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wheresarizona · 1 month ago

Text

but he’s the one I want

summary: All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch.

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound.

pairing: DBF!Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller/College Student f!reader (no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate)

word count: 11.5k+

a/n: Alexa, play “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. I don’t know where this came from (daddy issues), but I hope you enjoy it! Reader is freshly 21 in my head, Joel is 35 (it’s months before his birthday), and Tommy is 29. Let me know what you think! Big shoutout to @devineconjuring for going on this journey with me and betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Main Masterlist

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s a Friday night; the sky is dark, but the porch light is on. You hug your jacket a little closer to your body to stave off the chill in the air as you wait outside the front door for someone to answer it. A masculine voice calls out, "Comin’!" Footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as they head your way.

Seconds later, the door is cracked open, and you’re met with the home’s owner, Joel Miller. Just the sight of him in his jeans and navy blue t-shirt has your heart rate picking up in speed, the man looking as handsome as ever.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you.

"Hey," he greets. "What are you doin' here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

University of Houston—go, Cougars!

You smile. "Three-day weekend—I have Monday off. I thought I'd surprise my dad since it's his birthday."

The confused look doesn’t disappear. "I coulda sworn he told me they were goin' to Vegas to celebrate a few days ago." ‘They’ being your father, stepmother, and your teenage half-brother.

“Well, I guess it slipped his mind to tell me they were going out of town. He must be getting forgetful in his old age.”

The relationship you have with your father is… complicated. It’s not bad by any means—you get along and love each other. He just wasn’t very present when you were growing up—he lived in Austin while you were with your mom in Houston, only seeing him a few times per year. Now that you have a car and your mom moved out of state last year with her new husband, you occasionally made the three-hour drive to your dad’s to visit and do your laundry free of charge. It was also where you now stayed on your breaks from school.

Joel opens the door a little wider and crosses his arms over his chest, your eyes moving from his face to admire the broadness in his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms. Having his full attention on you makes the nerves in your belly flutter around like a bunch of butterflies were let loose.

“He’s not much older than me,” Joel says. His eyebrow lifts. “Are you callin’ me old?”

The man in question happens to be one of your father’s best friends—or so you’ve been told. In all of the visits to your dad’s growing up, you could count the number of times you saw Joel on one hand. Over the past year that you’ve been coming to Austin regularly, you’ve had much more interaction with him, which has led to you developing a little bit of a crush. Who can blame you, though? He’s gorgeous—the chocolate-colored eyes, the hair that looks so soft, that perfect nose, and those kissable lips.

“If the shoe fits,” you reply with a shrug and a smile.

“Kids these days,” Joel grumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Did you come by just to call me old?” he asks.

“Oh, no. I was expecting at least one person to be at my dad’s, so I didn’t bother bringing my house key. I’m here to see if you possibly have a spare I could borrow—I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.”

Maybe he’d give it to you now…

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.”

Hot and a sweetheart—how is he single? Is he single?

You frown, feeling annoyed that you drove all this way to Austin for no reason. You should’ve called ahead, but that was your mistake, assuming your family would stay in town for your father’s birthday. “This was a waste of gas,” you muse. “Love that for me. Well, it looks like I’m heading home, or maybe I’ll get a cheap motel room. Thanks anyway, Joel. Have a nice rest of your night!” You do a little wave at him.

You start to turn, but stop when he says, “Wait,” and you face him again. He opens the door wider. “It’s too late for you to be drivin’ all that way, and there’s no reason you should pay for a motel when I’ve got a guest room you can stay in. You can get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow mornin’ when the sun’s shinin’.”

Again, a sweetheart—why hasn’t anyone snatched him up? Or have they?

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He finally offers you a friendly smile and moves to open the door all the way. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was feelin’ lonely anyway with Sarah gone at a sleepover. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t my brother.”

Lonely? Nice to have some company? That sounds pretty single to you. Your night just got a lot more interesting. “Thank you so much! I’ll do my best to be better company than your brother.”

With that, you make your way inside, toeing off your shoes next to a pair of his work boots.

“That won’t be too hard,” Joel says as he shuts the door.

You stop in the entryway because you’re not quite sure where you should be going since you've never actually been inside his house. You only know where he lives because your father once asked you to drop something off here.

“Let me get your coat and bag.” You hand him your small purse, and he moves behind you, helping as you shrug off the long jacket you’re wearing, which he hangs up on a nearby coat hook with your bag. “Oh.” He stops in his tracks, and you look at him, seeing his widened eyes staring at your body. “Were you plannin’ on goin’ out tonight?”

You glance down at your outfit, and you can understand why he’d make that assumption at the sight of the cute little black dress you’re wearing—it only reaches mid-thigh and has a V-neckline to show off your breasts.

“Not going out—it’s laundry day. I do my laundry when I come to Austin, and this was literally the last clean thing I had.” Your eyes lift to see his glued to your chest, and you think that’s an interesting development. “I have spare clothes I keep at my dad’s that I planned on changing into.”

It’s the truth, and you’re a little thankful this was your last clean outfit. You can only imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been coming over here in a ratty old T-shirt, granny panties, and your Spongebob Squarepants pajama pants.

He clears his throat and looks away. A rosy blush appears on his cheeks as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I can put my jacket back on,” you tell him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“No, no.” He meets your gaze, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s fine—do you need to use my washer and dryer?”

“You’re already being nice, letting me stay over. I can wash my clothes at the laundromat when I get home.”

“It’s really no big deal.”

“Thank you, but I’m good.”

“Okay.” His hands go in his pockets, and he seems to get very interested in the short console table against the wall, staring at the contents lying atop it—a stack of unopened mail and what you assume are his keys and wallet.

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted your evening?”

“Oh—” He looks at you again. “—I was watchin’ a movie. Would you like to join me?”

You smile. “Sure—lead the way.”

He takes you to the living room, where a movie is paused on the television, and lets you know you can sit anywhere. Your choices are one of two armchairs and a maroon leather sofa, and you choose the sofa while he heads for the kitchen.

“Would ya like a beer?” he calls out on his way to the other room. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond because a second later, he’s back at the doorway to the living room with a confused expression again. “Wait, are you old enough to drink…?”

The question makes you smile. “Yes, Joel. I’m old enough to drink.”

“Legally…?”

You giggle. “Yes. I can legally drink. You wanna card me?”

“No.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Beer?”

“Sounds great.”

“Okay.” He nods.

As you sit on the couch waiting, you become very aware of the situation you’re in. You’ve spoken to Joel one-on-one a handful of times over the last year, but it always happened at a barbecue or a holiday party—places where there were other people around—you’ve never been alone with Joel. This is new territory, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect, especially considering how he was staring at your chest.

Would you fuck him if given the chance? Yes, zero hesitation. Do you think you have a chance with him? Maybe, and that thrills you. Just two things are working against you: your age and the fact he’s your father’s best friend. Those are two hurdles you’re not entirely sure how to get over, but you’re definitely game to try.

Your conversations were always friendly in the past, and you’re proud to say you’ve made him laugh a few times. You think you could possibly charm him. What you know for sure is he’ll need to be very aware that you’re interested; otherwise, he won’t even fathom trying anything with you—thank god you’re wearing this dress. Nerves are swirling in your tummy at what could happen tonight, and you’re eager to see where things go.

Joel returns with two open bottles of beer, handing you one, and you thank him as he takes a seat right next to you. He leans forward to grab the remote and hits play before sitting back and taking a drink.

He’s so close to you that you get a whiff of his cologne—it has a spiciness to it and some citrusy notes that, when combined, smell amazing. It makes you think he took a shower when he got home from work today—and, suddenly remembering he’s a contractor, you imagine him shirtless and sweaty while using a hammer. The thought causes your mouth to go dry, so you lift your bottle to your lips for a sip, focusing on the TV.

It’s easy to figure out what he’s watching when you see Josh Hartnett in clothes from the 1940s.

“Pearl Harbor?” you ask, now holding your drink on your lap, picking at the label with your fingernail.

“Yeah.” His head turns your way, his beer resting on his thigh. “Have you seen it?”

Meeting his eyes, you answer, “Oh, yeah.”

He frowns. “Because it’s a girly movie?”

“Um, kinda? The guys are pretty easy on the eyes, and the story is interesting. I wouldn't say it’s super girly. Sure, it’s a romance, but there’s so much action and drama about the war in it.”

“The back of the DVD said nothin’ about it bein’ a romance.”

“Are you enjoying it, at least?” you ask.

He sighs and looks back at the television. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then enjoy it! If anyone asks what we watched, I’ll tell them Die Hard.” You lightly pat his thigh closest to you, feeling the muscles tense under your palm.

His gaze returns to you. “You’ve seen Die Hard?”

“Yes. A few times.”

Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie.

His upper body slightly turns your way, his arm going behind you on the couch. The closeness and the attention he’s giving you make your skin heat.

“I want you to settle somethin’ my brother Tommy and I disagree on—have you met Tommy?”

“Once.” At a barbecue. He didn’t catch your attention like Joel did. “What am I settling?”

“Do you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

“What…?”

“Tommy is fuckin’ convinced that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and I say it’s just another action flick. A good one, but definitely not a Christmas movie.”

It takes you a second to process what he asked.

“I mean,” you start, “it takes place on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party, and I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle that John McClane happened to be there to save the day. So, yeah, it’s totally a Christmas movie.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me. Just ‘cause it takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie.”

You point the neck of your beer at him. “You forgot John McClane being a Christmas miracle. Makes sense to me that it’s a Christmas movie.”

He takes a deep breath. “So, are you tellin’ me that—what the fuck is that movie called?” His eyes leave you as he thinks, trying to remember the name. “Lethal Weapon!” He looks at you again. “So, you’re tellin’ me that Lethal Weapon would also be a Christmas movie? Have you seen that one?”

Yep, with your father.

“I have, and yeah, it’s a Christmas movie. You’ve got drug dealers using a Christmas tree business as a front, Christmas is mentioned all throughout, they use a bunch of Christmas songs, and it ends at Christmas dinner. Absolutely a Christmas movie.”

“Say you’re messin’ with me, darlin’. You know what a Christmas movie is, right?

“Yeah, you’ve got the heavy hitters—It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol—then those stop-motion ones that are delightful. I’d put Die Hard and Lethal Weapon in the same category as Home Alone.”

“Why the hell do you think Home Alone is a Christmas movie?”

“It’s set during the holiday season, and there’s a ton of Christmas imagery and music. Plus, you’ve got Kevin going on a similar journey as the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life where, in the end, he realizes how much he loves and needs his family—sounds pretty Christmas-y to me.”

His jaw clenches, and it’s seconds before he inhales deeply and looks back at the TV.

“Son of a bitch,” he sighs, shaking his head. “They’re fuckin’ Christmas movies.” He takes a long drink of his beer.

You grin. “They are indeed,” you reply and pat his thigh again.

His bottle lowers, and he looks over at you. “Even though you somehow made a dumbass like Tommy make sense, you’re definitely better company than him. He’d never let me live this down.”

He’s visibly relaxed, and you have, too. The fact he’s enjoying you being there has calmed your nerves, and you’re having a great time talking to him. Plus, he’s nice to look at.

“Then it’ll be our secret,” you say. “Like how we’re totally watching Die Hard right now, and not—” Your eyes go to the TV, and they widen. “—the one sex scene in Pearl Harbor.” It’s nothing too risque and honestly kind of lame.

Joel looks, too. “They’re just rollin’ around on the ground…”

“It’s PG-13, Joel. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a movie where they can only say fuck once, and titties are prohibited.”

His head turns your way. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, and when your eyes land on his, you find that he’s smiling—your heart skips a beat.

“A good something or a bad something?”

“A good somethin’.”

You share his expression. “You’re something else, too.”

“A good somethin’ or a bad somethin’?”

“A very good something.”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, his attention returns to the movie. Joel clears his throat, then chugs the rest of his beer, leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table.

When he sits back, his arm is still behind you on the top of the couch, and he scoots the tiniest bit your way to have your bodies touching.

It’s clear that there’s a shift to the energy in the room, and the tension becomes palpable—he likes you, and you think there’s a possibility he more than likes you with how close he is. The thought has your heart pounding, and you’re unsure what to do next. You’ve only been with boys your own age, and Joel is so much older and more experienced.

The panic has you blurting out, “Are you seeing anyone?” Then, backpedaling, “Not that it’s any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer.”

He looks at you, and you keep staring at the TV, almost wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m nosy.”

He huffs in amusement. “You only wanna know ‘cause you’re nosy?”

“That’s what I said.”

“No other reason?”

“Can’t think of any.”

“Okay—no, I’m not seein’ anyone. What about you? You got a boy back in Houston worryin’ about you?”

“Nope.”

“Really?” The genuine surprise in his voice has your head turning to see the matching expression.

“What’s so shocking about that?”

He frowns. “I beg your pardon, darlin’. It just doesn’t make much sense that someone as pretty and fun as you doesn’t have a line of boys waitin’ their turn to take you out.”

Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again.

“Not really.” You shrug. “Plus, the guys my age usually only want sex but aren’t very, um, giving, if you know what I mean.”

Now he looks grumpy. “Selfish boys,” he grumbles, and it makes you smile.

“So, not an issue with someone older like you. Good to know.” You squeeze his thigh and keep speaking so he can’t reply, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you single?”

For some reason, he can’t look at you now, focusing on your hand. He reaches across his body to grab yours with his larger one, staring at your fingers. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his thumb rubbing against each of your dark blue-painted fingernails.

“Women don’t particularly like that Sarah is the most important person in my life and my top priority…”

“But she’s your daughter, she should be your top priority.”

“That’s the logic, but they want me all to themselves and don’t like sharing.”

“Joel?”

His face lifts to meet your gaze.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.”

He smiles. “I guess I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve given up on datin’. It’s just a waste of time.”

“That is such a shame.”

His dark eyes get even darker. “You’re trouble.”

“Why am I trouble?”

His eyebrow arches. “Your daddy would kill me.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second as you take in the statement—he’s into you, he’s really into you. Now, what are you going to do?

“Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask and move to put your beer on the table. When you sit back, you cuddle a little closer into his side. “You were worried about me driving home in the dark, so you offered me your guest room—we watched Die Hard, then turned in for the night. You’re a stand-up guy for keeping your friend’s daughter safe.”

His eyes move from yours to your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face—his palm is so big his fingertips almost reach the back of your head. He starts leaning in, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought that he’s going to kiss you, and you stop breathing when his lips are only a hair’s breadth away from yours.

And then he pauses.

“Tell me why you really came here tonight,” he rasps.

That confuses you, your brows pulling together, and you sit back to see his face. “I did? I needed to see if you had a spare key to my dad’s house.”

His eyes are on yours. “Bullshit—there’s no way this just happened to be the last outfit you had.” He looks directly at your tits.

“It is if you wait super last minute to do your laundry, and I told you, I have other clothes at my dad’s. Why do you think I came over here?”

His gaze goes back to yours. “With that dress you’re wearin’ and how you keep lookin’ at me, for a lot more than needin’ a key.”

“You thought I came over here to seduce you…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Wow.” You gently pat his cheek. “You think I’m way bolder than I actually am—me coming here and the outfit was not premeditated.” You shake your head.

His eyes round, and you’d think he was burned by how quickly his hand leaves you and how he moves away a little to put space between you. “Fuck, have I been readin’ this wrong?”

You scoot to have yourself against him again. “The assumption I came here specifically to seduce you was very wrong. But you’re right that I definitely want you to fuck me, Joel.”

“Shit,” he breathes out and scrubs a palm over his face. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

Turning his way, you rub your hand along his jeans-covered thigh. “No, I’m not,” you tell him. “Stop thinking, and kiss me.”

His hand lowers. “Not thinkin’ is gonna get me killed.”

“Not thinking is going to get you a blow job and pussy.” You press your palm between his legs over where you can feel he’s already hardening. “Hell, I’ll sweeten the deal—you can come anywhere you want.”

His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you smile. His reaction makes you brave.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll go back to watching the movie and pretend nothing happened. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and we’ll go as far as you’re willing to go.” Your hand moves up to hold his cheek, and it’s a good sign when he leans into your touch as you stare into his eyes. “But I’m going to make myself crystal clear, Joel. I want you—badly. You’re beyond sexy, and the fact you’re older and have a lot more experience than me is a big turn-on. I’d love to know what good sex is like for once and maybe have you teach me some things.” You shrug your shoulder. “It’s up to you, though. Just know I’m more than willing.”

This kiss is unlike any you’ve experienced before. You’re used to overeager boys practically shoving their tongues down your throat the first chance they get, yet here’s Joel claiming your lips—you can feel his every want and his desire for you with how thoroughly he kisses you. The soft pillow of his mouth moves with yours, his scent filling your nose—hints of the beer he drank and his spicy cologne imprinting this moment in your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head goes dizzy from the arousal igniting in your belly.

Just one kiss and you know you’re ruined for anyone else.

His arms go around you, and he mouths at your chin. “Come here,” he says against your skin. “Get in my lap.”

You do as you’re told, bunching up the bottom of your dress at your waist and moving to straddle his thighs. His hands go under your clothes to grab your ass, and he’s so surprised to feel bare skin he leans back with the confused expression you’re becoming intimately familiar with.

“You really didn’t come over just to fuck me?” he asks. His palms wander, and you know he’s discovered your thong when he hooks a thumb under its stretchy waistband—they were the last clean pair of underwear you had.

“I really didn’t.” You’re curious about something. “But if I had, what are the chances that I would’ve succeeded…?”

“With this dress and a little convincin’? Pretty good.”

You smile. “Really?”

“Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and smart. I know this is a bad idea, and it’ll probably bite me in the ass later, but I’m so fuckin’ lonely, and you’re just too damn temptin’ to pass up.”

The truth is clear in his eyes and makes you kiss him—your fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head, finding it softer than you thought it’d be. It starts off slow and tender, just lips to lips, until Joel deepens it, the tip of his tongue making it past your lower lip. Hearing that he’s lonely tugs at your heart, and you want to do everything you can to make that loneliness disappear. Things start to heat up, and all you can do is follow his lead, moaning as he explores your mouth with his tongue. With his palms on your backside, he helps you rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hard cock beneath his jeans, rubbing your clit just right to fan the flames growing in your core.

When you finally need to come up for air, his hand grips your chin to turn your head as you pant, Joel kissing and nipping at your skin from the base of your neck up—tingles wash down your spine when he nibbles on your jaw. He gently bites your earlobe, and you gasp when his hot breath tickles your ear.

He huskily whispers into it, “You want me?” His hand fondles your breast.

“Yes.”

“I can touch you?”

“Anywhere.”

“I need you to be a good girl and tell me when you do and don’t like things—understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he purrs.

The way those two words make your cunt clench has you moaning, ”Fuck.”

He easily unzips the back of your dress, tugging the garment up and over your head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. You’re sitting astride his lap, the dark pools of his eyes taking in your mostly naked body, his big hands massaging your bra-covered breasts. It’s surprising that being under his gaze, you don’t immediately feel self-conscious, and you think that has to do with how he’s looking at you—the desire and appreciation clear as he admires you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nodding towards what he’s touching.

“Yes.”

He sits up straighter, and it’s quick work for him to get your bra off, it landing on top of your dress. He’s focused on your tits, holding them in his palms, weighing them. He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and the sudden shock of pleasure has your breath catching in your throat, your fingers grabbing handfuls of his shirt for something to hold onto. When he grazes his teeth over the stiff bud, your entire body shivers—your panties have a wet spot from your pussy leaking your arousal for him. He gives your other breast the same attention, leaving your skin shiny from spit when he comes off of it with a wet pop to look at you.

“Lie down on the couch, baby.” He pats the empty seat next to him. “Your head all the way at the other end.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You scramble out of his lap, the couch’s leather creaking as you crawl over to where he instructed and sit back on your elbows to see what’s happening. Joel grunts as he gets up to stand, watching in interest when he squeezes the noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans. His arm goes behind his head to grab his shirt, pulling it up and off of his body to bare his torso.

At seeing so much of his golden skin, your jaw goes slack—his freckled chest is so broad, tapering down to his trim waist, his abs showing a little bit of muscle definition you think is from doing manual labor and not working out. Your eyes fixate on the happy trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Sure could get used to you lookin’ at me like that.”

That has your attention snapping up to his face, where you find him smirking, and you close your mouth.

“Sorry,” you apologize, your eyes darting away from him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. Makes me feel pretty fuckin’ great about the shape I’m in.”

You look at him again. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re in great shape and so hot—you’re really down to fuck me?” You point at yourself.

He kneels on the sofa by your feet, his hand on the back of it to steady himself.

“Darlin’, if I didn’t know your daddy, and you were a stranger I met in a bar, I’d bring you home in a heartbeat. I feel like a real lucky son of a bitch that someone as young and pretty as you has any interest in an old guy like me.” He lifts one of your legs and gently kisses the inside of your ankle, the sweetness of it making you melt a little.

“Oh, I’m very interested in you.”

“Is that so?” he asks and spreads open your legs. He crawls over you, and you lie back, Joel nestling his hips between your thighs for you to feel how hard he is as he dips his head, kissing up the column of your throat—the nerves in your stomach flutter wildly.

“Yes,” you whisper and need to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso to press your palms against the warm skin on his shoulders—his body shudders, a rumbling groan coming from his chest.

You squeak in surprise when his lips are suddenly on yours, kissing you hard.

He takes over all of your senses—he’s all you see, he’s all you feel, he’s all you taste, he’s all you hear, he’s all you smell. It’s him, and him alone—his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his weight on top of you. Your fingers thread into his hair, moaning as he takes over your very world, reveling in this feeling of being wanted.

His lips leave yours, both of you breathing a little heavier. His teeth gently sink into your chin before kissing along the underside of your jaw.

He speaks into your skin, his words muffled, “I’m very interested in you, too. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” His mouth ends up at your ear, and he quietly asks, “Can I eat your pussy?”

“Oh.” The question surprises you. “I’m usually the one who asks. Do you want me to blow you first?” There was always a quid pro quo when it came to oral.

His head lifts to look you in the eye.

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?”

“You’ve been with some truly shitty boys.”

It makes you laugh, and he smiles.

“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply.

“It should always be ladies first—may I?”

What a gentleman.

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” he says and pecks you on the lips.

He doesn’t immediately move off of you, and it catches you off guard. Instead, his mouth blazes a trail, kissing down your body—your neck, your chest, and your belly. This is when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head. Joel is getting up close and personal with your imperfections—your scars, stretch marks, cellulite, all those little details you normally kept hidden in the safety of dark rooms or under shirts when you hooked up with someone. Now, you’re basically naked, the lamp is on, and he can see it all, which makes you feel uneasy.

He kisses just above your belly button, then below it, going lower and lower until he places one last kiss on your panties, over your mound. He sits up on his knees, tracing the lines and curves of your thighs and hips with his large palms while he drinks you in as you lie there—you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, unable to meet his gaze.

The silence is broken when Joel speaks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your eyes seek out his face where you don’t find any deception, but you have to ask, “Really?”

“Really.” He nods. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His attention goes to the apex of your thighs, and the pink of his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as if he’s imagining how you’ll taste. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the visible damp spot on your underwear, his other hand squeezing his cock that’s straining in his jeans.

“I bet you have the prettiest pussy, too,” he says, and gets his fingers under the elastic waistband on your panties, pulling them down and off your legs, the air cool against your now bared skin. He shuffles back a little, then bends forward, spreading your lips open with two fingers as his face hovers over it. You think your heart might beat out of your chest with how fast it’s thudding, your skin feeling so hot. “I fuckin’ knew it, such a pretty pussy,” Joel murmurs. He circles your clit with his thumb, and the pleasure has every muscle in your body tensing and your eyes closing. “You’re gonna taste so good.”

He loudly groans as he drags the flat of his tongue along your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

“Oh, god,” you moan, your body squirming at how good it feels.

Joel has to pin down your hips with an arm across them to keep you still, his face buried in your pussy. He goes straight to the source, lapping at your entrance to taste your arousal while the tip of his perfect nose rubs against your bundle of nerves, his facial hair prickling your skin.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’re fucked.

It’s not even a minute in, and you can already feel your orgasm taking shape low in your belly, the muscles beginning to wind up. If you thought the first kiss ruined you, you know you’re ruined by how eagerly he’s eating you out—who knew this could be so good? You have to wonder how you’ll ever be able to fool around with anyone else when Joel is all you’ll be able to think about or compare it to—this is the only moment doubt invades your mind. You feel like this is all a mistake, but it’s quickly squashed by how unbelievably horny and curious you are.

His mouth lifts, and you whine at its loss. “Gimme a second,” he pants. “I gotta see how tight you are.” That’s when one of his thick fingers presses to your soaked opening, and he slowly starts to push it inside.

The slight stretch makes you gasp his name, your fingers clawing at the sofa’s maroon leather.

“Christ,” Joel says. “You’re squeezin’ me. With how fuckin’ tight you are, I’d think this is your first time.”

You sit back up on your elbows and open your eyes to look at him.

“You just have massive fingers, and it’s been a while.”

His gaze meets yours as he smirks. “Well, I’m gonna loosen you up with my massive fingers, and I think you’ll enjoy it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. His head dips, flicking his tongue side-to-side against your clit when you feel the sudden pressure of his second digit pushing into you—there’s even more of a stretch and the delicious feeling of being full. You fall back on the couch, tangling your fingers into the brown waves of hair on his head, moans falling unbidden from your lips. His digits crook as they pump in and out of you, sliding along your upper wall when they press into something that elicits white-hot pleasure, making you keen and wiggle under the hold he has on your lower half.

Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked.

He’s relentless with his mouth and fingers as you careen toward your end, free-falling in the throes of pleasure. He’s really going to get you off, and you think you might be in love with him. Is that crazy? Falling for the guy you absolutely should not fall for—that you can’t even have any kind of future with—because it’d ruin both of your lives, especially his.

Why does that make you want him more?

You definitely understand now why Eve ate the forbidden fruit—the temptation leads to such sweet gratification when you give in.

He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, and you can hear the wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into your cunt. Your thighs are trembling—you’re so close, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re coming with an unintelligible cry. Your body seizes up, euphoria exploding out from your center, radiating to your fingers and toes. Joel removes his digits, his tongue taking their place to catch every bit of your slick he can get, groaning as he lets no drop go to waste.

You’ve never come so hard, feeling a little floaty as you ride out your high, your chest heaving heavy breaths. With how shaky your arms and legs are, you’d think you were out in the freezing cold.

Joel’s mouth comes off of you and he sits up, rubbing his hands along the outside of your legs.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says. “Was it good?”

“Was it good?” you parrot back at him and push yourself up into a sitting position. “It was more than good, Joel—oh my god, it was amazing.”

The bottom half of his face glistens in the lamplight, his shiny lips turning up in a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You still wanna fuck?”

“I think I will die if you don’t fuck me.”

He chuckles, and that’s all the answer he needs. He’s off the couch instantly, and you watch as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and gets his jeans undone, shoving them and his boxers down his legs so fast it makes you giggle. He’s balancing on one foot, peeling off his sock, and you finally get a good look at his dick—it’s hard and bobbing between his legs, the tip flushed red and shiny from precum, and your eyes round at how big he is.

“Second thoughts?” he asks, taking off his other sock.

Your gaze rises to his, seeing he’s frowning. “No.” You shake your head. “It’s more, ‘I sure hope that thing fits inside me.’”

He crookedly smiles, his chest puffing up a little. “It’ll fit—I promise.” And he has the audacity to wink at you.

Just as quickly as he got off the sofa, he’s getting back on it, kneeling in the space between your spread thighs. His attention is on your pussy, rubbing the tip of himself against your swollen clit and through your wetness. Nerves swirl in your belly, along with arousal, his free hand giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before he’s spitting on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He notches himself at your entrance, and your heart is in your throat as you hold your breath.

“Just relax, baby,” he says. “You can take me.”

He slowly starts feeding his hard length into you, making you gasp when the fat head breaches your slick cunt, your eyes squeezing shut, your fingers digging into the couch’s leather cushions. A groan rumbles from his throat, and you answer with a drawn-out moan as he burrows his thick cock deep inside you, your tight walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. Full doesn’t even begin to describe how stuffed you are—he’s hot inside you, almost searing, and you can feel him pulsing. He bottoms out and goes completely still, his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he rasps. “You okay?” His thumbs stroke circles on your skin.

“Yes.” It comes out as more of a squeak. “I just need a second.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Darlin’, baby, and now sweetheart when his dick is inside you? Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?

He bends at the waist, one hand on the couch holding up his weight while the other massages your breast, his lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the sparks of pleasure going straight to your pussy. Your fingers wind up in his hair; what he’s doing to you has you whimpering at how good it feels and only makes you wetter where you’re joined. He pulls each of your legs up to rest on his ribs while his mouth moves higher, kissing your sternum and up the arch of your neck, sucking on your pulse point and making you squirm underneath him.

His hands end up on either side of your head, his lips leaving behind a wet streak of kisses along the hinge of your jaw to finally ghost over yours—you can feel his breaths and smell your musk. He’s so close it wouldn’t take much more for your mouths to meet.

His nose nudges yours. “Need more time?” he whispers.

Enough has passed that you don’t feel as overwhelmed. You slide your palms up his back to his shoulders.

“No,” you answer just as quietly. “You can move.”

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in as his mouth claims yours, muffling your sounds when he sets up a rhythm of long, hard strokes. You’re gone—all rational thoughts go out the window, and the only thing you can think about is how his cock is moving in and out of you. It’s so distracting you’re having trouble kissing Joel back because your brain keeps screaming, ‘so big, so full, so good.’

You’re feverishly clutching at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving crescent moon imprints and scratches you’re sure will bleed on his golden skin, Joel moaning into your mouth. It surprises you when you feel the familiar tension of another orgasm making itself known deep in your core, the pressure rising with each thrust, the angle of them causing him to slide against spots you never knew existed, and you don’t ever want this to end.

His lips leave yours, pressing his forehead to your cheek. He’s breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he keeps the same pace.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this pussy. Just wanna stay inside it until my dick is all it knows.”

Your legs are quivering, your body is burning up, and you can’t get enough of how fucking good this feels. One time—one time—and you’re addicted, you’re drunk on the pleasure and will do anything—anything—for this to happen again.

“It’s yours,” you gasp. “Oh, god, it’s yours!”

His lips move to your ear, huskily asking, “It’s mine, baby? Your pussy is mine? I’m fuckin’ ya that good?”

You’re so out of it and lost in the lust you start babbling, “Yes, it’s yours—fuck, ruin me,” you whine.

“That’s what you want, for me to ruin your perfect little pussy?”

“Please—make me feel it. Make me ache to have your cock inside me again. Make me yours.”

He growls, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s immediately pulling out, your eyes springing open in time to see him sit up on his knees.

His big hands grab hold of your waist. “Flip,” is all he says, and you find yourself getting manhandled onto your front, Joel tugging you up onto your hands and knees. He wastes no time sheathing himself back inside you, pushing in so deep that your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.

Joel’s hips are flush against your ass, the full length of him seated all the way inside of you—you can’t think, your mouth open in a silent cry. He’s filling you to the absolute brim, and it becomes evident your cup has truly runneth over.

He was right, though. It did fit.

A shuddery breath escapes you. He only allows you a moment to get used to the new fullness before he’s pulling out until just the tip of him remains and snapping his hips forward hard enough it knocks the air from your lungs—this is how you learn what it’s like to really be fucked, and fucked good.

His fingers dig into the skin on your waist, pulling you back as he thrusts forward at a pace that has you lightheaded, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids each time he presses against that heavenly spot inside you.

Warmth grows in your belly, the sounds from the TV overshadowed by the filthy cacophony of skin hitting skin and the audible wetness of his cock working in and out of your used cunt—he’s grunting with each stroke, your moans stuttering from the onslaught.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.

It’s a struggle to gather your thoughts and form a response with how good he’s fucking you.

A palm lands on the side of your ass in a loud smack, the sweet sting causing you to clench around him and whimper.

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he says. “Is this what you wanted?”

All you can gasp out is a single word. “Yes!”

“Am I fuckin’ you good?”

“Yes!”

He’s pounding into you at a near-brutal pace, the fire inside you only getting hotter as each second passes.

“Look at me,” he orders.

It takes everything in you to turn your head and look over your shoulder. Joel is a sight to behold—a flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sweat on his skin making it glisten under the lamp’s light, and his hair sticking wetly to his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed over, his jaw clenched.

He slows, his gaze on yours.

“You wanna be mine?” he asks.

“Yes.”

The moment your answer leaves your lips, he’s blanketing your back, holding himself up with a hand on the couch, the other going under you to palm your breast and tweak your stiff nipple with his fingers.

He lightly bites your earlobe, his facial hair scratching your cheek when he kisses it.

“I’m gonna make you come,” he says through heavy breaths. “Then I’m gonna fuck you full of me—you want that?”

A shiver moves through you, and you gulp.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

His hand smooths down your front over your stomach to between your legs, where he starts circling your clit with two fingers. It’s like a live wire along your spine, electricity sparking in your core—that added to the sensations of his cock splitting you open and pushing in and out of you has you rocketing toward your release.

“You gonna come for me?” His hot breaths fan over your ear. “You gonna let me feel you come all over my cock? Come on, let me have it—come for me.”

Joel’s bent over you, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers deliciously swirling around your throbbing bud as he grunts in your ear with every thrust, all of it driving you higher and higher to your end.

You’re so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you falling over the edge—the muscles in your belly pull tight, your orgasm ripping through you, gasping Joel’s name. He sucks in a breath when your pussy clamps down on him, then loudly groans, continuing to fuck you through your high, and doesn’t stop—his fingers keep up their assault on your clit, and his hips snap into you in quick, short bursts that extend your high. You come, and come, and come to the point your arms give out, and your body shakes and twitches from all of the pleasure coursing through it.

When you think you can’t take any more, relief washes over you that Joel follows suit. With one last thrust, he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside you as he falls forward, his front framing your back, his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. He comes with a dirty, rumbling groan—you feel his dick thicken and pulse, hot spurts of his spend filling you. He grinds his hips, fucking it as deep as it will go, then stills.

The movie’s ending credits are playing, hearing the music and your and Joel’s ragged breaths as you both come down. He’s at the same awkward angle as you, with your hips up and your faces down—his sweaty chest is pressed to your back, your bodies sticking together everywhere they touch. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with how your limbs tremble, you’re not entirely sure you can even move.

You asked him to ruin you, and oh boy, did he deliver—you’re absolutely, positively ruined. It kills you that after whatever this night is, you’ll have to go back to subpar sex with guys who couldn’t find the clit if they were given a map and detailed directions. This is the second time tonight that you fear you’ve made a grave mistake hooking up with Joel, and the post-sex clarity is not helping the situation at all.

What were you thinking?

That’s easy; you weren’t. Or, at the very least, you weren’t thinking with your brain. Your pussy took the lead on this one, and it looks like she’s gotten you into a bit of a situation.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Joel’s arm wraps around your middle, and he turns you two onto your sides, the couch just barely wide enough to fit you both.

“Tha’s better,” Joel slurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. His hand over your stomach feels around until he finds your smaller one, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest—oh, he’s cuddling with you. It’s unexpected and nice. You close your eyes and enjoy this taste of intimacy.

Many minutes pass before he mumbles something you can’t make out.

“I’m sorry,” you start and are immediately embarrassed by how hoarse and scratchy your voice sounds from all the sounds you made tonight. You clear your throat and try again, “I’m sorry—what did you say?”

He turns his face so it’s out of your hair.

“I asked if you wanna stay over,” he says.

You smile. “Are you getting forgetful, Joel? You said I could stay over when I got here.”

“Fuckin’ smartass,” he grumbles, and you giggle. “What I meant was, do you wanna stay in my room? With me,” he clarifies.

“Only if you’re okay that I sleep naked—I’m not wearing my dress to bed.”

“Was kinda hopin’ you’d be naked.” He kisses your shoulder. “But if you’re more comfortable wearin’ somethin’, I can get you one of my t-shirts—it’s no big deal.”

“It baffles me that you’re single.”

“Why?”

“Uh, because you’re incredibly sweet, amazing in bed, a great father, very handsome, hardworking, and just an all-around catch. If I had the opportunity, and you know, there wasn’t the elephant in the room—” The fact he’s much older than you and one of your dad’s best friends. “—I’d date you in a heartbeat. If you ever give dating a shot again, you’re going to make one lucky woman very happy.”

“Fuck,” Joel groans, letting go of your hand to press his palm to his face. “What the hell am I doin’?”

That makes your stomach drop, and you frown—he’s regretting everything, and you can’t blame him. The post-sex clarity is a real bitch sometimes.

“Stressing for no reason,” you reply. You’re pretty sure you can walk, so you get up from the sofa, ignoring how wobbly your legs feel and his come leaking down your thigh. “Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask, looking toward the floor for your clothes. “You let me stay the night ‘cause you were worried about me driving home in the dark.” You carefully bend down to pick up your thong, followed by your bra and dress. “We watched Die Hard,” you continue, straightening to stand. “Then turned in for the night to our respective bedrooms. You’re a real stand-up guy for caring so much about your friend’s daughter’s safety.”

You can’t even look at him, focusing instead on the TV where the Pearl Harbor DVD’s menu is on screen.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.”

“You clearly wish nothing happened, so nothing happened—where’s the bathroom?” You need to clean up, and you’re tempted to just leave altogether.

“Up the stairs, second door on the right—when the hell did I say I wished nothin’ happened?”

“You didn’t have to. Your ‘what the hell am I doin’?’ was enough for me to get it.” You hug your clothes closer to your body. “Anyways, thanks for tonight. I think I’m just gonna use the bathroom and get out of here. I don’t want you to worry, so I’ll stay at that cheap motel by the highway.” The sign said it was twenty-something dollars a night, and you can swing that. You start heading toward the stairs.

“Hey, stop.” You don’t. You keep walking, willing the unshed tears in your eyes not to fall.

Why are you so upset? You’re well aware that this can only be a one-time thing. It was something fun and sexy where you got to fuck the older, unattainable guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. It wasn’t anything serious, and couldn’t be anything serious, because there’s no future for you two together. Not when he’s a good friend of your father’s. That kills any chance of having a relationship with Joel.

What hurts is he regrets it and wishes it never happened—you’re a mistake, and who wants to be someone’s mistake?

His heavy footsteps sound behind you. “Darlin’, stop,” he says again, and you continue ignoring him. Fingers latch around your bicep and lightly tug. “Please, stop for a second. Talk to me.” Finally, you do as he’s requested, standing still in front of the staircase. He turns you to look at him in his big brown eyes, his hands holding your arms.

“I don’t wish nothin’ happened,” he says. “You were talkin’ about how if things were different, you’d date me, but since they are the way they are, you won’t. I was thinkin’ to myself ‘what the hell am I doin’ wishin’ you’d change your mind,’ when I know it’s for the best.”

“Oh—really?”

Hope swells in your chest, butterflies fluttering around in your tummy.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Tell me you want nothin’ more to do with me, and I’ll grab you a towel and some of my clothes so you can wash up and retire to the guest room unless you’re truly set on stayin’ in a motel. In that case, I’ll pay for your room somewhere safer and much nicer, so I know you’ll be okay. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and I’ll take you up to my bedroom so we can shower, either together or separately, whatever you’re comfortable with. Then we can get into my bed where we can talk and figure things out.”

It sounds like he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing, either, and that makes you so happy you let your clothes fall to the floor to throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. Joel groans, his arm sliding behind your back, hugging you closer to him, his other hand cradling your cheek. Suddenly, he’s backing you up until your heels hit the first step, and he guides you to sit on a higher one, Joel kneeling on a lower stair to be at the right height that his hips slot between your thighs when he lays you back. He licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

With how good he made you feel tonight, how wanted, you need more of him. There’s a looming fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to be true—that you’ll never be with him like this again, which makes you desperate for him. Your hand snakes its way between your bodies, taking his half-hard cock into your palm, slowly stroking it—a low rumble comes from the back of Joel’s throat. He gets his hand to the juncture of your thighs, sliding his fingers through the puffy lips of your sex, gathering your arousal and his come on his fingertips to rub at your swollen clit.

“You’re mine,” he says into your lips.

“I’m yours,” you answer.

This is how you end up fucking on the stairs, Joel thrusting into you at a pace that has your toes curled and your fingers gripping his ass—your spine tingles from his mouth exploring your neck, mapping out the spots that make you gasp and moan, and you’re in heaven.

A door slams shut on the other side of the railing, and your eyes fly open.

“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls.

Joel’s hand covers your mouth, and you watch the intruder walk through the dining room to the kitchen without seeing you.

“I brought over pizza so you can stop bein’ a sad and lonely sonofabitch!”

Joel immediately pulls out and gets off you, using his strength to help you flip over. “Upstairs,” he whispers, tapping you on the hip, and you go as quickly and quietly as you can with Joel following.

You make it to the second-story landing, and he grabs your hand, tugging you all the way down the hall into what you know is his bedroom by how it smells like him. He closes the door and locks it before beelining to his dresser, roughly pulling out one drawer from which he grabs a burgundy t-shirt, then another that he gets a pair of stretchy gray sweatpants.

“Is this a dress?!” Is yelled from downstairs. “Do you have a girl over?! Who’d wanna fuck your sorry ass?!”

Surprisingly, the clothes in Joel’s hands are not for him; he shoves them into your arms and ushers you over to his bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” he says, flicking on the light, the fan automatically turning on. “It’s Tommy. Stay in here, and I’ll kick him out.” Obnoxiously loud footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he has to take a deep breath, his eyes to the sky like he’s praying God will smite his brother right this second. “Lord, give me strength,” he breathes.

“Where would you even meet a girl?!” Tommy asks from the hallway. “All you do is work—you never go out.”

Joel pecks you on the lips. “I’ll be right back—stay in here,” he tells you again, and this time, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

There’s banging on the bedroom door, and your ears perk up as you put on the clothes.

“Go home, Tommy,” he says.

“Not until I know who this pretty dress belongs to.”

“Give me that—it’s none of your fuckin’ business. Leave.”

“Come on, Joel—we know the same people. Did you finally give in to Nikki? She’s wanted to go out with you for a long fuckin’ time.”

“No, and it’s still none of your fuckin’ business who I have in the house I pay for. So, get goin’, or I’m gonna make you go.”

“You can be a real dick, Joel. Why are you bein’ so fuckin’ secretive?”

“Do I ask about who you take home from the bar?”

“No, but—”

“Exactly,” Joel interrupts. “I don’t give a fuck what you do in your spare time, and I sure as hell don’t need to tell you what I do in mine, so leave, Tommy—I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“With how fuckin’ grouchy you are, I don’t think you got laid at all—I’m gonna get goin’ ‘cause you clearly need the company of a woman. Bye, mystery woman with the pretty dress hidin’ in Joel’s bathroom!” he yells. “Hopefully you can cheer this fucker up! Enjoy the pizza!”

It goes quiet, and you think Joel left the room, too. You can’t go anywhere, so you decide to take in your surroundings—the bathroom is cleaner than you’d expect from a single man, you have to put the toilet seat down when you pee, and as you’re washing your hands, you notice there’s only one toothbrush in a cup.

You know you shouldn’t snoop, but you pull open the medicine cabinet and find an extra tube of toothpaste, some Tylenol, Ibuprofen, a thing of pain relief cream, then a shelf with a few medicine bottles that intrigues you—prescription pain pills, antidepressants, and heartburn medication. No red flags, but you’re a little worried about how much pain he’s in. You close the cabinet, and soft knocking on the bathroom door makes you jump.

“You can come out,” Joel’s muffled voice says. “He’s gone.”

Walking over to the door, you open it, Joel leaning against the doorframe in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants he must’ve put on before talking to Tommy.

He sighs. “So, that was my brother.”

“Seems nice—if I remember correctly, he’s younger, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That explains how annoying he is.”

He smiles, and an amused huff leaves him. “Yeah, he’s annoyin’ alright.”

“We have the house to ourselves?”

“We do—I walked him out myself.”

You grin. “Wonderful.” You grab a fistful of his shirt. “Because I think you said something about us showering together, and I’d like to do that right now, then go eat pizza—I’ve somehow worked up an appetite,” you tell him and pull him forward; he happily comes your way with a smirk.

“Worked up an appetite, huh?” he asks, his eyes on your mouth.

“Yes. No clue how.”

He closes the distance, his lips almost touching yours, when he replies, “Let me remind you how,” and kisses you.

An hour later, you’re walking down the stairs clean and in your borrowed clothes.

“Can we eat then go to bed?” you ask, through a yawn. “I had classes today, and that long ass drive, plus all the sex. I’m so damn tired.”

Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants.

“I’m fuckin’ tired, too. That sounds good to me.”

The only lights on downstairs are the lamps in the living room. You walk into the dark kitchen, Joel flipping on the light as he follows, and you head for the stove where the pizza is, popping open the box to see it’s pepperoni.

“I’ll grab us some plates,” Joel says, rubbing your upper arms. He kisses the top of your head before stepping over to a cabinet.

Turning around, you’re about to ask Joel where the cups are when the dining room light comes on, Tommy standing by the switch. You gasp in shock; Joel’s immediate reaction is to grab a knife from the knife block and get between you and the unwanted visitor—it takes him a second to recognize it’s his brother.

“Goddammit, Tommy!” Joel shouts and slams the butcher knife onto the countertop. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”

“No,” his brother answers, shaking his head, and he looks a little too amused. “But you sure the hell are! Her?!” He points at you and has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, god, Joel,” he says through his glee and grabs the back of a chair, his other hand on his chest as he chuckles. “Her daddy is gonna kill you—you’re fucked!”

Joel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, perching a palm on his hip. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says. “I’m a dead man walking.”

“You are!” Tommy calms down, and his shit-eating grin annoys you. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I mean, I know what you were thinkin’. I just can’t get over you not only robbin’ the fuckin’ cradle, but bangin’ your best buddy’s daughter. How long has whatever this is—” He gestures at you both. “—been goin’ on?”

“It just happened tonight—I don’t need you lecturin’ me on right and wrong. I know it’s a fucked up situation.”

A fucked up situation? Ouch. The comment has you crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the floor.

“Fucked up is right, and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how you’re gonna get out of it. Her daddy finds out about this, and he’s gonna shoot you deader than dead.”

“I told you I didn’t want you lecturin’ me.”

Tommy puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m not lecturin’. I’m just statin’ the facts. I wanna make sure you know this thing between you two could get you killed. You’ve got a daughter, Joel—what would you do in this situation?”

“Woah,” you interrupt, moving to stand beside Joel—Tommy’s comment about Sarah is a fucking nuke you need to try and hopefully defuse. “First of all, I just want to point out that I am a consenting adult and can fuck whoever I want. Second, I need to set the record straight and say that my dad isn’t going to kill anyone. He’ll be mad as hell if he finds out, but he isn’t going to commit murder because, truth be told, he’s never given a fuck about my life choices. I’d also like to add that this is kinda his fault for not having me visit more often because now Joel and I are pretty much strangers, and this whole thing isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“It’s still pretty bad, honey,” Tommy replies, his attention turning to you, smiling.

“Maybe, but it’s also nobody’s business who I fuck.”

“Sure, but this person you fucked is one of your daddy’s best friends whose—no offense—way too old for you.”

“Why does everyone keep callin’ me old?” Joel grumbles.

Tommy looks at his brother. “‘Cause you are, you old man.” He suddenly looks like he just realized something. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Tommy says. “Joel, are you havin’ a midlife crisis? You’re around the age people have those, right? It’d make sense why you’d risk your life to fuck her.”

“Get out, Tommy,” Joel replies, pointing toward the front door. “I’ve had enough of you.”

His younger brother pouts. “‘Cause I called you old?”

“Out.”

“Fine.” He slowly starts walking toward the hallway that leads to the front door. “I’ll get out of your hair so the two of you can enjoy the rest of your night. Bye!”

The door loudly closes as he leaves.

Well, you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. Between the comment about Sarah and the other things that had been said, you wouldn’t be surprised if Joel ends this. You might as well cut your losses and get it over with to save yourself from more heartbreak.

Your eyes are on the ground, the first tear falling down your cheek. “After all that, I know whatever this is is probably over,” you quietly say. “But is there a chance I can still sleep in your bed with you tonight? And if you’re willing, have you hold me?”

He turns and pulls you into his arms.

“Yeah, you can sleep with me,” he answers and kisses your hair. “But I’m gonna need you to stop.”

You lean back to look at him with watery eyes. “Stop what?”

A sad smile is on his lips. “Jumpin’ to conclusions without talkin’ to me. You’ve already got one foot out the door, and I haven’t even opened it.”

“It’s just everything Tommy said.”

He lightly squeezes your biceps. “Tommy was bein’ a little shit. You were right when you said this isn’t as bad as it sounds, but you gotta be honest with me about somethin’.”

“What?” you ask.

His hands come up to hold your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Are you positive your daddy won’t kill me? I’ve got Sarah to think about, and even though I like you a lot, I’m not gonna risk dyin’ to be happy.”

The sweetest man and the best father.

You think about it for a second, and the sad truth is you can’t imagine your dad killing anyone for you—he doesn’t love you that much. He doesn’t love you to the same degree that Joel loves Sarah. With how easily Joel grabbed a knife to protect you, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d kill for his daughter without hesitation.

“He’ll be pissed off, but he isn’t going to kill you. We also don’t need to tell him anything unless this turns into something. We can keep it to ourselves for now.”

He hums in agreement. “You know, if you wanted, you could start comin’ here to do your laundry...”

You smile. “How will you explain that to Sarah?”

“That I’m helpin’ you out, which is true. Plus, I’ve got the guest room.”

“Uh huh, the guest room that I’ll sleep in?”

“Yes.” He nods.

“Alone?”

“I sleepwalk.”

You snort. “Stop it.” You playfully push his chest. “Sarah is not gonna believe you sleepwalked into the guest room.”

He snatches your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. “Who said anythin’ about Sarah knowin’ I’m in the guest room, or you bein’ in my room for that matter, while she’s sleepin’? There are also nights like tonight she spends with friends.”

“You really want me to hang out here?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have company that isn’t Tommy.”

“I believe that. As long as I’m not a bother, I’ll do my laundry here.”

He smiles. “Not a bother, and you can wash your clothes tomorrow and stay another night. You could even stay over Sunday, too, since you have Monday off—you’re more than welcome.”

You loop your arms around his neck. “Yes, Joel. I will spend my long weekend with you.”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “Good.”

Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #wheresarizona writes #joel miller fanfiction

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bayougraphics4 · 2 years ago

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Best Ever Car Wraps in Houston, TX - https://bayougraphics.com/vehicles-and-fleets/

#Car Wraps Houston TX

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javiercigsrete · 3 months ago

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Bad idea

dbf!joel x f!reader.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

main masterlist

summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!

a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3

The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.

You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.

Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.

But that could never happen.

You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.

You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.

Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.

“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.

But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.

You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.

“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.

“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.

“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.

You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.

This is going to be a long trip.

Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.

“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.

“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.

You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.

“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.

The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.

You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.

Because that's exactly what you do.

It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.

You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.

You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.

The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.

You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.

His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.

You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.

Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.

You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.

“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.

You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.

You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.

“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.

You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”

You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.

You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”

You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.

Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.

You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.

“The hell you doin’?”

You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”

Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.

You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”

His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.

This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.

“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”

You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.

“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.

“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.

“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.

Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.

You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.

The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.

When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.

Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.

You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.

You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.

He stands leaning against the frame in silence as his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.

“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.

“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”

“It’s just us then?”

“Mhm,”

You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.

You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.

Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.

He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.

“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.

He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.

“Please,”

“Please what, darlin’?”

You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”

Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”

You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.

You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.

His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.

You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.

He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.

Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.

“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.

He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.

You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.

You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.

A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.

“y– ha – yes,”

“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.

You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.

“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,”

He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.

You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.

He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.

He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.

“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.

You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.

Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.

The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.

“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.

His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.

You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.

Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.

When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.

He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.

After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.

You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.

“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.

You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.

Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.

#joel x reader #dbf!joel #road trip #smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #i'm literally terrified to share this omg #concert without the concert #happy tlou day and happy birthday to joel #dbf trope has me in a chokehold

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deansbeer · 11 days ago

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★ soup, snuggles, and mr. wiggles // beau arlen.

synopsis. you're sick during a visit to montana, but your dad, comes to the rescue with chicken star soup, snacks, and your old childhood stuffed bear, reminding you that you're never too old to be cared for.

kari yaps. i love my pretty cowboy sheriff sososo much && literally don't have anything written for him + this idea was perfect for beau, because one im an older sister / daughter myself & two my brain was wired up @ 2am ???? n i took that opportunity to write. but i only got halfway & BARELY got to finishing it 2day.

you knew it was a bad idea the second you bit into the chicken sandwich. something about it tasted... off, but you hadn't eaten at all during your flight from houston to montana, and your stomach didn't give you much of a choice. by the time you arrived at the airbnb you rented, you were already feeling the first signs of regret—your stomach twisting uncomfortably, your body heavy with fatigue. you chalked it up to exhaustion from the drive, but when you woke up the next morning, nausea hit you like a freight train.

you'd planned today for weeks—just you and your dad, a father-daughter day he'd been talking about nonstop since you told him you were visiting. he'd even promised emily she'd get her turn after you left because, as he put it, "this one's special. just me and my girl." and now, lying on the couch of your airbnb, wrapped in a blanket, you felt guilt gnawing at you because there was no way you could keep those plans. your stomach rolled again, and you groaned, reaching for your phone to call him.

"hey, sweetheart," he answered on the first ring, his voice bright with excitement. "you ready for me to pick you up? i've got the whole day mapped out—breakfast, a little fishing, and maybe we can stop by that trail you liked last time."

you winced, both at the enthusiasm in his voice and the wave of nausea that hit you. "uh, about that…"

he instantly picked up on your tone. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you said quickly, even though your voice was weak. "i just… i don't think i can make it today. i'm not feeling great."

"not feeling great how?" his voice lost its lightness, replaced by concern.

"it's nothing, dad. probably just something i ate. i just need to rest, that's all."

there was a pause, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "where are you staying again? that little airbnb by the creek?"

"dad, no, you don't have to—"

"i'll be there in twenty," he said firmly, already moving. "and don't even think about arguing with me."

you sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to stop him. "fine. okay, dad."

"what kind of dad would i be if i didn’t take care of my girl when she's sick?" he said, his voice softening. "sit tight, sweetheart. i'll be there soon."

true to his word, twenty minutes later, you heard the familiar rumble of his car pulling into the driveway. you managed to shuffle to the door, opening it just as he walked up, two large grocery bags in his hands and a determined look on his face.

"you look terrible," he said bluntly, though the warmth in his eyes softened the blow. "not that you're not still the prettiest thing i've ever seen."

"thanks, dad," you muttered, stepping aside to let him in. "just what every girl wants to hear."

he set the bags on the counter and turned to you, his hands on his hips. "all right, let's see what we've got here. crackers, ginger ale, that soup you used to love when you were little—chicken and stars, remember that?—and some popsicles, because you'd always ask for those when you were sick. oh, and a heating pad, in case you've got chills."

you felt a lump rise in your throat as you watched him unpack everything, his movements quick and efficient. he was always like this when you were a kid—hands-on, attentive, making sure you had everything you needed even when life got chaotic. and now, standing in your little airbnb kitchen, he looked just the same, though his beard was a little grayer and the lines around his eyes a little deeper.

"dad, you didn't have to do all this," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

he glanced at you, his expression softening. "yeah, i did. you're my kid, darlin'. it doesn't matter if you're five or twenty-five, i'm always gonna take care of you."

you blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall. "i suppose you're right."

he gave you a small smile before turning back to the bags. "and because i know you're gonna get crabby—don't deny it, you've always been a little bear when you're under the weather—I brought backup.” he pulled out a small stuffed bear, its brown fur worn and familiar. "found this guy in one of the storage boxes last week and figured you might need him."

you let out a surprised laugh, reaching for the bear. "oh my god, is this… is this mr. wiggles?"

"the one and only," he said, grinning. "thought he'd been retired, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

you hugged the bear to your chest, shaking your head. "you're ridiculous."

"and you love me for it," he said, nudging your shoulder gently. "now, go lie down. i'll heat up the soup and put on a movie."

you didn't argue, too tired and too grateful to protest. you curled up on the couch again, the blanket pulled snug around you and mr. wiggles tucked under your arm. a few minutes later, your dad appeared with a tray—soup, crackers, and a glass of ginger ale—and set it on the coffee table in front of you.

"all right, what's it gonna be?" he asked, grabbing the remote. "something funny? or one of those sappy movies you always make me watch?"

you smiled faintly. "sappy. but you're not allowed to complain."

"wouldn't dream of it," he said, settling into the recliner next to you. "though if i start crying, you're not allowed to tell anyone."

"deal," you said, your smile widening.

as the movie played, you found yourself relaxing for the first time all day. your dad stayed by your side, occasionally cracking jokes or making comments about the characters, his presence a constant comfort. and even though you felt awful, you couldn't help but feel a little better knowing he was there.

"thanks for coming, dad," you said softly as the credits rolled.

he reached over, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "always, sweetheart. you're stuck with your old man, whether you like it or not."

and in that moment, with the warmth of the blanket, the faint taste of ginger ale on your tongue, and your dad sitting nearby, you realized there was no place you’d rather be.

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carwrapshoustons · 4 months ago

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Give Your Vehicle a New Look with Professional Car Wraps in Houston

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carwrapshouston · 1 year ago

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Custom auto wrapping Houston TX In Blogger

Ready to give your ride a stunning transformation? Look no further than Bayou Graphics! Our custom auto wrapping in Houston, TX is a true game-changer, ensuring that all eyes are on you wherever you drive. Whether you're drawn to the sophisticated gleam of sleek metallics or you have a vision for a vibrant custom design, we've got your unique style covered. Brace yourself for the exciting journey of turning your car into a bona fide masterpiece, and get ready to roll in style with Bayou Graphics!

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clinewrap · 2 years ago

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Car Wrap vs. Paint: The Pros and Cons

Are you considering giving your car a new look? When you want to change the appearance of your vehicle, you have two main options: Car Wrap or paint. But which one is the better choice for you? If you want to know the better option, then read our full article. If you are looking for Car Wraps in Houston, you can contact us at (832)-286-4427.

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xxsp3llb0undxx · 5 months ago

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A Day To Remember

Jasper Hale x Fem!Reader [989+ Words]

Summary: Jasper takes his human mate back to his home state, Texas, for some time away from their families.

Disclaimer: Please do not repost my work to other sites or claim as your own, this is purely written from my imagination and from the help of the franchise. All rights of the main storyline goes to the writers and producers of Twilight.

WARNINGS: FLUFF // JASPER BEING A GENTLEMAN // USE OF Y/N // UNEDITED

Jasper hadn't been back to Texas in almost 200 years, not after everything that had happened. Not after what he had done. But it seemed he couldn't deny the request of his mate when she asked to see the state where he grew up, where he became the man she valued and loved. So he did just that.

Jasper had planned everything secretly, with the help of his sister Alice of course. Packing up the car with all the essential things Y/n might need before getting in the car and driving all the way across town to pick her up.

Driving cross-country wasn't the best thing in the world but Jasper was thankful he didn't need to sleep or eat, otherwise the journey would've taken longer. As Y/n slept peacefully in the passenger seat, Jasper held her hand ever so delicately, tracing soft patterns into her knuckles. To say he loved her would be an understatement, he was infatuated with her. The way her lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed, how her eyes would flutter every so often, the soft rosy pink tint across her cheeks. Jasper felt things for her on a whole other level, it was like he was consumed by her.

By the time they made it to the hotel Alice had booked for the pair, it was midday. The sun hiding away behind thick, grey clouds as rain pitter pattered against the windshield. Jasper gently shook Y/n, careful not to startle her. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times until her vision was no longer blurry. Looking up at Jasper, a small smile tugged at her lips almost instantly. She leaned over the centre console, pecking the blonde vampires lips ever so softly. Jasper let out a quiet hum of content, his hand trailing along the underside of her jaw as he pulled her closer, savouring the taste and feel of her lips before pulling away.

Jasper, being the gentleman he is, got out the car first, holding up his forefinger to Y/n as if telling her to stay there as he rounded the car and opened her door, holding out his hand for her to take. Y/n slipped her hand into Jasper's, slowly getting out the passenger side of the car as Jasper shut the door behind her. His arm wrapping around her waist as he lead her inside the hotel lobby. As they got their room situated, the bellhop took their luggage to bring it up for them, though Jasper insisted he could do it.

The following day, Jasper and Y/n headed out for a little sightseeing trip around Texas, starting in Houston. Jasper took Y/n out for breakfast, telling her all the stories about when he was a young lad running around this specific part of the city. After breakfast, they had gotten back into the car, driving all the way down to Orange County. Y/n was unbeknownst to anything Jasper had planned, the young girl just going along with everything he said or did.

After an hour or so, the car stopped outside Shangri La. A botanical garden and nature centre. The weather hadn't cleared up, still the same gloomy sky as yesterday but Y/n didn't mind, it meant less people being around and Jasper wouldn't get found out for being a vampire.

The pair walked throughout the gardens hand in hand, Y/n pointing out the array of flowers growing all around. Jasper just smiled, watching her ramble on about her favourite flowers with a smitten look on his face. God he loved her, how did he get so lucky. The blonde vampire had lead his mate to a more secluded area, the pond of the blue moon, sitting down on the wooden platform as they looked out at the deep blue water around them.

"It's beautiful.." Y/n breathed out, her voice soft as she spoke. Jasper hummed in return, his topaz eyes glued to her face. "It sure is." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. Jasper gently cupped the side of her face, turning it so she could look at him. His thumb rubbing small circles into the skin of her cheek.

"I want to ask you something, something I've been dying to ask you from the moment I met you.." Y/n looked at Jasper in confusion, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side before she nodded her head, urging her mate to speak. Jasper let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, not like he had lungs that even worked, before he grabbed her hand and held it lightly in his own.

"I have loved you from the moment we met, I knew you were the one I wanted from the very first time I felt every ounce of your emotions swarm my head like a plague. You accepted every part of me, being a vampire, playing a part in a war that took thousands of lives.. you loved me even when I didn't believe I could be loved. I want to spend the rest of our lives together, whether you want to grow old or you would prefer to go through the change, I want to be there for it all. What I'm trying to say is.. will you marry me?"

Silence. Pure silence. Before Y/n threw her arms around Jasper's shoulders as she squealed in happiness. He could feel the joy radiating off her. The raw, unfiltered euphoria coursing through her like a wildfire. Her soft rants of "yes, one thousand times yes" falling from her lips as she hugged the vampire closer, clinging to him like a lifeline. Never in a hundred years has Jasper felt this content, this at peace within himself and it was all down to the girl wrapped tightly within his arms, like armour protecting her from anything and everything.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n

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lila-lou · 2 months ago

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✨Houston - Pt. 2/2✨

Summary: While Jensen was away filming, a hurricane hit and you had to face it alone, burdened by a secret. When Jensen finally returned, relief and fear collided as you shared the news.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST, Fluff

Word Count: 5722

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷

Meanwhile, Jensen sat in the plane, his leg bouncing nervously as he stared out the window. He had barely slept since hearing about the hurricane, his mind consumed with worry about you. The relief he had felt when his flight finally boarded was fleeting—now, all he could think about was getting to you. He needed to see for himself that you were okay, that the house had held up, and that you hadn’t been hurt during the storm.

The flight had seemed to drag on forever, and now, as the taxi slowly made its way through the neighborhood, his stomach churned at the sight before him. Chaos. Pure chaos. The remnants of the storm were everywhere—trees uprooted, power lines down, debris scattered across the streets. The taxi driver struggled to navigate through the mess, constantly having to stop and weave around fallen branches and debris.

Jensen stared out the window, his heart sinking further with every turn. The fire department was out in full force, and neighbors were already outside, doing their best to clean up the damage. But the destruction was impossible to ignore. Several houses looked like they had taken a beating—older homes missing porches, shattered windows, even one house that had its roof torn away by the storm. Cars had been flipped or smashed by falling trees, some nearly unrecognizable.

Jensen clenched his jaw as the car crept closer to home, his heart pounding harder with every piece of damage he saw. This was exactly what he had feared, what had kept him up all night. The thought of you being in the middle of this, alone, terrified, made him sick with guilt. He had brushed it off as “just a little rain”, and now he was driving through what looked like a war zone.

But as the taxi turned down your street, his eyes went straight to your house. Relief washed over him as he saw it still standing, mostly untouched, aside from some debris scattered across the yard. The house, which had been renovated just a couple of years ago, looked sturdy—massive stilts holding it high above the ground, windows intact, the roof still in place. You had insisted on the renovations, on making the house as secure as possible. He had thought it was a bit overboard at the time, but now, looking at the destruction around him, he was beyond grateful that you had been so insistent.

The taxi came to a stop just down the street, unable to drive any closer due to the debris blocking the way. Jensen paid the driver quickly and practically jumped out of the car, his feet crunching on the broken branches and debris as he hurried toward the house. His heart was racing as he climbed the steps to the porch, which, to his relief, was still intact, though bits of leaves and broken tree branches littered it.

“Please be okay”, he whispered to himself, fumbling for his keys with shaking hands. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, the silence inside the house overwhelming after the storm he had driven through.

“Babe?”, he called out, his voice tight with worry. The house was still kinda dark, the power clearly not restored yet, but it was eerily quiet compared to the chaos outside. He dropped his bags by the door and immediately started toward the guest room where he hoped you had taken refuge.

When he pushed open the door, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, curled up on the bed, wrapped in the blanket, fast asleep. The sight of you, safe and sound, made his chest tighten with emotion. Relief hit him hard, so much so that his knees almost buckled.

Jensen walked slowly toward the bed, careful not to wake you just yet. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, the exhaustion written all over your face. You had been through hell last night, and he hadn’t been there for you. The guilt settled in deep, but right now, all that mattered was that you were okay.

He knelt down beside the bed, reaching out to gently brush a lock of hair from your face. His fingers were trembling slightly, but he just needed to touch you, to reassure himself that you were real, that you were safe.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he watched you sleep. He had been so wrong. So, so wrong. And now, seeing you like this—vulnerable, curled up in the middle of the storm’s aftermath—he promised himself he would never brush off your fears again.

For now, he was just grateful that you were here, safe.

Jensen had just begun to stand, moving as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb you after the hellish night you’d just had. But as he shifted to leave, your eyes suddenly snapped open, wide and full of alarm. You blinked quickly, disoriented, your heart instantly racing as you jolted upright, still tangled in the blanket. For a moment, you didn’t know where you were, the remnants of the storm and the hours of restless fear swirling in your mind.

“Jensen?”. Your voice was barely above a whisper, laced with confusion and exhaustion. The sight of him standing there, in your room, felt surreal—like a dream you weren’t sure you believed yet.

Jensen froze, his eyes locking onto yours, and you could see the mixture of relief and guilt swimming in his gaze. He knelt back down beside the bed, his hand immediately reaching out to touch your arm, his thumb brushing your skin in gentle reassurance.

“Hey, it’s me”, he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to wake you”.

You blinked again, tears instantly welling in your eyes as everything from the past night rushed back to you. The storm, the fear, the feeling of being so utterly alone… and now, seeing him here, in front of you, after all of it—it was too much. Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, pulling him close, needing to feel the solid warmth of him. Your body trembled against his, and you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you into the kind of embrace that made everything else melt away.

"I missed you”, you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed your face into his shoulder. The warmth of him, the familiarity, the safety—everything you had been craving through the terrifying hours of the storm—was finally here. You held him tighter, your arms wrapped around his neck, refusing to let go as if he might disappear again.

Jensen’s arms wrapped around you securely, his body shifting as he slowly sat down on the floor with you, cradling you in his lap. His legs stretched out underneath you as he leaned back against the wall, pulling you closer to him. He ran a hand gently through your hair, his other arm firmly around your waist, holding you as if he could shield you from everything you had been through.

“I missed you too”, he murmured softly against your hair. His voice was thick with emotion, the weight of his guilt still lingering in his words. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here”.

You shook your head, not ready to let go of him or the comfort of this moment. “It’s okay… you’re here now”, you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremor of relief and lingering fear was still there.

He held you tighter, his breath warm against the top of your head.

You stayed like that for quite a while, wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace. His hand moved rhythmically through your hair, and you let yourself relax into him, feeling the tightness in your chest finally start to ease. It was the first time in hours that you felt safe, like you could finally breathe.

But even though the storm outside had passed, the one inside you hadn’t. The weight of what you needed to tell him pressed heavily on your heart, making it harder to fully sink into the comfort of his arms. You wanted to stay like this forever, safe and protected, but you knew there was something else, something you could no longer keep to yourself.

Eventually, Jensen shifted, pulling back gently, just enough to look at you. His eyes searched your face, concern still flickering in the depths of his gaze, though his hands remained firmly on your waist, as if grounding you. “It’s okay now”, he whispered softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “It’s over. You’re safe”.

His words were meant to comfort, but they stirred something deeper within you. It wasn’t over—not for you. Your lips trembled as you met his gaze, your heart pounding against your ribs. The tears that had been threatening to spill over since you’d woken up began to gather in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from the relief of surviving the storm.

Jensen’s brow furrowed as he noticed the fresh tears welling up. He cupped your face, his thumb gently wiping at the corner of your eye. “Hey… it’s okay”, he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “It’s over now. I’m here”.

But it wasn’t just about the storm. You knew that, and deep down, so did he. You could see it in his eyes—the way he studied you, the way he seemed to sense that something else was wrong. The weight of your secret had become too heavy to bear, and the fear that had consumed you last night was nothing compared to the fear you felt now, sitting here in his arms, knowing what you had to say.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper as the tears began to fall freely. “It’s not… it’s not just the storm, Jensen”.

His eyes widened slightly, his expression softening with concern as he leaned in closer. “What is it, sweetheart? Talk to me”, he urged gently, his voice steady and reassuring. He stroked your hair, his touch calm, but you could feel the tension building in him, too. He knew there was more.

Your heart raced as you searched for the words, feeling the enormity of what you were about to tell him weigh heavily in the air between you. It had been gnawing at you for weeks, and you had tried so hard to push it down, to pretend it could wait. But now, after everything, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was now or never.

Your heart pounded even more in your chest as you tried to gather the courage to say the words. But instead, what came out was a trembling whisper: “Something happened”.

The moment the words left your lips, you felt Jensen tense. His eyes, which had been filled with concern and love, suddenly shifted, guarded now, as if a wall had gone up between you. His hands, once resting so protectively on your waist, slipped away slowly. He stared at you, his expression unreadable, but you could see the flicker of something darker behind his eyes—fear, uncertainty, maybe even suspicion.

“What do you mean, ‘something happened’?”, he asked quietly, his voice tight, controlled. There was a noticeable shift in his tone, and it made your stomach churn. He had pulled back, both physically and emotionally, and you could sense the guardedness, the way his body language changed, as if bracing for something painful.

You blinked in confusion, watching as his entire demeanor shifted in front of you. His hands, which had moments ago been cradling you so tenderly, were now resting on his knees, clenched into loose fists. His eyes were still on you, but they held a different kind of intensity now, as if he were preparing himself for the worst.

You opened your mouth to explain, to say the words that had been weighing on your heart, but Jensen spoke first, his voice suddenly low and careful. “What happened, exactly?”. He sounded like he was struggling to keep his emotions in check, and it took you a moment to realize why.

He was thinking something else entirely—something you hadn’t intended to imply.

The realization hit you like a freight train, and your heart sank. You saw the way he was looking at you now, the way his body had stiffened, and it became clear. He was thinking of something worse. He was thinking that maybe… you had done something to betray him while he was gone.

His guarded posture, the flicker of hurt in his eyes—it all made sense now. This wasn’t just about you being scared; it was deeper than that. He’d been through this before, hadn’t he? The memory of Danneel—his ex—flashing in your mind, of him telling you once, in a quiet and vulnerable moment, that she had said those exact same words to him once: “Something happened”. And what had followed had shattered him.

“Jensen, no”, you whispered, suddenly panicking at the thought of him believing that. “It’s not what you think. It’s not—”.

Jensen’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant, his face hardening as he pulled back further, the tension in his body palpable. His eyes darkened with a mix of hurt and anger, and when he spoke again, his voice was no longer soft or gentle. It was sharp, raw, like a wound reopening.

“The fuck it’s not what I think?!”, he snapped, his voice loud now, echoing through the room in a way that made you flinch. The anger was clear, but it was the pain in his voice that hit you hardest. “You say ‘something happened’ and then expect me not to think the worst? You think I don’t remember those words, don’t remember what they meant the last time someone said them to me?”.

His words cut deep, and you could see how much it was costing him to hold back. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight, his body vibrating with the effort to control his emotions. The hurt in his eyes was so raw, so deep, it nearly broke you.

“No, Jensen, please”, you pleaded, your voice trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. “It’s not what you think. I swear, I would never—”.

But he wasn’t listening. Not fully. He was lost in his own pain, his own fear. “You have any idea what it’s like to hear those words again? After everything I went through with Danneel?”. His voice cracked, just slightly, but it was enough to show the depth of the wound this had opened. “She looked me in the eyes and said, ‘something happened,’ and it tore my life apart. I can’t—”.

You reached for him, desperate to make him understand, to make him see that this was different. “Jensen, please, just listen to me”.

He pulled back, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair, pacing now, his emotions too much to keep bottled inside. “How can I just listen when the same damn words are coming out of your mouth? How can I not think—”. He stopped himself, his breath ragged, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to calm down, but you could see the storm inside him raging just as fiercely as the one you had endured the night before.

“I would never do that to you”, you said, your voice small but firm, tears spilling over now as you stood frozen in place, watching the man you loved unravel in front of you. “Jensen, please… it’s not what you think”.

His pacing slowed, but his expression was still dark, his eyes full of guarded hurt. “Then what the fuck is it, huh? If it’s not what I think, fucking tell me!".

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Your heart raced as you realized how quickly things had spiraled out of control. You had meant to tell him the truth, to relieve yourself of the secret that had been weighing you down, but now everything felt so much heavier.

You took a deep, shaky breath, your hands trembling as you finally said the words you’d been too afraid to say. “I’m pregnant”.

Jensen stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock. The anger that had been radiating off him seemed to falter, replaced with disbelief, confusion. He stared at you, unblinking, as if he hadn’t fully processed the words you had just spoken.

“What?”.

His voice was quiet now, almost a whisper, as he looked at you like he didn’t quite understand.

“I’m… pregnant”, you repeated, tears streaming down your face, your voice breaking with the weight of everything that had built up inside you. “That’s what I meant when I said something happened”.

Jensen stood frozen, his face a mixture of shock and confusion. The anger drained from him in an instant, leaving behind only disbelief. He ran a hand over his face, taking a few steps back as if trying to wrap his head around it.

“You’re… pregnant?”.

His voice was barely audible, his eyes searching yours for confirmation, for understanding.

You nodded, your eyes falling to the floor as tears streamed down your cheeks. The weight of everything you’d been holding in felt unbearable now. You could barely bring yourself to look at him, terrified of what his reaction would be. Jensen stood there, staring at you in stunned silence, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he took in the enormity of your words.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. You watched as his expression shifted—his eyes distant, his mind racing with a million thoughts. You could feel the tension rolling off him, the stress of the last weeks, the sleepless night, the whirlwind of emotions from just minutes ago. All of it seemed to come crashing down on him at once.

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

The sound of the door slamming echoed through the house, so loud and forceful that it made you jump. You heard the sharp crack as the doorframe splintered slightly under the impact, the sound tearing through the silence that followed. It was a small but audible reminder of just how broken everything felt in that moment.

You stood frozen, staring at the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The tears that had already been falling now came in a flood, uncontrollable, as the reality of what had just happened sunk in. He had walked out. He didn’t say a word.

Your legs felt weak, and you slowly sank to the floor, pressing your back against the wall as sobs wracked your body. The weight of the silence was unbearable, each second stretching into what felt like hours. You couldn’t shake the image of his face—his eyes wide with shock and disbelief, his body tense with so much emotion that he had seemed ready to explode.

And then he had just left.

Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before your eyes. Was this it? Was this the moment everything fell apart? The thought twisted painfully in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find some small comfort, but there was none. You were terrified. You had always known that this news would be difficult, that it might hurt him, but you never imagined he’d react like this. Not like this.

Minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity, and with every tick of the clock, the fear inside you grew.

You wondered where he had gone. If he would come back. If he was okay. Your heart ached with worry for him, but you were also hurt—crushed, really—by the way he had left. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to fix this or if you even could.

You wiped your tear-streaked face with shaky hands, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to regain some semblance of control over your emotions. You didn’t know how long you sat there, curled up on the floor, waiting. Waiting for him to come back. Waiting for answers.

Waiting for anything.

The minutes stretched on until the faint sound of a door opening in the distance jolted you from your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly wiped your face again, pushing yourself up off the floor. You held your breath, listening for movement, for any sign of him coming back, but all you heard was the soft creak of the floorboards.

A few seconds later, Jensen appeared in the doorway, his expression still unreadable, but his anger seemed to have faded, replaced by something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place. His shoulders were slumped, and there was a weariness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension hung thick between you, but there was also an unspoken understanding that everything had changed. He stood there, his hands stuffed into his pockets, staring at the floor as if the weight of what had just happened was too much to bear.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice hoarse and strained. “I needed some air”, he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the ground. “I just… I didn’t know what to say”.

You nodded, though the gesture felt hollow. “I get it”, you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I wasn’t expecting this either. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you”.

Jensen slowly lifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and confusion. He took a step forward, and for a moment, you thought he might turn away again, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, watching you, the raw emotion between you so palpable it was almost suffocating.

“I’m sorry”, he said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that. I just… I couldn’t think. I didn’t know how to process it”.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall again. “It’s okay”, you whispered, though the ache in your chest told you otherwise. “I didn’t mean to drop it on you like that. I just didn’t know how else to say it”.

He nodded slowly, his hands still in his pockets, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. “I just…”. His voice faltered, and he let out a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do with this. I wasn’t ready for this”.

“I know”, you said softly, taking a tentative step toward him. “Neither was I”.

He looked up at you then, his eyes meeting yours, and for the first time since the door had slammed, there was a softness there—an understanding. He didn’t look angry anymore, just lost, like he was trying to make sense of everything.

Jensen let out a slow breath, his body visibly relaxing as he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his hand gently brushing against your arm, his touch tentative but comforting.

“I don’t know how to be okay with this”, he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. His hand, now resting lightly on your arm, trembled slightly. You could see the conflict swirling in his eyes—pain, confusion, and something deeper that tugged at your heart. He took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice broke, exposing the vulnerability beneath his carefully controlled exterior. “I told you… I never wanted another baby”.

The words hung between you like a heavy cloud, and your chest tightened as you absorbed them, even though you had known this was how he felt.

“I know”, you whispered, the tears pooling in your eyes again, your voice shaking. “I know that, Jensen. That’s why I was so scared to tell you”.

He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, as if trying to process everything all over again. “It’s just… I’ve been through this already. I thought I was in a place where… where that was behind me. And now…”. He trailed off, his eyes searching yours, filled with uncertainty. “I don’t know if I can do this again”.

The honesty in his voice was like a punch to the gut, but it wasn’t unexpected. You had always known how he felt about this, and now you could see just how deeply rooted that fear was in him. He wasn’t just worried about the practicalities of having another baby—he was afraid of how it would change your lives, afraid of the unknown, afraid of losing the stability you had both worked so hard to build.

“I don’t want to force this on you”, you said softly, the tears finally spilling over as you looked down, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “I never wanted to hurt you with this. But I didn’t want to hide it from you, either”.

Jensen reached out then, his fingers lifting your chin gently, his touch warm against your skin. “You’re not forcing anything on me”, he said, his voice soft but firm. “I just… I need time. This is big. And it’s not just about me. It’s about us. About you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this”.

His words gave you a small sense of relief, but the fear still clung to you, heavy and suffocating. “What if you can’t do this?”, you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it. The fear of losing him, of this driving a wedge between you, was almost unbearable. “What if you don’t want me anymore?”.

Jensen’s face softened, and for the first time since he had stormed out of the room, you saw the love and care in his eyes. He cupped your face with both hands now, brushing away the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. “I’m not saying I don’t want you. I would never say this. I’m saying I don’t know how to wrap my head around this… yet”.

The vulnerability in his voice echoed your own, and for a moment, the raw honesty between you felt like a lifeline. You had both been thrown into something you hadn’t expected, something neither of you had planned for, but in this moment, it wasn’t about blame or anger.

“I’m scared too”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this. But I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want this to drive us apart”.

Jensen’s expression softened further, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes as he held you tightly. “I don’t want to lose you either”, he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll figure this out. I just… I need time to get there. To wrap my head around it”.

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face, but for the first time since you’d told him, you felt a small flicker of hope.

“We’ll figure it out”, Jensen whispered again, his voice steady this time, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was you. “I love you. That hasn’t changed, and it won’t. Never”.

You let out a shaky breath, clinging to his words as you buried your face in his chest. The fear, the uncertainty—it was still there, but in this moment, wrapped in his arms, you knew that whatever happened next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

Jensen held you tighter, his arms wrapping around you as if he could shield you from everything in the world. He pressed his forehead to yours, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just breathed with you, letting the tension between you slowly dissolve. The weight of the past few hours still lingered in the air, but his touch, his closeness, was a balm to the raw emotions swirling inside you.

“I’m just glad you’re okay”, he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though he were afraid of breaking the fragile peace between you. “I’m so damn glad you’re safe”.

His words hit you in a way you didn’t expect. After everything—the fear, the storm, the confession you had been dreading—he wasn’t focused on the whirlwind of emotions that had just unfolded. Instead, his focus was on you, on the fact that you had made it through, that you were here, with him, despite the chaos that had threatened to tear everything apart.

The intensity of his relief was palpable, and you could feel the tension in his body ease slightly as he whispered those words, as if the realization that you were safe was finally sinking in for him. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, which were still soft, full of concern and something deeper—something that cut through the uncertainty of the situation.

“I was so scared”, you whispered back, your voice shaking as fresh tears welled up in your eyes. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if you’d—”.

He cut you off gently, brushing your cheek with his thumb, his touch steady and reassuring. “I’m here”, he said, his voice firmer now, though still laced with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to figure this out. I don’t have all the answers right now, but I know I don’t want to lose you. And I know I’m just… so relieved you’re okay. I couldn’t handle it if something had happened to you”.

His eyes searched yours, and you could see how deeply he meant every word. The vulnerability in his voice, the rawness of his emotions, made your heart ache in a different way now. You could see how the fear of almost losing you—not just physically, but also emotionally—had affected him. The weight of it all had pressed down on him in ways you hadn’t even realized.

Jensen's hand gently slid from your cheek down to your chin, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he tilted your face up toward his. His touch was soft but deliberate, grounding you in the moment as the raw emotions between you seemed to quiet for just a second. Your heart pounded in your chest, but not out of fear this time—it was something else, something deeper.

His eyes searched yours for a brief moment, as if making sure you were okay with what was about to happen. And then, slowly, he leaned down, closing the small distance between you. His lips met yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, the kiss soft, slow, full of all the unspoken emotions that had been swirling between you for what felt like forever.

The world outside seemed to fade away, the storm, the fear, the uncertainty, all of it dissolving as his lips moved against yours. It was a kiss that wasn’t rushed or desperate, but one that spoke of relief and connection—like he was trying to tell you with every brush of his lips that no matter how hard things got, he was still here, still with you.

You melted into him, your hands instinctively reaching up to rest against his chest as you kissed him back, the warmth of his body grounding you in the moment. Every fear, every doubt you’d carried over the past few weeks seemed to evaporate, replaced by the overwhelming sense of safety that came with being close to him.

When he finally pulled back, just slightly, he rested his forehead against yours again, both of you breathing heavily from the weight of the moment. His hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, gently holding you in place, like he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.

“I’m not going anywhere”, Jensen whispered again, his voice rough with emotion. “No matter what happens, I’m right here with you. Always”.

Your chest tightened with emotion as you nodded, unable to find the words to say what you were feeling. Instead, you leaned into him again, pressing your lips to his, this time with a little more urgency, needing to feel the reassurance of his presence, needing to know that he really was there, that you weren’t alone in this.

Jensen kissed you back, his grip tightening slightly on the back of your neck as he pulled you even closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist. His kiss was deeper this time, more sure, more certain, and you could feel the shift in him, the way he was letting go of some of the fear and replacing it with the quiet determination to face whatever came next together.

When you finally pulled away again, you rested your head against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat comforting you in a way that nothing else could. He held you there for a long moment, his chin resting on top of your head as his arms wrapped securely around you, as if he was making sure you knew that he was still with you, still holding you close.

“We’re going to be okay”, Jensen whispered, his voice steady now, full of quiet conviction. “No matter what happens, we’re going to be okay”.

And as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you believed him.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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#jensen x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles the boys #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #spn cast #supernatural

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satorulovebot · 5 months ago

Text

CIGARETTES AND WHISKY | WELCOME TO LONE STAR RANCH. (1)

↳ satoru gojou x suguru getou x reader

genre. angst, fluff, modern au, cowboys, 18+

tags/warnings. drug use (smoking), profanity

notes. 6.8k wc. please enjoy this mini-series my brain cooked up while I was thinking about this choices story I read and horseland, yes the show from 20 years ago. highly recommend. yes, this is stereotypical and takes place in texas (unfortunately). don't smoke kiddos. geto is here too btw.

series masterlist -> chapter two

The Texas sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the sprawling landscape that seemed to stretch on for miles. The drive had been long, winding through open country and passing tall grass swaying in the light breeze.

A sense of relief washed over you as the GPS announced your arrival. The place you were going to was around two and a half hours from Houston, in the middle of nowhere, with a small town thirty minutes away. As your car rolled to a stop at the entrance, you could hear the gravel crunch beneath the tires. In front of you stood a large archway made of weathered wood. The old archway had the words "Lone Star Ranch," painted in a dark blue that had faded over time. Beneath the arch, a long driveway stretched out before you that led to the heart of the ranch.

You rested your hands on the steering wheel and sat for a moment, deciding to take in the sight before you. The ranch was beautiful. Beyond the driveway you could see there were rolling hills dotted with cattle and trees that stretched into the distance. You thought the air here felt different—cleaner, somehow.

Taking a deep breath, you turned off the engine, allowing the sounds of the countryside to embrace you. The only sounds you could hear were the distant mooing of cattle and the faint chirping of birds. It was a far cry from the noisy city you had left behind not long ago. Truth be told, you were looking for a place to start over, and you thought this was the solution.

As you stepped out of the car, a realization dawned upon you: you had never lived on a ranch before, worked with animals, or dealt with the physical labor that ranch life demanded. You had briefly ridden horses when you were younger but that was… how many years ago? Over eighteen years ago? You were a city person through and through, and you were going to have to learn to live in the countryside.

The sun was warm against your skin as you stretched, trying to shake off the stiffness from the long drive. You walked around to the back of the car, popping the trunk and pulling out your bags. The sound of your shoes crunching against the gravel was the only noise that filled the air. You were truly out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the ranch and its inhabitants for miles.

You slung a bag over your shoulder and turned around to take in the ranch. To your left was a large, two-story ranch house that overlooked the property. You could tell it was older, similar to the sign out front. The house had a wide front porch that wrapped around the entire house, supported by thick wooden beams. Further down the driveway, you could see several barns and stables; the red paint was faded and chipped, but it was well-maintained.

Just as you were about to close the trunk, a sound from off in the distance caught your attention. It was faint at first, but it grew louder with each passing second—a steady, rhythmic beat that seemed to echo across the open land. Curious, you turned toward the sound, squinting against the sun that hung low on the horizon.

That’s when you saw him.

A man on horseback was riding toward you. The horse's powerful legs were kicking up small clouds of dust with each stride. The man atop the horse sat tall in the saddle, his posture relaxed. As he drew closer, you could make out more details—his broad shoulders, his tanned skin that seemed to gleam in the sunlight, his unruly white hair, and the cowboy hat that shielded his eyes from the sun's glare.

He was shirtless, his torso exposed to the sun, revealing a well-defined physique. It was the kind of body that came from years of hard work and physical labor. A pair of worn jeans hung low on his hips, held up by a thick leather belt with a silver buckle that gleamed in the sunlight.

There was something magnetic about him as if there was something that demanded attention and respect. He oozed confidence, the kind that came from knowing exactly who you were and who you had the potential to be. As he approached where you were standing, he slowed the horse to a stop, his head tilted slightly as he judged you from beneath his hat.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice was smooth and carried a hint of amusement. “What do we have here?”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words, caught off guard by the almost lazy way he spoke. Though his voice was warm, like honey on a hot summer day.

“I’m here for the job,” you managed to say. “Is this Lone Star Ranch?”

A slow smile spread across his lips, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearm on the saddle horn as he looked you up and down. “Sure is,” he replied. “And you must be our new guest.”

The way he said “guest” made you feel like there was more to it than just a simple word. His voice was familiar, as if he already knew more about you than you were comfortable with. But before you could dwell on it, he continued, his smile widening.

“Name’s Satoru Gojo,” he said, swinging a leg over the horse and dismounting effortlessly. He landed lightly on his feet, standing a good head taller than you. “Owner of this fine establishment.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest. “Nice to meet you. I’m—”

“Hold that thought,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “No need for introductions just yet. We’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

He took a step closer to you, and you took a step back. You could see the details you had missed before: the way his muscles moved with each step, the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and how he seemed to enjoy your discomfort.

“Don’t look so tense,” he said, his tone light and teasing as he reached out and gave your shoulder a gentle pat. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask nicely.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words, and felt embarrassment creeping up your neck. This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined your first meeting would go. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

Gojou seemed to sense your discomfort because he took a step back, giving you some space. “Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he said as his smile softened. “Welcome to Lone Star Ranch. You’re gonna love it here, I promise.”

“Thanks,” you managed to say. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good to hear,” he said, turning to gesture toward the ranch house in the distance. “Why don’t you grab your stuff, and I’ll show you to your room? We’ll get you settled in, and then I’ll introduce you to the rest of the crew.”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, moving to the trunk of your car and pulling out your bags. As you did, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at Gojou, who had turned his attention back to his horse, murmuring something to the animal as he stroked its mane.

There was no denying that he was attractive in a rugged sort of way.

As you slung your bags over your shoulder, you turned back to Gojou, who was now waiting for you. “Ready?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ready,” you replied, following him as he led the way toward the ranch house, your heart still pounding in your chest.

The walk to the ranch house was longer than you expected, giving you time to take in the surroundings. The ranch was even larger up close, with open spaces that seemed to go on forever. Gojou walked a few paces ahead of you, his long strides making it hard for you to keep up with him.

As the two of you got closer to the ranch, you could see the details that had been too far away to notice before. The wood on the house was old but well cared for, the front porch had rows of flowers along the trim of the railing, and a few rocking chairs that looked very inviting.

Gojou reached the front steps and turned to look at you. “So,” he said, resting a hand on the railing as he waited for you to catch up, “what brings you out here? Most people don’t come to Lone Star Ranch unless they’ve got a good reason.”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to the man you had just met not even ten minutes ago. Your past was something you’d hoped to leave behind, but it seemed that even out here, in the middle of nowhere, you couldn’t escape it. You forced a smile, hoping to deflect the question. “Just needed a change of scenery,” you said, your tone casual. “Figured this was as good a place as any.”

Gojou raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your answer, but he didn’t press you about it. Instead, he gave a small nod, as if accepting your response for now. “Well, you’ve definitely found a change of scenery,” he said, pushing open the front door and holding it open for you. “Come on in. I’ll show you around.”

When you stepped inside, you were immediately hit by the cool air and the smell of wood and leather. The interior of the house was just as rustic as the exterior, with hardwood floors, ceiling beams, and walls filled with old photographs. The furniture was a mix of older pieces that looked like they’d been there for years and newer additions that added a touch of modern comfort. It was the kind of place that felt lived in, like a home that had been passed down through generations.

Gojou led you through the house, pointing out the various rooms as you went. The kitchen was spacious, with a large wooden table in the center and windows that overlooked the back of the ranch. The living room was cozy, with a stone fireplace and shelves lined with books and trinkets. You passed by several other rooms—an office, a dining room, and what looked like a mudroom near the back door—before finally reaching a staircase that led to the second floor.

“Your room’s upstairs,” Gojou said, gesturing for you to follow him. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s comfortable enough. You’ll have plenty of privacy up there.”

You nodded, following him up the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under your weight. The second floor was just as charming as the first, with a long hallway that led to several bedrooms. Gojou stopped in front of one of the doors, pushing it open to reveal a small but cozy room. The bed was made up with a simple quilt, and a large window let in plenty of natural light. A dresser and a small desk completed the space, and there was a door on the far side that you assumed led to a closet.

“This is you,” Gojou said, stepping aside to let you enter. “Like I said, it’s not much, but it should suit your needs. There’s an attached bathroom too, so you won’t have to worry about sharing.”

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

He gave you that easy smile again, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you. “Glad you think so. I’ll let you get settled in, and then we can go over the details of your job. There’s a lot to do around here, but I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he paused in the doorway, glancing back at you. “Oh, and one more thing,” his tone more serious now. “This place… it’s special. The people, the land, everything about it. We take care of our own here, but that means we expect you to do the same. Understand?”

You met his gaze, understanding the weight of his words. This wasn’t just a job—it was a community, a way of life that you were being invited into. You nodded, “I understand.”

He studied you for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied with your answer. “Good. I’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready.”

With that, he left, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in your new room. You stood there for a moment, taking in the silence, the sense of stillness that seemed to permeate the air. This was it—the start of your new life, far away from everything you’d known before.

You walked over to the window, looking out at the view of the ranch below. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the land, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The sight was breathtaking, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace.

The night passed fairly quickly, though your sleep was interrupted by the sounds of the night—the creak of the old house settling, the distant howls of coyotes, and the occasional rustle of the wind against the windows. Despite the disturbances, you woke up bright and early, got dressed, and headed downstairs.

As you made your way to the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted you like a warm hug. As you sipped your coffee, you couldn’t help but glance around the kitchen. It was spacious, with wooden cabinets, a large farmhouse sink, and a sturdy wooden table in the center. The walls were full of old photographs of the ranch in its earlier days, groups of cowboys standing proudly next to their horses. It was clear that the ranch had a history deeply intertwined with the land and the people who had worked it.

You were halfway through drinking your coffee when the back door creaked open, and a figure stepped into the kitchen. You turned to see a man about your age, tall and lean with dark hair that was pulled back into a bun. He was dressed in work clothes—a faded denim shirt and worn jeans, with a pair of sturdy boots that had seen better days. His expression was calm as he glanced at you with dark eyes.

“You must be the new hire,” he said, his voice low and even, with a slight drawl that was less pronounced than Gojou’s. “I’m Suguru Getou, the ranch hand. Gojou probably mentioned me.”

You nodded, feeling a little awkward under his gaze. “He did. It’s nice to meet you.”

Getou gave you a small nod and moved past you to pour himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t say anything else, and you took the opportunity to study him. You noticed the way he moved, his mannerisms, and his calloused hands from years of labor. There was something about him, a seriousness that contrasted with Gojou’s easygoing nature.

“You up for a tour?” Getou asked, breaking the silence as he turned to lean against the counter. “Might as well show you the ropes before Gojou starts piling on the work.”

You nodded, and without another word, he led you out of the kitchen and into the cool morning air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows across the ranch. You followed Getou down the porch steps and onto the gravel path that led toward the barns, the sound of your footsteps mingling with the distant lowing of cattle and the soft noise of horses.

As you walked, Getou pointed out the various buildings and areas of the ranch, his explanations brief but informative. He showed you the stables, where the horses were kept, the barns where the cattle feed and equipment were stored, and the paddocks where the horses were turned out to graze.

“This here’s the main barn,” he said, stopping in front of a large structure. “You’ll spend a lot of time here, mucking stalls, feeding the horses, and helping with whatever else needs doing. It’s hard work, but it’s honest, and you’ll learn a lot if you’re willing to put in the effort.”

You nodded, looking around the barn. Its large wooden doors were open to reveal rows of stalls, each one occupied by a horse. Getou turned to you and gestured for you to follow him. He led you inside, and as you walked down the aisle, you couldn’t help but admire their sleek coats in the morning sunlight. They were beautiful creatures, each one unique in color and stature, their eyes calm and intelligent as they watched you pass. You could tell they were well cared for, their stalls clean and their coats brushed to a shine.

“Over here’s the tack room,” Getou continued, opening a door to reveal a small room lined with saddles, bridles, and other riding gear. “Everything you need for riding and working with the horses is in here. Make sure you put things back where you found them—Satoru’s pretty particular about that.”

You smiled at the thought of Gojou being particular about anything, but you nodded, committing the layout to memory. Getou didn’t seem to notice your amusement.

As Getou walked you through the basics, you noticed how he handled the horses with care and precision. He showed you how to properly secure a saddle, making sure it was snug but not too tight. He showed you how to brush down a horse after a ride, explaining that it was just as important as the ride itself—“Keeps ’em happy and healthy,” he said with a small smile.

He led you back out into the barn, where a few of the other ranch hands had already started their morning chores. They greeted Getou with nods and brief exchanges and you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place because you were a newcomer in a tightly-knit community.

"By the way," he added with a casual wave of his hand, "the blonde one is Nanami, the guy with the pink hair is Sukuna, and the one with the black hair is Toji. You'll see a woman with brown hair—her name is Shoko." He paused, then continued, "We've also got some youngsters around the farm. You'll run into them—Ino, Nobara, Megumi, Yuuji, Yuuta, Maki, and Mai. They're a lively fuckin' bunch."

As the morning went on, Getou continued to walk you through the basics of ranch work—mucking out stalls, feeding the horses, and preparing saddles for the day’s rides. The work was hard, the kind that left you sweaty and sore, but there was a sense of accomplishment that came from seeing the results of your effort.

Getou was a patient man, while he didn’t coddle you, he wasn’t harsh either, simply showing you what needed to be done and trusting you to do it. You appreciated his straightforward approach, and by the time the sun was high in the sky, you felt like you were beginning to get the hang of things.

It was late morning when Gojou finally made his appearance, strolling into the barn with his usual carefree attitude. He was dressed more appropriately today, though his shirt was unbuttoned halfway, exposing the tanned skin of his chest. He greeted Getou with a grin and a slap on the back.

“Well, look at you, already hard at work,” Gojou said, his tone light and teasing as he approached you. “I was half expecting you to be scared shitless, hiding in the house, hoping no one would notice.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not afraid of a little hard work.”

Gojou laughed, clearly pleased by your response. “That’s what I like to hear. Keep that attitude, and you’ll do just fine around here.”

“How’s the newbie doing?” Gojou asked, leaning against the stall door.

“Not bad,” Getou replied. “She’s picking things up pretty quick.”

“Good, good,” Gojou said with a nod, turning back to you. “You keep up the good work, and we might just make a ranch hand out of you yet.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with Gojou and Getou both showing you the ropes and making sure you were settling in. By the time the sun began to set, you were exhausted, every muscle in your body aching from the day.

As you sat on the porch steps that evening and watched the sun dip below the horizon, you couldn’t help but feel that the ranch was starting to feel like home. For the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Later that evening, after dinner—a simple but hearty meal prepared by one of the other ranch hands, Sukuna—you found yourself alone in the barn, finishing up some of the chores that had been left for the end of the day. The barn was quiet now, the horses settled in their stalls, the air cool and tinged with the scent of hay and leather.

You were brushing down one of the horses, a gentle mare with a soft brown coat, when you heard footsteps coming from behind you. You turned to see Getou standing in the doorway.

“Didn’t expect to find you here this late,” he said, walking over to the stall where you were working. “Most folks would’ve called it a day by now.”

You shrugged, focusing on your work. “Just wanted to make sure everything was done. Didn’t want to leave anything unfinished.”

Getou watched you for a moment. “You don’t have to prove anything, you know,” he said quietly. “No one’s expecting you to do more than your share.”

You paused, looking up at him. There was something in his tone that made you feel like he understood more than he was letting on, like he knew what it was like to have something to prove.

“I know,” you said softly. “But I want to.”

Getou nodded, seeming to accept your answer. He leaned against the stall door, watching as you finished brushing down the mare. The silence between you was comfortable this time, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words.

When you finally put the brush away and closed the stall door, Getou straightened up. “Come on,” he said, gesturing toward the barn entrance. “It’s getting late. You’ll need your rest if you want to keep up tomorrow.”

You followed him out of the barn, the cool night air wrapped around you like a blanket. The stars were just beginning to appear in the sky, their light faint but steady.

As the two of you walked back toward the house, you felt as if there was a silent understanding between you both. He might not be the most talkative person, but you found yourself drawn to him.

By the time you reached the house, you were both silent, each lost in your thoughts. Getou paused at the bottom of the porch steps, turning to look at you.

“Good work today,” he said simply.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He nodded, and with that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the night. You watched him go, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

The next morning, you were up before dawn, the quiet stillness of the ranch interrupted only by the distant crowing of a rooster and the soft chirping of early birds. The house was still shrouded in darkness as you moved through the hallway, careful not to wake anyone. You found yourself in the kitchen once again, savoring the quiet before the day began.

The previous day had been overwhelming, but you were eager to prove that you could handle the challenges of ranch life. The soreness in your muscles was a reminder of the hard work ahead, but it was also a testament to your determination to make this new life work.

You were just finishing your coffee when you heard the sound of boots on the porch. You turned, half-expecting to see Getou or one of the other ranch hands, but instead, the door swung open to reveal Gojou, his signature smirk already in place. He was dressed casually, a worn-out pair of jeans slung low on his hips and a white shirt.

“Mornin’,” he drawled, his blue eyes sparkling as he made his way into the kitchen. “You’re up early. Couldn’t sleep, or just eager to start another day of hard labor?”

“A little of both,” you admitted, setting your empty mug in the sink. “I wanted to get a head start.”

Gojou chuckled. “That’s the spirit! We like a bit of enthusiasm around here.” He leaned casually against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied you. “Though I gotta say, you might want to pace yourself. Ranch work isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon. You'll burn out too quickly, and then you’ll be no good to anyone.”

You nodded, appreciating the advice. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Gojou pushed himself off the counter and stretched, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal his toned abs and a light trail of hair. “Good. Now, how about we get out there and see what kind of trouble we can stir up?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his infectious energy, even if you knew it would likely lead to him teasing you all day. Together, you left the kitchen and stepped out into the cool morning air, the sun still on the horizon.

As you walked down the porch steps and headed toward the barn, Gojou kept up a steady stream of conversation. He asked you about your first day, your impressions of the ranch, and how you were adjusting. It was clear that, beneath his carefree exterior, he genuinely cared about how you were settling in.

“I have to admit,” Gojou said as you reached the barn, “I wasn’t sure how you’d handle all this. Not everyone’s cut out for ranch life, especially not city folk. But you’ve got grit, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks, I’m not afraid of a little hard work.”

“Good thing, too,” he said with a wink. “Because today, we’re going to see what you’re really made of.”

Inside the barn, the familiar scent of hay and horses greeted you, along with the soft sounds of animals moving around in their stalls. A few of the ranch hands, Nanami and Toji, were already at work, moving like people who had done this countless times before. They greeted you and Gojou with nods and brief smiles before returning to their tasks.

Gojou led you to the tack room, where he grabbed a saddle and a bridle, handing them to you with a grin. “Today, we’re going to get you up on a horse and see how you do. Ever ridden before?”

“A little,” you admitted, recalling the few times you’d been on a horse as a kid. “But it’s been a while.”

“No worries,” Gojou said, clapping you on the back. “I’ll make sure you’re in good hands. Or hooves, as it were.”

You followed him out to the paddock, where a few horses were grazing in the early morning light. The sight of them, their sleek coats glistening in the sun, was breathtaking. You could feel a sense of awe and respect for these powerful creatures, their size and strength a reminder of just how different ranch life was from anything you’d known before.

Gojou led one of the horses over to you. She was a chestnut mare with a white line down her face.

“This is Maple,” Gojou said, patting the mare’s neck affectionately. “She’s one of the gentlest horses we’ve got, perfect for someone who’s still finding their feet. She’ll take good care of you.”

You reached out to stroke Maple’s nose, feeling the soft warmth of her breath against your hand. The horse nickered softly, her large, intelligent eyes watching you with a calm curiosity.

“Go ahead and saddle her up,” Gojou instructed, stepping back to give you space. “I’ll be right here if you need any help.”

You took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. The saddle felt heavier than you remembered, the leather creaking as you lifted it onto Maple’s back. You fumbled a bit with the cinch, your fingers clumsy as you tried to remember the steps, but Gojou was patient, offering guidance without stepping in unless you needed it.

Once Maple was saddled, you took a moment to adjust the stirrups and make sure everything was secure. It was a small accomplishment, but it was significant to you, and you couldn’t help but smile as you led Maple out into the open paddock.

“Not bad,” Gojou remarked. “You’re a quick learner.”

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to hide the flush that crept up your cheeks.

“Now, let’s see you get up there,” Gojou said, gesturing toward the horse.

You took another deep breath, then placed your foot in the stirrup and swung yourself up into the saddle. The motion was a bit awkward, but you managed it without too much trouble. Once you were seated, you adjusted your position, gripping the reins loosely as you tried to find your balance.

Maple stood patiently beneath you, her ears flicking back as if she could sense your nervousness. But her calm demeanor helped to steady your nerves, and you took a moment to relax into the saddle, letting the rhythm of her breathing guide you.

“Remember, don’t pull too hard on the reins,” Gojou advised, leaning against the fence as he watched you. “Just gentle pressure—she’ll respond to even the slightest touch.”

You nodded, taking his advice to heart as you gave Maple a light nudge with your heels. The mare started forward with a smooth, easy gait, her movements fluid and controlled. You could feel the power in her legs as she moved.

Gojou walked alongside you as you guided Maple around the paddock. His presence was reassuring. He offered tips as you went, his voice calm and steady. You learned you really liked it. It wasn’t long before you began to feel more comfortable in the saddle, the initial awkwardness fading as you found your rhythm.

“See? You’ve got this,” Gojou said with a grin, watching as you guided Maple through a series of gentle turns. “It’s all about finding that connection with the horse, trusting each other. Once you’ve got that, the rest is easy.”

But just as you were starting to relax, Maple’s ears suddenly flicked up, her head lifting as she sensed something. You followed her gaze and saw a figure standing by the fence—a man with a rugged appearance and a steely gaze that sent a shiver down your spine.

It was the same man you’d seen the day before, watching you with a look that was hard to decipher. His presence was unsettling, a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie you’d shared with Gojou. There was something about him that put you on edge, a coldness in his eyes that seemed to pierce right through you.

Gojou noticed your reaction and followed your gaze, his expression darkening slightly as he saw the man. “Don’t mind him,” He said dismissively. “That’s just one of the neighbors. He’s always hanging around, looking for something to complain about.”

Eventually, the man turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease as you continued your ride.

After your riding lesson, Gojou led you through more of the daily tasks—mucking stalls, feeding the horses, and helping maintain the ranch.

The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the Lone Star Ranch in hues of amber and gold. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, wrapping everything in a soft, golden light. As you walked alongside Gojou back to the house, you felt a deep sense of contentment.

The silence between you was comfortable only interrupted by the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant sounds of ranch animals preparing for the night. It was a moment that felt suspended in time.

When you reached the porch, Gojou paused and turned to you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about we enjoy the sunset?” he suggested, gesturing to a pair of weathered leather chairs positioned perfectly to face the horizon.

You nodded as you settled into one of the chairs, you felt the worn leather conform to your body. The view from the porch was breathtaking—the sky was full of oranges, pinks, and purples, with the setting sun casting long, soft shadows across the ranch.

Gojou took the seat beside you, leaning back into the soft leather. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tin, the metallic surface catching the last rays of sunlight. With a flick of his wrist, he opened it, revealing a pack of cigarettes nestled inside.

He glanced over at you. “Do you mind?” he asked, though his tone suggested he was more interested in your reaction than in seeking actual permission.

You shook your head, watching curiously as he took a cigarette from the pack and brought it to his lips. He then pulled out a decorated lighter, the flame illuminating his face for a moment before he lit the cigarette, and inhaled deeply.

The first plumes of smoke curled upward, drifting lazily into the evening air. Gojou exhaled slowly, the smoke forming delicate spirals before dissipating into the breeze. There was something almost hypnotic about the way he smoked, each motion was as if he were savoring not just the cigarette but the moment itself.

It was kind of hot.

Gojou took another drag, his eyes half-closed as he exhaled slowly, the smoke blending with the soft colors of the sunset.

“You know,” he began, “there’s something about this time of day that makes everything feel... clearer. Like all the noise from the day just fades away.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “It’s peaceful,” you replied, your voice soft. “It’s like the world slows down for a while.”

Gojou glanced at you, his eyes catching the light in a way that made them appear even more blue, more intense. “Exactly. It’s a good time to just... be. No expectations, no pressure.”

He took another slow drag from the cigarette, the end glowing a bright orange before he exhaled again, this time blowing the smoke out in a thin, steady stream. The smoke seemed to hang in the air between you, creating a veil that blurred the lines between the two of you, making the moment feel even more intimate.

“You ever smoke?” Gojou asked, breaking the silence.

“Not really,” you admitted, your gaze still fixed on the way the smoke curled in the air. “Never saw the appeal.”

“Shit, you’re missing out, sweetheart,” Gojou said with a playful grin. “You’re finally getting a taste of what ranch life is all about."

Gojou chuckled softly, “But yeah, it’s not for everyone. But sometimes it’s more about the ritual than anything else. It’s a way to take a step back, to slow down and just... breathe.”

There was something soothing about the way he described it, and you found yourself nodding in agreement. “I can see that.”

Gojou turned to face you. “Wanna try?”

You hesitated for a moment, but the curiosity got the better of you. “Sure,” you said, accepting the cigarette he offered with a reluctant smile.

The last thing you thought he would do was pull the cigarette he was smoking out of his mouth and hand it to you. But you took it anyway.

As your fingers brushed against his, you felt a spark of warmth that sent a shiver up your spine. Gojou’s gaze lingered on you as you brought the cigarette to your lips, his eyes were filled with something that you couldn’t quite place.

You took a small drag, the smoke was harsh on your throat at first, but you quickly adjusted, mimicking the way Gojou had exhaled. The smoke tasted bitter, but there was something oddly intimate about sharing a cigarette. It was something grounding in the way it forced you to focus on each breath.

“Not bad,” He remarked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a natural.”

You laughed softly, the sound blending with the rustling of the leaves in the breeze. “I wouldn’t go that far, but thanks.”

Gojou leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another drag. The air between you seemed to thicken with every passing second.

As you passed the cigarette back to him, your fingers brushed against his again, and this time the two of you lingered. Gojou didn’t pull away, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were testing the boundaries between you. The moment stretched out, filled with an unspoken question, one that neither of you seemed ready to answer just yet.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting the last rays of golden light over the ranch. The sky had deepened to a rich indigo, with stars beginning to twinkle faintly above. The temperature dropped slightly, the coolness of the evening air brushing against your skin.

Gojou took another long drag from the cigarette, his eyes half-lidded as he exhaled slowly, watching the smoke drift into the night. His gaze turned back to you, “You’re different from what I expected,” he said, his voice low. “Stronger.”

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a flush of warmth spread through you. “Thanks,” you replied softly, not entirely sure how to respond.

Gojou’s smile was faint but genuine as he took one last drag from the cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray beside him. “Most people don’t last long out here. They get scared off by the work, and the isolation... But you? You’re tougher than you look.”

You’d spent so much of your life running from your past, trying to prove to yourself that you could handle whatever came your way, and hearing those words from Gojou, of all people, felt like a validation you hadn’t realized you needed.

“You’re not what I expected either,” you admitted, meeting his gaze. “You’re... different.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and rich in the cool evening air. “Good different, I hope.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Good different.”

“You know, Gojou, you’re not as bad as I thought you would be.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shook your head, a faint smile playing at your lips. “I mean, I had this whole idea of you being a bit of a troublemaker. Turns out, you’re just a guy who knows how to unwind.”

Gojou chuckled, “And here I was thinking you’d have too much of a stick up your ass to appreciate a good smoke.”

“Guess I’m full of surprises,” you replied, your tone light.

“By the way, you can call me Satoru.”

"Satoru..." You tested his name on your tongue, “Well, Satoru, thanks for sharing your cigarette with me. It’s nice to have a moment like this, away from all the chaos.”

Satoru’s smile softened, his eyes meeting yours. “Anytime. And if you ever need a break or just someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

As the last light faded from the sky, Satoru stood up and stretched. “It’s getting late,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “We should head inside.”

You nodded, though part of you wasn’t quite ready for the evening to end. The house, with its inviting atmosphere, felt like a refuge from the outside world, out here, in the open air, with the stars overhead and the smell of tobacco lingering.

Satoru extended a hand, his calloused fingers warm against yours. Together, you walked back toward the house, the evening’s cool breeze brushing against your skin.

Inside, the warmth of the house enveloped you, and the scent of wood and earth filled your senses. The memories of the day—Satoru teaching you how to ride a horse, the two of you sharing a cigarette and watching the sun setting over the ranch played through your mind.

Satoru paused at the foot of the stairs, turning to you with a soft smile. “Goodnight Y/N,” he said, his voice low.

“Goodnight,” you replied his gaze linger on you as you made your way upstairs.

You settled into bed with the comforting sounds of the ranch lulling you to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And just before you drifted off, the image of Satoru—cigarette in hand and eyes full of mischief—lingered in your mind.

Maybe this was where you were meant to be.

series masterlist -> chapter 2

#series: cigarettes and whisky #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo #getou suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #suguru geto

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