half from a subconscious excitement of finally knowing that maybe these nights weren’t just dreams. That maybe he hadn’t ever truly left.

And maybe he’d come back.