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hugshughes · 9 months ago

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Family Dinner C. Loveland

Colston Loveland x fem!Minter!reader

synopsis - The first time Colston meets your family, as your boyfriend.

wc - 3k

contains - unedited for the most part! WAIT. I didn't specify this in the fic but ITS THE READER'S APARTMENT COLSTON'S JUST STAYING OVER!! i was not giving them a shared apartment after dating for three months. set a couple months in the future (not specificccc just needed cause these two get together right after the cfp playoffs so it's like april), cursinggg, kissinggggg, touchingggg, makin outttt, my usuals. GUYS SHE HAD A DORM IN THE FIRST PART NOW SHE HAS AN APARTMENT OKAY????? ITS GONNA BE OKAY. hmmm um i describe the outfit???? like i always do and it's usually not a problem(?) soooo, um i literally think that's it. is minter!daughter!reader a warning?

an - SHESSSSS BAAAAAAACK!!!!!!! could NOT resist and i had the cutestttttttttt requests coming in sooooooo how could i not. this was the cutest thing to write.

You groaned as your phone sounded, your scheduled alarm had gone off. Scheduled for 5:30, so when you'd know to start getting ready for dinner at your parents.

Usually it wouldn't really matter, but since tonight was the first time you'd taken Colston home, you wanted to look a little nicer than normal. You shut your alarm off quickly, before turning to look at the boy sleeping next to you.

You crept your hand under his sweatshirt, your palm flat against his warm back as you rubbed back and forth, whispering his name gently.

"Colston, baby, we gotta get ready to go, Lovey."

His eyes squeezed tightly before fluttering open, his long and full lashes leaving a forever pang of jealousy on your heart. He smiled that perfect smile, and you gave one right back to him. He shuffled just a little, moving onto his side before he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his long, strong arms around you.

"Hi baby."

Your heart tripled in size. He sounded sleepy and it was the cutest yet hottest thing you'd ever heard. You let him snuggle into you, laying back on his stomach with his head now on your chest. You raked your nails through his hair, before lightly scratching the back of his neck. The act almost put him right back to sleep, but you gave his hair a gentle tug before it could, causing Colston to look up at you with attitude.

"You gotta get up, at least I gotta get up."

He just ignored you, kissing the concern off your face. His hands layed under your (his) shirt as he now leaned over you. He kissed you long and hard as your hands grasped at his jaw, then neck, then chest, then hair. You pulled him back by your grip in his hair, once again tugging it.

"Y'cant kiss me outta this, Loveland."

"Are you sure?"'

Then he kissed you again, and you almost gave into him as he kissed you so good that your mind just blanked. Oh right, dinner, your family, 7pm. You could tell Colston was stalling partially because he just wanted to kiss, but also partially because he was nervous. Colston didn't like being nervous, but how could he not be? It was his first time seeing your parents in the context of 'girlfriend's mother and father' instead of Coach and Mrs. Coach.

You pulled away after indulging in him just a tad.

"Cole, they already love you, you know that, I know that. My dad might be a bit weird but he's just being a dad. My mom is obsessed with you and me, so she shouldn't cause any problems. And as for the three monsters under the staircase-"

"My top three Minter siblings."

You gasped, before you pushed his face away from yours as a smirk encapsulated it. You let his head lay on your chest before continuing.

"Rude. But anyway, it's been known that they love you. They're probably our biggest supporters. What's our couple name? My sister was wondering."

Colston shook his head, laughing at your baby sister's actions. The kids did love him, they had loved him for way longer than when you began dating. Colston sighed, it would be fine. He started kissing your neck, now just because he wanted to kiss you.

"You cannot go giving me marks right before we see my parents, you psycho."

You could feel him smile into your neck, and you almost told him to do whatever he wanted to you. He was so hot, and he knew how it affected you. For the third time, you ran your fingers through his brown hair and tugged it, this time to get his face away from your neck. He gave you an innocent look, causing you to roll your eyes heavily.

You rolled out from under him, getting off your bed with a heavy heart. If you could, you would jump right back in bed for a makeout session, but you knew it was probably for the better.

"Stop looking at me like that, or I'll get back in bed with you."

"You say that like I don't want it more than anything."

You shook your head as you trudged into the bathroom to do your hair. Your phone played music that floated into your bedroom as hot tools and brushes ran through your hair. Colston came into your bathroom, wordlessly wrapping his arms around your hips, his head laying on your shoulder. Your heart melted as you heard him start humming along with Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers. You were rubbing off on him.

You did your makeup with one hand as the other rested on top of Colston's. When you were finished you turned around in Colston's arms, standing there, hugging him for just a little bit while the music played.

Soon enough, you left the bathroom, Colston following behind you. If was 6:15, and you had to leave at about 6:40, and you both needed to change clothes. You put on some jeans and a white sweater, standing infront of your mirror to adjust the collar. You watched Colston through the mirror, he slipped a crewneck on, tugging his chain out from under it. He sat on your bed to put his sneakers on, and when he looked up for just a second he caught your eyes in the mirror. He smiled at you, looking back down to tie his shoe.

"You look that good, and you're saying I can't leave marks?"

You shook your head, giggling as you walked over to him, standing between his spread legs.

"I can play nice, leave no trace behind."

Your knees almost buckled. He was so subtly hot. You shook your head with wide eyes. You leaned down and placed a completely innocent kiss on his lips, pulling away from him before he could get too into it. His hands ran up and down the sides of your thighs, gripping every now and then.

You took a step back, letting him stand up. It was time to go. You turned around to grab your shoes and Colston's palm met the fat of your ass. You turned back to him, a faux offended look on your face. He smiled, shrugging at you, fuck he was hot.

You put your shoes on, grabbing your phone and keychain as Colston slipped his keys, wallet, and phone into his pockets. Colston opened the door, letting you out first and closing it behind him. You exited your apartment complex, finding Colston's car quickly. You put the directions to your parents house onto the screen of the car as Colston's hand found its place on your left thigh.

The drive was silent other than the music, and the occasional robotic noise telling Colston where to turn. You instinctively pulled up his sleeve to trace over his tattoo, one of your favorite things to pass time with.

Colston pulled into the driveway of your parent's home at 6:57, right on schedule. You could tell he was nervous again, his leg bouncing as he turned the car off. You laced your fingers with his, calling his name to get him to look at you.

"Loveland, everything's gonna go perfect. You know them, baby. They know you, which is even better. You don't understand how happy my whole family was when I told them you'd asked me to be your girlfriend. You probably don't even understand how happy I was."

You brought his hand up to your face, kissing his wrist, rubbing your thumb back and forth.

"Serious?"

"One hundred percent."

He nodded, a smile lightly gracing his face.

"There he is."

You two exited the car, walking up your driveway to the front porch. You opened the door, knowing it would be unlocked and the only two people with authority to open the front door were likely busy.

"Guys? We're here!"

Your voice echoed through the house, the three children sitting on the couch bolting up towards the foyer. Your two youngest siblings jumped into Colston's arms while the oldest of the little ones, your first brother hugged you tightly. He was always your little best friend, since he came first among the littles. The other two eventually hugged you, before you all walked through the front of the house to the kitchen, where your mom and dad were handling dinner.

"Hey you two! How are y'all doing?"

Your mom smiled brightly, looking up from where she was pouring waters. You smiled, leaning against the island while you let her know the latest details of your life. Your dad had yet to speak, you knew he was already a bit awkward around people that weren't your immediate family, and Colston being one of his players probably made it worse.

"Dad, speak. You two spend more time together than I do with either of you."

Finally, you got your dad and Colston talking, and everything else fell into place.

You and Colston helped set the table, you subtly bumping hips with him to silently applaud his performance thus far. While you ate, you occasionally rubbed Colston's thigh, just to keep him comfortable and calm.

Your dad thankfully wasn't trying to do the whole, 'What are your intentions with my daughter?' conversation, but you couldn't confidently confirm or deny that he hadn't already tried that at workouts in the past months.

After dinner you watched as Colston helped your mom and dad clean up, your siblings dragging you to the living room to see one of their new things. You were sat on the carpet while you played with your siblings, patting the spot on the couch behind you when Colston came into the living room. You leaned your head on the inside of his thigh as you now sat between his spread legs.

Your parents soon came in too and you watched a hockey game as you talked to them. They asked about school, football, friends, everything. Colston played with your hair while he discussed his current life with your parents, the conversation becoming more and more fluent as time went on.

You moved onto the couch next to Colston when your ass started to feel the hardwood under the rug more and more. You curled into his side, his arm wrapping appropriately around your shoulders.

After some time, your siblings demanded Colston's presence in their playroom. You followed him upstairs, holding his hand for just a second before he was whisked away to the play kitchen.

You stood at the door, leaning against the frame as you stared at the group. You swore you fell more in love with him as you watched him shamelessly wearing a dress up cowboy hat given to him by your 6 year old sister, pretending to eat fake food served by your 4 year old brother, while he talked about video games with your 8 year old brother. He would be such a good dad, holy fuck you were thinking about making him a dad.

"Oh, honey, he's in deep."

You jumped slightly, turning and seeing your mom behind you. She'd just seen the amount of love in your eyes as you watched your boyfriend play with your siblings.

"It seems like you are too."

You blushed, looking away from her. She was right, of course. The two of you were both so heavily infatuated with the each other.

"He's just so.. I think I love him."

Your eyes widened when you realized what you'd said, your mom's smile widening when she heard it. Her baby was in love, with the perfect guy. You really did love him, you'd always known it, but it was the first time you were saying it. You loved him. Soon, it was past 9pm and your mother was telling your siblings it was bedtime. You and Colston said goodnight to each other your siblings, Colston giving in to their requests and ready a book for the younger two.

When the kids went to bed, you told your parents it was probably best for you two to head out as well. You said bye to them, and you giggled as you watched Colston and your dad bro hug.

When you got back in the car, you immediately jumped to hug Colston over the center console.

"I think you're just perfect, Cole. I swear, everything you do is like perfect."

You pulled away and held his face in your hands, looking into his dark eyes.

"I love you."

Colston's eyes widened, his heart erupting when he heard the three words. You two had never said that before. Colston had wanted to for a while now, but was nervous.

"I love you."

You smiled and kissed him sweetly, pulling away with butterflies swarming your stomach. You laced your fingers with him, resting them on your thigh as you began the drive back to your apartment.

You parked and quickly ran in to escape the evening chill in Ann Arbor. You got ready for bed together when you were back in your apartment. Colston's hand rested on your hip as you both brushed your teeth. Your eyes were not so subtly trained on his toned stomach in the mirror. He had opted for sweatpants and no shirt as pajamas, while you had comfy shorts and one of his tshirts on. You raised your sight line and made eye contact with Colston, who raised his eyebrows at you, questioning your staring. Your face warmed as you bent down to wash your mouth out.

Soon enough you were getting into bed with Colston, your head on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. His hands rested on your bare back underneath your shirt.

"You made tonight so perfect, Cole. It means a lot to me, how sweet you are to my family."

You tilted your head up to look at him, seeing a smile fight its way to his face. He really was so gorgeous, the moonlight shining through your blinds bringing light to his face.

"Well, your family happens to be really nice, baby. I think your siblings would've kept me there forever."

You giggled, nodding against his chest. You couldn't help yourself as you shuffled upward, holding his jaw as you kissed him. Colston definitely didn't mine. His hands sliding to the curve of your ass when you got onto your knees, now hovering over him. Colston deepened and heated up the kiss, a grin adorning his face when he heard the smallest sound leave your mouth.

The two of you continued making out, hands wandering and minds racing. Colston's giggle broke the kiss as he couldn't help but react to a gasp you let out. You felt warmth spread from your chest to your face, laying your head in the crook of Colston's neck. He poked at your sides, laughing again as he called your name.

"C'mon, coach, don't be embarrassed. Don't hide from me, baby. You love me, 'member?"

You turned your head, shuffling to his chest to look at him. He was smiling down at you, you loved him.

"Don't abuse your power, Loveland."

His smile widened, pulling you closer.

"You know you're the first guy my dad's ever actually trusted with me?"

You snuggled into his shoulder, yawning. You closed your eyes, you became so comfortable with him rather quickly. You two just knew each other in a way no one else did. You'd known each other for over a year before you ever started dating, but you never really tried to be super close.

Colston was shocked at the admission, he was sure your dad didn't like him that much.

"Y'serious?"

"Mhm. My dad knows that you really care about me, he told me earlier he was glad he could tell you make me happy. He's never ever been even slightly fond of other guys I've had him meet."

Colston was internally celebrating. He'd won your dad over, though he would've had no idea had you not told him. Jesse Minter liked very few people that weren't his family, and sometimes, just sometimes, he liked the people that made his family happy. And he could see that Colston made you happy, very happy.

"I make you happy?"

Colston said it as a joke, stretching the last word for a few seconds longer than normal.

"For some reason, you do."

Colston pinched at your hip, giving your ass a squeeze before leaving his hand to rest there. You snuggled closer into each other, eyes gently closing. Light kisses left on foreheads and necks, hands rubbing back and forth, up and down, soothing. You two whispered three words to each other seconds before you were both asleep, warmth filling your stomachs. Both you and Colston had finally found the person for you, and knew that you were in it for the long haul.

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jobean12-blog · 2 years ago

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Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 2,228

Summary: Joel’s been away on a trip and when he returns you’re the only thing on his mind (just like you were the whole time he was gone).

Author’s Note: He’s baaaaaaack because I’m in love and while this is related to my other two Biker!Joel stories you can find on his Masterlist HERE you don’t need to read them for this one. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you love!

Warnings: lots of fun, flirty fun and soft fluffy fluff

Thank you to Esquire for these amazing photo! 🥰

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Are you ever going to give that back to him?” your friend Dan asks as you shrug on the soft leather jacket.

You press your nose to the collar and inhale, lifting your shoulders with a contented sigh before replying, “nope!” with a pop of the p.

“He’s already outside” your other friend and coworker, Jade exclaims excitedly.

It had been a long and boring week of work at the bar and no Joel. He had been away on a trip and had only just returned today.

His first stop was you.

You grab your small bag and rush out the door of the backroom, waving goodbye before nearly running to the front door of the bar.

You can already hear the rev of engines and when you step into the afternoon sunshine you immediately look for him.

When at first you don’t spot him your eyes move to the row of bikes and you scope them out, certain you’ll be able to find his quickly.

Then your eyes land on the black and sleek bike, big, but not overly decorated and with giant shiny tailpipes off the back.

“Hi sunshine.”

You spin around and meet his eyes.

A week was too long.

His broad shoulders and muscular arms are on full display and his thick thighs are straining against his tight dark wash jeans.

His eyes hold you hostage and you feel a rush of warmth all over your body before you launch yourself into his arms. He catches you easily and buries his face in your neck.

“Joel,” you whisper, finally releasing your tight grip and sliding down his body.

He wastes no time kissing you and you hear the loud whistles and whoops of the rest of the guys behind you.

Your fingertips slip into his vest and you brush them over his warm skin, toying with his chain. You give it a light tug and he moans against your lips, sliding his hands down to your ass.

The hollers get louder.

“As much as these fuckers would love a show, I ain’t givin’ it to ‘em darlin’,” he grumbles, but his expression is warm. “Been waiting to see you all week. Let’s go.”

You wave at the guys over his shoulder and get nods and winks in return before Joel grabs your helmet.

“Thank fuck we’re back,” one of the guys yells in Joel’s direction. “We’ve had to deal with his grumpy ass for a week!”

You barely contain your giggle but try to hide your face in Joel’s chest.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up fuckers,” he scoffs and then dips his head to kiss your smiling lips.

When you lift your head he plops his helmet on top and throws you a lopsided smirk.

You ignore the guys and the rest of their playful jabs and ask, “how come you never wear one?”

“I do,” he says, “for longer rides.”

“Then how come I have to?” you pout.

“Because if anything happened to his beautiful face I’d never forgive myself,” he simpers before grabbing your chin and kissing you again.

“And we need to zip this up, the wind is chilly.”

He pulls his jacket more tightly around your body and takes the zipper between his fingers, slowly dragging it up.

“Dan asked if I was ever going to give his back to you…I’ve been wearing it all week and I plan on keeping it.”

You smile with feigned innocence and he tugs you closer until his lips are brushing yours and whispers, “good, this way everyone knows you belong to me.”

His words send a shiver down your spine and you press yourself against him with a kiss.

When you break apart he gives your waist a squeeze and chases your lips before throwing his leg over his bike.

He adjusts himself and revs the engine, your breath hitching at how good he looks straddling it.

“Darlin’” he warns, throwing you a no-nonsense look. “Get on.”

You get on behind him and wrap your arms around his stomach.

You’ve gotten used to riding with him but even so nothing compares to when the bike first roars to life and he gets out onto the road to really open the throttle.

You don’t even know where you’re going but it doesn’t matter as you press yourself against his back and enjoy the ride.

He slows when you reach a familiar spot off road and when he pulls down the dirt path and kills the engine your whole face lights up in a smile.

“Are we having another picnic?” you ask when he takes off your helmet.

“Yea we are sunshine,” he answers as he opens one of the saddlebags and pulls out a blanket and a small cooler bag.

You follow him to a spot behind the trees, shady but still sprinkled with the sun’s rays that filter through the leaves. Rolling hills lay in front of you, the pale yellows, vivid greens, and colorful flowers giving them texture and depth.

“It’s so beautiful,” you whisper. “I’ll never get tired of looking at it.”

“It is darlin’,” he replies softly, “and neither will I.”

Feeling the heat of his eyes on your face, you turn to look at him and feel the breath leave your body at the intensity of his stare and when you realize the implication of his words it almost makes you sway on your feet.

He tears his eyes away and lays out the blanket, unloading the bag of goodies.

The moment he settles on the blanket you sit and crawl over to him until he has you in his lap, his arms circling you and his hands smoothing along your back.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he groans against your lips.

Your fingertips comb through his hair and you wiggle in his lap, feeling just how true his words are.

“Actually I do,” you answer with a grin.

He growls playfully and grabs you around the waist, making a smooth move to flip you over and lay you on your back.

“Mm but now I’m gonna show you just how much darlin’.”

And with desperation you match, he kisses you, hungry and with intention as his fingers dance along your inner thigh.

The late afternoon sun is still warm but your bare skin pebbles in the cool breeze. Joel grabs his jacket and drapes it over you, cradling you closer to his chest.

“I need to feed you,” he whispers but doesn’t move.

His free hand is resting behind his head and his other is wrapped around you, his features soft and his eyes closed.

You stare and reach out to stroke his cheek, feeling the welcome soft bristle of his beard against your fingertips.

He catches your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of it. When he releases you, you can’t resist the urge to brush your fingers over his mouth.

Drawing your thumb down his lower lip, you ask, “what’s your favorite color?”

“What?” he asks, bemused.

“Your favorite color? What is it?”

“Hmm,” he muses, looking up at the sky.

Then he lifts a finger and points. “That color.”

“Sky blue,” you say. “Good choice.”

“Yours sunshine?”

“The color of the ocean…turquoise I guess you would call it.”

“I love being by the ocean,” he says softly.

Your fingers move down to his chest and you trace his tattoo before curling them around his chain.

“Favorite book?”

This time he doesn’t wait a moment in answering and says, “The Count of Monte Cristo. I love a good adventure book.”

“That’s one of the best,” you agree, mulling over your answer as he waits to hear it.

“This is a hard one for me,” you explain. “I love books.”

He tucks you closer and ghosts his fingers over your skin, not seeming to care if you take all afternoon to decide.

“The Princess Bride,” you finally say.

“Another adventure and a love story” he adds.

“You’ve read it?” you ask excitedly.

“Definitely. It’s on my top ten list,” he answers.

You settle into him and think of another question as you fingers continue to move over his bare skin.

“Do you want another tattoo?”

He quirks a brow and silently watches your fingers as they smooth over the outline of the ink on his skin.

“I’m sure I’ll get another,” he says, “’specially since you seem to like ‘em so much.”

He grins at you before he winks and gives you a soft kiss.

“What’s the best trip you’ve ever taken on your bike?”

He considers the question for a few seconds and then turns to study your face.

“This trip. This is the best.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your lips parting to say more but he silences any further words with his mouth, the kiss soft and tender before he pulls away and asks, “favorite food?”

Your lips turn up into a smile and you tap your chin.

“Probably pizza…no! Pancakes! Well, maybe waffles? Chicken wings!”

He starts to laugh and rolls you over so he’s settled between your legs and has you pinned to the blanket.

“I think you’re hungry sunshine. Time to eat.”

“But what about you? What’s yours?” you ask as you start to get yourself dressed.

He watches you, his lips twitching with a grin.

“Dessert.”

Once your stomach is full and Joel’s had his dessert, you stretch out on the blanket with a happy sigh.

“You ready for a riding lesson darlin’,” Joel drawls as he absentmindedly runs his calloused fingertips along your arm.

You sit up with widened eyes.

“ME? Ride…your bike?”

“You want to learn right?” he teases. “And I have one more place I want to take you before the sun sets.”

“Maybe you should just ride…it’s probably safer.”

“Nah, come on darlin,’ you can do it.”

He packs up your things and secures them in the saddlebags before helping you into your helmet. His leather jacket is already cocooning you in his warmth and smell but you don’t budge from the spot next to his bike.

“You know how to get on,” he says lightly.

You let out an exhale and look down at your feet.

Strong fingers grip your chin and he lifts your eyes. “Sunshine, you’re gonna be fine and I’m going to be right there with you. I wouldn’t let you ride if I thought it wasn’t ok.”

You nod with renewed determination and swing a leg over the bike. It’s harder to get situated without Joel’s body and it takes you a minute to find your balance.

“Ok, so now what?” you ask, staring at the handlebars.

No answer.

“Joel?”

You turn to catch him staring at you, his eyes dark.

“Sorry darlin,’ but fuck if that isn’t hot as hell…hang on.”

He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture before he drinks you in one last time and saunters over to help.

He explains what all the necessary buttons and levers are and shows you how to start the engine and walk the bike around a bit.

It’s much too big and heavy for you but he’s at your side the whole time and he’s patient and sweet.

“You’re doing so well darlin.’ Gonna have to get you your own bike soon.”

You beam under his praise and he slides on behind you, cradling you between his thighs and resting his arms on either side of yours.

“This isn’t the safest,” he starts, “in fact it’s illegal to ride this way, but it’s just a short trip to where we’re going and it’ll give you a feel of what it’s like to be in the front seat.”

He kisses your neck and holds you securely between his muscular thighs before starting the engine and taking off at a slow speed. You squeal in delight and put your face to the wind.

The short trip takes you uphill until you hit a secluded and narrow road that leads to a dead end.

You don’t hear it until Joel shuts the engine and you take off your helmet.

The smell of the salty sea air and the crash of the waves takes over and you walk to the edge of the small cliff to look down.

The ocean sweeps out to the horizon, it’s blue color dotted with sparkling diamonds every time the sun catches a wave’s crest. Rugged rocks line the shore below and the pink and orange hues of the setting sun glow brightly against the darkening sky.

“It’s not quite turquoise,” Joel whispers as he slides up behind you and wraps you in his arms, holding you against his chest.

“But it’s so beautiful,” you finish as you snuggle closer.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as he turns you in his arms and draws you closer.

“I don’t know why all the guys say you’re so grumpy,” you tease lightly. “You’re such a softie.”

He leans in close, his nose bumping yours before he catches your mouth in a long, slow kiss that leaves you breathless and shaky.

When he pulls away he holds your gaze and it’s like a warm caress that sweeps over your skin. Something sparkles in his eyes, something familiar and his voice is rough with emotion when he murmurs, “I love you sunshine.’”

@sstan-hoe @blackwidownat2814 @justkinsey @laineyreads @beccablogsthings

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #biker!joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #biker!joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #biker au #joel miller au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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sarahwroteathing · 1 year ago

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It’s the Great Pumpkin, Steve Rogers!

[Art Teacher!Steve Rogers x Single Mom!Reader]

Word Count: 3417

Warnings: single mom reader, chaotic bestie Bucky Barnes

Summary: While painting faces at the local harvest festival, Steve sees you and Charlie outside of school for the first time.

A/N: I’m baaaaaaack! Did ya miss me?

Here’s the previous three installments in the Glitterverse, in case you missed them or need a refresh!

Glitter Cool Kid Table Silver Star

Steve was in the very serious process of adding purple stripes to a charmingly cartoonish spider he’d painted on a little boy’s cheek when the sound of a bright, happy laugh caught his attention. There was nothing too unusual about that, honestly. He liked seeing people happy, whether he knew them or not, and there had been no shortage of happiness at the Harvest Festival so far.

The apple bobbing tent was a pretty reliable source of laughter of the triumphant, self-deprecating, and “No, I swear, I’m not laughing at you” varieties.

The pumpkin carving tables were another happiness hotspot as people giggled over each other’s designs and gave the nervous laughs of people utterly unsure of the sharp implements they were holding.

This particular laugh came from the exit of the corn maze, and Steve did his very best to ignore the little flutter in his chest when he recognized you, cozy and carefree in an oversized sweater and scarf, spinning a giggling Charlie in increasingly wobbly circles until you both fell onto a nearby hay bale.

“We did it!” he heard you shout, raising both arms above your head.

Charlie’s voice was too soft to catch at this distance, but whatever she said made you laugh again and tug her against your side.

“Excuse me? Are you done?”

Steve’s eyes snapped forward again, and he fought a flush of embarrassment as he smiled at the boy who was now starting to squirm restlessly on his stool.

“Sorry, almost,” he said. “One second.”

Steve added one last stripe before setting down his paintbrush and reaching for the small mirror tucked between the paint bottles and paper cups. He held it up with a playful flourish that earned him a giggle.

“What do you think?”

The boy inspected his cheek closely, squinting his eyes for a moment before giving a decisive nod.

“It’s good.”

Steve gave the boy a parting smile as he raced back to his grandfather, who was waiting near the donation table and chatting with Bucky.

The same Bucky Barnes, best friend and bane of his existence, who was now cheerfully waving them off and approaching Steve with such a casual smile that it was immediately suspicious.

“That last one was barely even a masterpiece, Steve. Are you okay? Coming down with something?”

“Still better than you could do,” he said pointedly, rearranging the paint bottles and rinsing off the brushes he’d used.

“Rude. I knew something was going on with you,” Bucky said, plopping himself down on a stool and fixing Steve with an expectant look.

“No, there's not. Now move unless you want me to paint your face.”

“Are you sure you could focus for long enough to paint my face?”

Steve narrowed his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky only smiled.

“I have this sixth sense that tells me when scary things are happening. Like when all the birds go quiet. Or the clouds look freaky. Or Steve Rogers stares longingly at a woman.”

“What are you- I wasn’t-”

“You. Staring. Beautiful woman. I saw it.”

And Steve knew full well he was betraying himself by glancing towards you again, but it was an impulse he didn’t have time to suppress. You were at a stall this time, talking cheerfully with a baker, a basket hanging from the crook of your arm and Charlie’s hand in yours.

“I’m not… staring. I just…”

You were laughing again, and the baker, a rosy cheeked older woman, handed a loaf of bread over the table to you with a fond smile.

“Wait, do you know her?” Bucky demanded, recapturing Steve’s attention when he smacked him on the arm.

“I… yeah.”

Now well into October, Steve not only saw you every weekday, he also occasionally texted you on weekends. It was never much, only instigated when one of you happened across something that reminded you of the other person. A picture of the mug of apple cider that Bucky had unceremoniously dumped way too much edible glitter in. A picture of your kitchen table covered in old newspapers to protect it from your and Charlie’s watercolor experiments. It was nothing, really. But it made him happy.

“Her?” Bucky repeated, brows raising as he turned to look over his shoulder at you.

“Ye- Please, stop pointing. Yes.”

“Fluffy sweater, cute kid? Her?”

“Bucky.”

“Looking like she just stepped out of a fairytale with a basket of apples, bread, and what I assume is jars of either honey or jam or both?”

“Why are you freaking out?” Steve sighed.

“Because you didn’t tell me about her!”

Steve pursed his lips. “I wasn’t aware you wanted to hear about all my students’ parents.”

Bucky was thoroughly unamused.

“Steve. You told me when you changed dish soap, but you didn’t tell me that you’re now living a romance novel. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Steve said, wacking him with a roll of paper towels. “Bucky, there are kids.”

“What the fudgesicle is wrong with you?” Bucky repeated in an identical tone.

“My life is not a romance novel. Take it easy. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” he answered with a humorless laugh. “But you didn’t tell me about her. Which means you’re considering something that you’re not sure you should be considering. And you knew that if you told me, I would easily talk you into it.”

Steve took a moment to process that, glancing over at you again and straightening up in surprise when he caught your eye. You smiled, wide and genuine, raising a hand in a greeting that he quickly mirrored.

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve said quickly when you had turned away again, only half paying attention now because you were talking to Charlie, gesturing in his direction.

“I agree. But I’m right.”

You were walking their way now, and this conversation needed to be over right now.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pain in the ass?”

“Steven. Please. The children.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the apple?”

“You. Fairly often. And Sam even more often. But luckily his opinion means nothing to me.”

And while there were a hundred things Steve would love to say about that, there wasn’t time.

“Bucky, I swear, we can talk about it for as long as you want later, but right now I need you to act like a normal human being,” he said urgently.

“Is she right behind me?”

“About to be.”

“Fine.”

Bucky plastered on an only slightly manic smile as he turned to greet you.

“Hello! Interested in some face paint?”

You seemed caught off guard by the exuberant greeting, but recovered quickly.

“I think so, yes. How much?”

“Free! But we’re also collecting donations for the Woodbridge Elementary art program.”

“I see,” you said, eyes flickering to Steve for a moment. “Well, we kinda like the art program, don’t we?”

“Yep!” Charlie said, also peeking around Bucky to offer a tiny smile to Steve.

“Alright then. Go ahead and tell Steve what you want, and I’ll take care of the money stuff.”

You followed Bucky a few steps away to the donation table, and Charlie skipped up to him.

“Hi,” she said, waiting for him to pat the open stool before sitting down.

“Hi, Charlie. Know what you want yet, or do you want to look at some pictures?”

“Umm…” Her forehead scrunched a little as she thought. “Can you do a cat with a witch hat? Is that too hard? You can just do a pumpkin if that’s too hard.”

“Well, I think a cat with a witch hat is an awesome idea!” Steve said with a smile. “I’ll do my best, and if it doesn’t turn out right, we can try something else. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” she said with a nod.

Steve set out some clean brushes, a new cup of water, and a clean paper towel.

“What color cat?”

“Orange?”

He nodded, setting up little dixie cups of orange, black, yellow, brown, and green paint.

“Alright, are you ready? It’s going to feel a little cold.”

“I’m ready! I’ll be real still,” she vowed, clenching her hands into determined little fists on her knees.

Steve started with a few dabs of color until Charlie relaxed a little, used to the sensation.

“Are you having fun at the festival?” he asked a few moments later, tracing the outline of a cat on her cheek.

“Yeah! We did the maze without a map! And we got bread for later. Mom’s making spaghetti for dinner!”

“Yum! Do you like spaghetti?”

“It’s my favorite. Mom always makes cheesy bread.”

“Well, this is going to be a good day then, huh? What else are you going to do?”

“Umm, we still have to pick our pumpkins! And, there are these earrings mom really likes over at the corn maze, but she won’t buy them. I think she should buy them.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve glanced over at the stall near the entrance to the corn maze. He’d spoken to that woman before a few times. She was a local artist who liked to make jewelry and print her abstract watercolor art on scarves. “What do they look like?”

“Like shiny green rocks and little gold leaves. She’ll look like a fairy.”

Steve smiled at the admiration in her voice, but before he could say anything, you wandered back over with Bucky.

“Oh my goodness. Charlie, you’re a masterpiece!”

She smiled proudly as Steve added a last little detail to the cat’s witch hat before leaning back.

“All done,” he said, holding up the mirror for her. “What do you think?”

Her eyes widened along with her smile.

“It’s perfect! Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Your turn,” Charlie said, hopping up from the stool and nudging you towards it.

“Is that allowed?” you laughed.

“If you want, then of course it is,” Steve said with an easy smile.

You turned to Charlie, smiling at her eager nod.

“Alright then. What should I get?”

“We could match! Or get an even bigger cat. Ooo! A tiger!”

“You heard the lady. One tiger in a witch hat, please,” you laughed, dropping into the stool beside Steve and setting your basket and purse down on the ground beside you.

“Mama, can I get my book?” Charlie asked, eyes on your purse.

“Yeah, of course. Big pocket.”

“There’s an extra chair at the donation table if you don’t mind sitting next to me,” Bucky told her as she liberated her book from your very full purse.

Charlie smiled a little shyly and nodded, following Bucky back to the donation table with a parting wave to you.

“How did I end up with the best kid in the world?” you asked, eyes following Charlie as Steve set up the paints.

“Mm, you and Tony might have to fight about that one.”

“Aw, Morgan is pretty great. I’m surprised she’s not here! It seems like the kind of thing she’d love.”

“They’re coming tomorrow, I think. Don’t be surprised if Pepper calls later to invite Charlie,” Steve said with a smile, dabbing orange paint onto a clean brush. “You ready?”

“Mhmm. Make me pretty, Mr. Rogers.”

“You manage that on your own. I’m just adding a pretty tiger,” he said quietly, fighting down a blush when you glanced at him with surprise.

He cleared his throat.

“Try not to move,” he said, hoping the cold paint would distract you as he began.

“Not moving. One of my favorite activities,” you said with a flicker of a smile.

“For a not-mover, I hear you did pretty great in the corn maze.”

“Oh, that was all Charlie. If it was just me, I’d still be lost in there somewhere. Probably crying.”

Steve laughed.

“I’m sure someone would have saved you eventually.”

“Don’t know about that. I don’t imagine anyone having much sympathy for an adult sobbing alone in a corn maze.”

“Well, fine, then I would’ve saved you,” Steve said, catching an errant wind-blown strand of your hair before it could land in the wet paint. He tucked it gently behind your ear.

Sitting this close to you, he heard your breath catch slightly, saw your blink land a little harder than normal.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “Didn’t want you to get paint in your hair.”

“Already saving me,” you said with a quiet little laugh. “You have a habit of doing that.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“I don’t think I do. Saving someone doesn’t have to be some huge gesture. It can be something like… Cheering me up at an open house. Looking out for Charlie and making her smile every day. Giving someone grumpy a sticker. Being a friend,” you ventured, giving a delicate shrug so as not to move too much.

Steve’s heart gave a little flutter, gave him permission to brush your hair back from your face again, though none of it was in danger of dragging through paint this time.

“I like being your friend.”

“I like it too,” you said quietly.

Steve took a breath, less steady than he would have preferred, as he added one final dab of paint.

“Ready to see?”

“Absolutely.”

You called Charlie back to your side as Steve held up the mirror for you. You beamed at your reflection.

“Love it!”

“Good.”

The three of you exchanged a few more pleasantries before you and Charlie headed off into the crowds again. Bucky wasted no time. They were barely out of earshot when he dropped into the stool in front of Steve with an expectant grin.

“Go away,” Steve sighed. “Unless you want me to paint your face.”

“Oh, sure. Paint little hearts all over it. Then it’ll match yours,” he said smugly.

“Stop.”

“I like being your friend,” Bucky quoted in a dramatic voice. “Do you know how many times you’ve said that to me? None. None times. We’ve been friends since we were five, Steve.”

“Yeah, because I don’t like being your friend. You’re annoying.”

“She’s pretty. She’s nice. She’s fun. She’s not wearing a ring, and she didn’t mention anything about a partner. Her daughter is the chillest kid I’ve ever been around. What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, Bucky.”

“Then why are you not attached at the lips? Does she have the plague? Do you have the plague?”

“She has a daughter. She doesn’t date.”

That, at least, finally shut Bucky up. He narrowed his eyes, thinking for a moment.

“Did she tell you that?”

“Tony told me that. Not that I asked.”

“And Tony heard it from…?”

“Pepper.”

“Who heard it from…?”

Steve gestured in the direction you’d walked.

“Hmm…”

“She doesn’t feel comfortable bringing men around Charlie.”

“She brings you around Charlie.”

“I’m her art teacher. It’s not the same.”

Bucky tapped restlessly at the table for another moment.

“I’m gonna think about this and get back to you.”

“Oh, please do,” Steve said sarcastically.

“Hey,” Bucky nudged him until he made eye contact, his expression much more serious now. “I mean it. You really like her, don’t you?”

“...Yeah,” Steve said with a helpless shrug. “So I’m happy to be her friend.”

“You really like her,” Bucky repeated firmly. “So we’ll figure it out. Because I’m pretty sure she likes you too.”

“Thanks Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, pushing up from the stool and knocking Steve’s shoulder with a light punch. “There’s a reason you keep me around, you know. Now stop frowning. You’re scaring the children.”

Things returned to business as usual for about an hour. Steve painted a dozen more faces, had just finished a matching set of bumblebees on a tiny redhead and her grandmother when Bucky came jogging over again.

“Go, go, go!” he said urgently, shoving Steve out of his seat.

“What, why? Go where?” Steve asked, barely catching himself before he could hit the ground.

Bucky didn’t answer, grabbing the top of Steve’s head to steer his eyes in the right direction.

You and Charlie were laboring towards the parking lot, Charlie weighed down with a basket, tote bag, and your purse while you were nearly doubled over, rolling an enormous pumpkin across the patchy grass.

“Absolutely not,” he said quietly to himself, dodging around the edge of his table and running your direction.

“Whatcha got there?” he laughed, easily catching up to the two of you.

“The great pumpkin!” Charlie chimed in as you gave another shove to your regretfully chosen and mightily overgrown gourd.

“Are you sure? It’s not even sparkly,” Steve said, squinting speculatively.

“She’s sure,” you said, straightening up for a moment and swiping your hands on your jeans. “So we are escorting him to the car the best way we can. Him?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.

“Him.”

“Him,” you repeated, gesturing matter-of-factly at the pumpkin.

“Got it. And would your giant orange gentleman like another escort to ease his journey?”

You made a face like you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and settled for flinging your arms around him in a loose hug.

“God, please. I will give you all the money in my wallet. I’ll give you my credit card. Would you like my social security number?”

Steve laughed, gently returning your hug for a brief moment before turning to face the pumpkin.

“Alright, pal. Let’s get you where you need to be.”

He squatted low to get his arms under it, straightened up with a low grunt as he hefted it up, leaning back slightly to take some of the weight on his chest. It wasn’t too heavy for him to manage, but the size and shape made it awkward to hold. Once he had it reasonably secure, he looked to you for direction, finding both you and Charlie staring at him with eyes as wide as you could make them.

“Tell me where I’m going. I can’t see too well over this guy.”

You snapped into action then, taking your purse and basket from Charlie.

“Charlie, steer,” you said, pointing at Steve. “I’ll run and pull the car around.”

Charlie took up her station beside Steve, her hand on his elbow. You took off towards the parking lot, digging in your purse as you ran.

“What are you going to name him?” Steve asked as Charlie gently steered him around clusters of oblivious people standing between him and the festival entrance.

“I don’t know yet,” she said thoughtfully. “I didn’t think mom would say yes.”

“Let me know when you decide! I’m sure you’ll think of a great one.”

“Are you okay? Is it too heavy?” she checked anxiously.

“I’m alright,” he said with a laugh.

You only kept them waiting for a minute before pulling up to the front entrance, popping the trunk before running over to them.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said breathlessly, placing your hands on the pumpkin to help stabilize as Steve lowered it into the trunk of your car.

“No problem,” he said, brushing his hands clean on his jeans, sighing when he noticed the drips of paint he’d managed to get on them.

“Thank you, Mr. Steve,” Charlie said, hesitating for a moment before giving him a quick hug and fleeing to the back seat.

Your eyes were soft as you stared after her, mouth curled into an amused smile.

“She’s never hugged me before,” Steve said quietly, feeling kind of like his heart might explode.

“Sweet girl. Did she call you Mr. Steve?” you asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, I told her she could just call me Steve outside of class. That’s the closest she’s gotten.”

“So cute,” you said with a sigh, shaking your head as if to clear it. “Anyway, thank you so much for your help. And for the face paint.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“It was nice seeing you,” you said warmly, squeezing his arm in goodbye as you took a step back toward the car. “Outside of school, I mean.”

“Nice seeing you too. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. And hey, if you decide to come back tomorrow with the Starks, come say hi before you leave.”

“I’ll let you know.”

You waved before settling back into the driver’s seat, and Steve backed towards the festival entrance, only turning to head back to the face paint table when you had driven away.

At the last second, he swerved towards the jewelry booth, in search of shiny green rocks and little gold leaves.

---------------------

A slice of fall in June. Hope you enjoyed it! Would love, love, love to hear what you think of this little development!

As always, reblogs, replies, and asks make my world go round. Can’t do what I do without you!

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tieronecrush · 1 year ago

Text

hot & heavy

chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 9.5k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, small use of spanish cause joel is latino, pining joel, fingering, hand-job, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft soft soft joel, sprinkle of possessive joel, Big Feelings, crying, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, signing away parental rights, effects of that situation on children, major guilt form both of 'em, this chapter has some heavier angst than before!

a/n: they're baaaaaaack <333 my babies! it's 2005 and summer #3 is officially underway and i can't wait to share it with you all. thank you so very much to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, and for shouting about these two with me. enjoy y'all x

You can count on your two hands the number of times you’ve been able to talk to Joel over the last year. Sarah’s schedule going into third grade was much busier, his work picking up even more business and expanding. Your job was demanding — long hours, coming in early and staying late, rejection after rejection of ideas you excitedly pitched. By a few months in, you took the hint: you were there to get coffees, do the grunt work, fill in the gaps even if it wasn’t in your job description. It wasn’t that you had a problem with doing all of those things; anyone in the industry, basically anyone with a corporate job has told you that you have to do your time, climb the rungs of the ladder to get to where you want to be. But it’s hard to justify a job that has taken you away from the one place that feels like home, the people who make you feel loved.

It came in waves at first, that feeling of heavy limbs, slogging thoughts, the perpetual cinch of your chest as if you were going to cry, with no reason to. In summer, it was easy to blame it on homesickness, adjusting to a new city, or getting used to living with your new roommates. The leaves changing brought new symptoms: staying in over the weekends, curled up in bed with the TV playing cable reruns for 48 hours straight, the lull of sleep overcoming you at odd hours. But this was merely because the cold was creeping in, and the daylight hours were waning.

Joel called one winter evening; well, the Caller ID read his name, but upon answering the phone, you were quick to realize it was someone else.

“Hello?”

“Posey, you answered! Hi!”

“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’s going on?” You find the means to prop yourself up on your pillows, turning down the volume of the TV and curling your knees toward your chest.

“Not too much, I asked Daddy if I could call you and he said yes, so I did! I was sad you couldn’t be home for Christmas last month. Santa brought me lots of presents! Oh, and Daddy took me to Disney World with Uncle Tommy after Christmas before school started again!”

Sarah’s chipper voice is scraping nails against your heart, tightening your lungs until all you can manage is shallow breaths. You hold it together long enough to hear about all her presents and the Miller family trip before you hear Joel in the background, coaxing the phone from his daughter.

“Daddy says he wants to talk to you so I have to give the phone to him. Bye, Posey, miss you!”

“Miss you too, sweet pea,” you choke out, sinking further into your bed with eyes filling with tears. You should be overjoyed to be hearing from Sarah; instead, it fills you with a reminder that you have no idea when you’ll see her again, no clue how to try to make yourself love this place.

“Hey, Mari.”

The sound of his voice was syrupy, the drawl in his tone basking you in the Texas sun that you missed so. He was like the warmth of a bonfire, the summer breeze messing with your hair while you rode in his truck with the windows down. Hearing him was like sinking into his mattress for the night, a solid, weighted arm slung around you safely.

“Hi, Joel.”

“Gotta say thank you again for the watch you sent me for my birthday. I know, you’re going to say that I’ve already said it about ten times but I need to do it again 'cause I just like havin’ a reminder of you every day.”

“You’re welcome,” your voice wavers slightly, and you make a quick attempt to recover with a deep breath.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

No, not now, you can’t break now, you have to make it through the phone call.

Your tongue sits heavy in your mouth, your ears growing hot and tears pricking your eyes in pain as you hold it all in. One sniffle comes over you before you can catch it, concern lacing the other end of the call.

“Hey, darlin’—Hold on.”

Muffled thumps of footsteps heading upstairs crackle through the phone, the creak and click of a door closing popping in your ear pressed to the speaker.

“Sorry, I had to come up to my room. Now, what’s wrong, darlin’?” Joel’s gentle, airy tone breaks the final splinter of the dam, emotion overflowing.

“I shouldn’t let it all get to me, but, work has been awful, like all I've done this week is get coffee and take minutes for meetings, which don’t even get used because they have someone that gets to actually participate taking the minutes. And—and I can’t seem to find my place. My roommates are way closer with each other cause they’ve been working together before and at the office, it’s so cliquey and everybody keeps calling my accent cute—“

Attempting to make you smile, Joel interjects, “It is cute, sweetheart.”

“Well, you can say that ‘cause you’ve got one too. They just call me ‘Texas’ or ‘Y’all’ cause I said it once in front of the group. These people are all from around here, from generations of East Coast families and they know all about life here and constantly try to one-up each other and I can’t do it, Joel. I can’t—It’s too hard. It hurts so much.”

You’ve fully got tears streaming down your face, your voice thick with phlegm, and sniffling from your runny nose.

“Oh, my sweet girl…” There’s a strain in his voice too, covered with a stuttered clearing sound. “Mariposa, my Mariposa, you can do It. I know it’s hard, I know. And mean people don’t make the adjustment any easier, but remember you’re the bigger person. Kill ‘em with kindness, baby.”

“It breaks my heart to hear you’re hurtin’, Mari. But you can do it. You’re smart, beautiful, funny, tough…Are you—are you talkin’ to anybody, sweetheart? A professional?”

“No…” you confess meekly, embarrassed by your lack of effort.

“It’s okay, baby, that’s okay. Maybe we can find you someone, alright? Might help to get out of the house, go see them, talk to them. We’ll find you someone, Mari. Promise.”

“Joel, I don’t want you to worry about me. You don’t have to help me find—“

“I want to. I worry about you constantly, mi amor. It’s hard not to when half of my heart’s across the country.” Silence falls over the line, picking up your hand to wipe at your tears.

“Thank you, Joel.”

“I love you, Mariposa. Always going to.”

That was the last major phone call you had with him. He did help you find someone, a therapist, to talk to. But through them, you had come to the decision that this life wasn’t for you; corporate bullshit was leaving you burned out and defeated, and it was cooking up an unstable environment that let your sadness and disappointment fester into depressive episodes.

After that discovery, the choice was made and you phoned your parents to tell them you were planning on coming home at the end of your first-year contract if they would have you. They agreed, of course, to welcome you back home for as long as you need.

You couldn’t bring yourself to call Joel. Hearing his disappointment in your quitting would ruin you. And, you couldn’t blame him if he got a bit angry either. You ran off and chose this life, and when it turned out to be shit, you were running home with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. He expected so much from you and was so proud of you for choosing your dreams.

You couldn’t bear to tell him about your failure. So you didn’t.

Arrangements were made in the next few months: a replacement roommate found, a letter of resignation submitted, a one-way plane ticket purchased.

Joel wipes at his forehead, standing in the middle of the job site he was working by himself. It was rare for him to really get his hands dirty these days; Miller Construction has grown tenfold since it started, a wider team built and Joel taking the helm as more of a manager and owner. He had a hand in every project, being the one to design and plan everything, leaving the execution to be led by Tommy and his employees.

This was a particular job, though, and one he wanted to make sure was perfect.

Your dad had approached him in early Spring, walking over while Joel mowed the lawn. He explained what he was looking to get done — the basement converted into a studio apartment, with a new bathroom and kitchenette.

Joel agreed to help with the task, and out of curiosity he asked why they were making the change. Usually, it was in-laws, but maybe it was to increase the sale value. Maybe they were planning a move?

He heard it and zoned out immediately.

You? You were moving home?

He wracked his brain for any mention of these plans from you over the last few months, but he came up short when he realized it had been a couple of months since the last phone call. Life had gotten so busy, evenings spent with lawyers and Sarah home every weekend, trying to adjust her to the new arrangement as best as he could. There was his own news he had to tell you, but couldn’t ever find the right time to reach out when he knew how stressed out you were. He remembered missing a call from you, but he completely forgot to return it. Were you going to tell him then?

The phone call he made to you that night went to voicemail, and he left one in hopes you would return a call or message.

“Hey, Mariposa… Hope you’re doing well, amor. Your dad, uh, he came over today and asked me for help on the house. They wanna make the apartment a basement and—shit you definitely already know all of this… Are you—are you coming home?”

He couldn’t stand how he sounded, on the verge of begging and filled with nerves, so the voicemail ended after he asked. You didn’t return the call.

Standing back looking at his handiwork, he takes a deep breath. He’s poured over the decisions for every detail, your parents entrusting him with the project completely. He matched the floors to the rest of your house, but the walls are a soft green, one accented with wallpaper he painstakingly installed that is patterned with lavender, marigolds, and hydrangeas — small butterflies hidden in the flowers.

At one side of the studio space, Joel installed the bookshelf he made by hand in his garage, the built-in coming up halfway on the wall, molding covering the surface, and stained a rich, medium tone that complemented the paint choice. He imagined your rows and rows of beat-up paperbacks filling the spaces, knickknacks strewn along the top.

Your furniture was moved down from your bedroom, arranged by your mom to fit nicely within the space. It feels like you’re already living in this space, the touches of you from your things and the new items he tried to get perfectly ‘you’. A faint smile tugs at his lips, excitement trickling into his bloodstream and tingling all over.

You’re coming home.

The first day you were back, you didn’t leave your new room.

It was out of exhaustion, but mostly out of relishing in the new space, nearly brought to tears by the thoughtfulness of your parents. When they were showing you the new studio suite of yours, you couldn’t stop smiling, turning to your mom and asking, “How did you choose the paint color? And where’d you get the bookshelf?”

Your mom laughed, shrugging as she answered, “Believe it or not, Dad and I were so busy these last few months that we told Joel just to go wild! Well, not wild, but he made all the choices — only ran the cost by us.”

“Wait, Joel did this?”

“Oh yeah, did the whole thing for free labor, too. Stand up guy. Said he just wanted to help out a neighbor — and he did the whole thing himself too, none of his guys helped him. He did a great job, huh kiddo?” Your Dad gives you a grin, extending his arms as if showcasing the room you three were already in and poking around in.

“Yeah, he did do a great job. Guess I need to thank him…” You swallow hard and toy with your bedspread as you sit at the edge of your bed, one leg bent onto the mattress, “Thank you both for this and—and for letting me come home.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo. We love having you here, always. You stay however long you need, princess.” At that, it was simply closed, your parents never pushing for more detail than you were willing to offer at the time; both gave you a kiss on your head and a tender hug before they made their way back upstairs, leaving you to begin unpacking.

A fresh set of eyes rolls over the space, the context that each choice was Joel’s, made for you, lighting up small details. The color of the wood he used for the shelves, the wallpaper covered in your favorite flowers and butterflies; what catches your attention is a frame set on the surface of the built-ins. You pick it up, free hand jumping to your chest as you study the content.

A drawing, signed in the bottom right corner by a “Sarah M.” It’s of a garden, lush greenery with an opening in the middle. Joel stands at one side, with dark hair and a scribbled beard, Sarah in the middle with her bouncy curls. On the other side of Sarah is a depiction of you in your sundress from the day at the butterfly garden last summer. The closest thing to a photo of the three of you.

Placing the frame back where you had found it, you hold back your tears, rubbing circles in your thumping chest as you look around the room for five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

At the third out of four things you can touch, your eyes fall to your bed, pink plaid poking out from between your pillows drawing you nearer. You pull out the shape from your bedding, coming face to face with the long-eared, stuffed bunny that you passed down to Sarah last year. Flopsy.

You curl the animal into your chest, squeezing it as you climb onto your bed and lie down. Bringing it up to your face, you inhale the smell of the Miller house, the smell of your previous summers. It calms your rapid pulse, each deep breath lulling you to sleep.

Somehow, despite being each other’s next-door neighbors, you’ve managed to avoid Joel and he’s avoided you for the last few days. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking about him — no, you were constantly thinking about him. Driving past his house, walking past his driveway, every time you wake up in your room and are faced with all of what he did for you.

But finally seeing him, talking to him, you were going to be faced with the reality of telling him that you couldn’t make it, even with all of his support. The thought of watching his face fall when you have to admit you moved across the country for what amounted to nothing, broke his heart for dreams that ended up being the opposite of what you wanted.

Joel avoided you, simply to give you some time to adjust and also, to skirt around the fact that he wasn’t there for you when you must have needed him the most. Plus, he had his own news to share with you, and he kept it in to keep you from worrying. He knew if he had told you then, when you were away, you would be on the next flight home to help him. He couldn’t make you do that, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to you coming either. And now, he’ll have to admit all of this to you — to tell you that he kept this from you and watched your face fall into hurt.

This sunny Saturday morning, you’ve taken to walking door to door with all of the parents in the neighborhood, offering yourself to babysit or nanny to fill the summer while you figure out what you want to do with your life. Most were surprised to see you back home, but eager to take down your number, promising to reach out if they needed help.

On your way back home, you’re on Joel’s side of the cul-de-sac, biting your lip as you get a view of his back in a white tee, shoulders straining as he stretches over the hood of his truck. He squeegees the front windshield, the truck covered in soap suds from him washing it.

As if feeling eyes on him, he turns over his shoulder to see you walking up. Completely turning around, he leans back against the hood, waving to you with a held-back smile. Joel eyes you in your cut-off shorts, licking his lips and humming to himself when he sees his navy t-shirt on you, the one he gave you last summer.

“Now, Miller, I haven’t seen you wash that dirty ass truck once the past two summers. And now you’re out here in your little shorts and white tee as soon as I get back? Suspicious.”

On his driveway now, you stand a few feet apart, a bright teasing smile on your face. Joel can’t help but feel the familiar itch in his fingers, gripping the squeegee tighter. His butterfly is back in his stomach, stirring to life as its wings start fluttering at the sight of you, rising to his chest at the sound of your voice.

“Bit suspicious that this is the first time you just so happen to stop by to say hello, is it not, Mariposa?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, smirk tugging up one side of his lips and exposing his dimple.

“Wha—Oh, shut up. I was stopping by to offer to help you, for your information.”

“Oh yeah? Alright then, grab a sponge, sweetheart,” he nods to the bucket on the asphalt, tossing the squeegee into the grass. You pick up a sponge out of the bucket, ringing it out a bit before going over and starting to wash the other side of his car. Joel disappears around the side of the house, coming back with the hose running water to rinse the car off.

“Think you missed a spot, Joel,” you giggle, moving the sponge in circles.

“Y’know what? I think I missed a really big spot. Kind of on the other side by you.” He’s got a devilish smirk painting his face, mischief glinting his eyes in the sunlight. He stalks around the car, moving his thumb toward the end of the hose.

“Joel, don’t you dare…”

“What, darlin’? You look a little hot. Think you need to cool down.”

“Joel! Don’t, you shithead!”

In a last-ditch effort, you toss your sponge at his chest before trying to run away. It’s fruitless, shrieking as you feel the cold water spray at your legs. You turn around to face Joel chasing you with the hose, his thumb at the end to make the water pressure higher and shoot farther. It’s as if it’s raining, the water dripping from above; you cup your hands over your head, closing your eyes as you attempt to avoid the spray.

“Okay, okay! I've cooled down, please!”

All you hear is a laugh in response, the sound multiplying the goosebumps that the cold water has caused. With your eyes squeezed shut, you're blind as you run around the car, hitting directly into something solid, sturdy, but much softer than metal. A small ‘oof’ exhales out, one arm wrapping around you to steady you.

Opening your eyes, you see Joel with a wide, childish grin and a deepened dimple on his right cheek. The crinkles next to his eyes are showing and you can see the wet spot in his white shirt from the sponge hitting him.

“May I propose a treaty?”

“If it keeps you from spraying me with the hose, sure.”

He laughs again, sliding his hand across your back.

“You come over tonight and I won’t spray you again.”

“Hmm,” you hum as you consider it, eyes widening as Joel moves to get the hose on you again, “Okay, deal! Hose down, Miller!”

Happily, Joel throws the hose into the grass, tightening his arm in a half-hug. His lips as your ear, he speaks sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Good to have you home, Mari.”

You help him clean up the rest after he finishes rinsing the truck and shuts off the hose, lingering with him on the driveway.

He nods inside with a smile, “Someone else’s been waitin’ to see you if you wanna come in for a bit.”

“That would make my day. I’d love to see that someone,” you say through a smile, cheeks hurting from laughing and grinning for the past ten minutes.

Joel leads you inside, spotting Sarah on the couch. He walks ahead of you into the living space, heart swelling at the shocked reaction Sarah has to you standing in their house.

You are feeling the same — the ache in your bones from the last few months quells once you step foot in their house, limbs lightening when Sarah jumps off the couch and runs over, or well, runs into you.

“Posey! I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah exclaims, giggling excitedly when you scoop her up into a hug and hold her flush against you. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, a familiar scent in her hair from the product you use. You exchanged equally ecstatic greetings before she pulled you into the kitchen with Joel, sitting at the table to chat. Sarah sits across your lap, kicking her feet as she asks a million questions about why, how, what, and more.

You answer all of them, Joel interjecting for some as you explain to her that you’ll be here for the whole summer, at least, and that you’ll still be right next door.

Rubbing her back, you look down at Sarah with a gentle smile, “I have been meaning to come to ask you, sweet pea, but I found a mutual friend of ours on my bed when I came home. How did Flopsy end up back at my house? Did he get lost while your dad was working on my new room?”

“No, he isn’t lost! I know he’s there cause I put him there. I thought you might’ve missed him, and that he might make you happy and cheer you up because Daddy said you were missing home.”

Joel was unaware of the animal his daughter left behind, swallowing hard as she mentioned how he explained you were feeling homesick back then when you two had talked. His eyes are glued to you as he watches the emotions in your eyes, sadness flashing in them before you recover, visibly sitting up and the corners of your mouth tugging up into a gentle smile.

“He made me feel much better, sweet pea, so thank you. I can bring him back next time, okay?”

Sarah shakes her head firmly, making strong eye contact with you as she says, “No, you should keep him 'cause maybe you might need him while you get used to being home. He helped me get used to staying with Daddy all the time now, so I thought he could help you be at home again, too.”

You glance at Joel, who’s looking away from you now and toying with the edge of a placemat that’s laid out on the surface. Sarah turns her head, looking between the two of you before Joel clears his throat.

“Hey Bug, we gotta head out to get you over to Emily’s house for your sleepover tonight. Can you go get your bag from upstairs? And say goodbye to Posey.”

A quick hug and she is zipping off, leaving the two adults sitting at the table in a moment of silence. It’s Joel who breaks it again, looking at you with something unreadable on his face.

“You’re coming over tonight, yeah? I—I, um, I think we have some catching up to do.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up and he follows you to the door, taking your hand in his to pull you back as your hand reaches for the doorknob.

“It is really good to have you home, Mariposa. Feels like—I don’t know, life feels like summer again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” you lean in, stretching up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door and into your backyard.

At sunset, you slip out of the sliding glass door, walking across the pool area and into Joel’s backyard. Climbing up his deck stairs, you reach his back door and knock, biting back a smile when you can see him approaching with a puzzled expression. He opens the door, looking at you through the screen with a brown raised.

“Back door? This a new thing now?”

“S’closer to my new room.” You shrug and knock your knuckles on the metal frame of the screen door. Joel nods for you to step back, opening the door and holding it for you to come inside, shutting it and the windowed, wooden door behind it. Turning around to you, he steps forward, snaking his arms around your hips. A soft smile peels apart his lips with a relaxed sigh, leaning some of his weight into you.

“Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

“You smell good,” he says, muffled into your hair, lips pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “And I like that nickname.”

A quiet giggle breathes out from your mouth, hands coasting up and down his biceps. He moves to tuck your head under his chin, swaying back and forth in the middle of his kitchen.

“Thought we had stuff to talk about?” You question, biting your bottom lip and making no move to unfurl yourself from his arms. This is what you had been missing so much, feeling his radiating warmth and care. His tenderness, his love.

“We do. But I get to just hold you first, darlin’. Been waiting too long to do this again.” Squeezing you closer, he tucks his chin in to lay his lips against the top of your head, fingertips ghosting up your spine. It’s at least two minutes before he moves, untangling himself from you with one last kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, mi Mariposa, how about we sit on the couch? You can go first, sweetheart,” his voice crackles in your ears, feeling the reverb in your chest from his low drawl. Hands at your sides guide you into the living room, letting go to allow you to sit down, Joel taking a seat next to you and facing you. “You wanna go first, Mari? S’alright if you don’t…”

“No, I do. I think I should at least…” You sigh and focus your stare on a stitched seam of the back of the couch, tracing it with your fingers as you begin to recount what brought you home, “I don’t know if you remember that one phone call we had in the winter, but it was after that, you helped me find someone to talk to?”

“I remember.”

“Well, I started seeing them weekly, sometimes twice a week, and it helped to be able to talk about everything, but there wasn’t too much I could do to help the situation I was in. My, um, my therapist diagnosed me with depression.”

Your voice was thick, phlegm building up as your emotions started to get the best of you, stare still unfocused from Joel. His hand lays over yours, pulling you away from the movement and to his face. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern and piety. Without any words, he slides closer to you, pulling your legs across his lap and slipping an arm around your back.

“And in our sessions, I wasn’t really getting much better with the tools she was giving to me, so we made a plan. It started with her asking me where I felt the most myself, the most comfortable, where I could work on everything without the added…stress of work and feeling isolated. And then it was a bit of a no-brainer to make arrangements to come home. And—and I meant to call you, I really tried, Joel. But I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I—I failed and that I broke your heart for nothing. You believed in me so much, and I couldn’t do it. I left everything behind, left you behind and nothing came out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to call cause I couldn’t hear your reaction. I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back. If you would be mad or disappointed…”

You exhale with a long breath, tears flowing freely down your cheeks while Joel’s fingers work to wipe them away as quickly as they fall.

“Sweet girl…My Mariposa, I am so sorry you went through that. I’m so glad that you weren’t alone, that you had support, but I hate that I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he swallows and holds you against his chest, “I love you, sweet girl, always going to. I knew you had to go because I knew you might’ve regretted it if you didn’t try, but, darlin’, mi amor, I could give two shits if you live some big corporate life if it doesn’t make you happy. That is all I want for you, Mari, and if that wasn’t what you had up there, then I want you to find it wherever you are.”

You sniffle and wrap your arms around his neck, both of you embracing each other tightly — so tightly you nearly can’t breathe, but it feels comforting, like a weighted blanket over your body and soul.

“Selfishly, I’m glad you came home. Missed you, my sweet girl, and ‘m always gonna be here for you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, I should have been better, but there was just so much happening…” he admits, guilt and shame oozing out of his words and tone.

You pull back, brow furrowed as you hold the side of his jaw.

“Did something happen?”

“Um, yeah. Something did happen, in the spring…” he runs a hand over his face, sighing before he drops his forehead against yours, staying silent for a moment before sitting up again and gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I have full custody of Sarah now.”

He watches as confusion falls over your face, melding into concern as he sees your thought process happening. He knows you’re thinking about Sarah, all of the little things she said earlier this afternoon must be clicking finally. The rhythm of his heart is racing, waiting for your questions.

“What? What happened? How? Are you okay, is Sarah okay?”

“It’s alright, Mari, I’m okay. Sarah’s adjusting. It was just sudden, and I had to scramble to get everything in order while also figuring out how to tell her. I really haven’t told her the truth, I c—I can’t do that to her…” His voice drops to a whisper as he trails off, eyes welling with tears of his own.

“Oh, J, babe, what happened? If you want to tell me, I’m here for you.”

He clears his throat, twisting the handful of fabric he’s got, “Tiff approached me after her last drop off when Sarah was inside the house, and she told me that…She basically said she met someone new, he was movin’ out of state for his job, and she wouldn’t be able to afford her child support anymore. I asked her what she was gettin’ at and she said, she said she wanted to sign her rights away. That she couldn’t do it all anymore.”

“I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sarah that—that her mom didn’t want to take care of her anymore. So I only told her that she would be gone for a while and that she would be staying at home for all her weekends for now. I don’t know what to do, baby. And it was all so chaotic, and I couldn’t call you 'cause I didn’t want to add to your stress with work and life up there.”

In response, you hold yourself around him silently, arms at his neck, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala in a tree. Joel relaxes into you, damp droplets soaking into your shirt and skin as he lays his head on your shoulder. All of his stress, his anxieties come out. He knows he should also be comforting you, for everything you’ve told him, but it’s like a door has opened and everything is piling out of him. He’s held it together for months now, his only person to talk to being Tommy, but he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother with all of his problems all the time.

Not that he wants to do that to you, either, especially with what you’ve been through, but at this moment, all he can think about is your touch, your warmth, your care.

“You could never be anything but an addition to my life, Joel. Even if it’s a problem, I want to help you solve it or be there for you while you work through it. ‘M here now, we both are, so we can get through our things together.”

At his next sniffle, he pulls away, staying wrapped up in you but sitting so he can see your face.

“Guess these last few months have been messes for both of us, huh?” You break the seriousness of the moment with your chuckle, sending Joel into a fit of laughter as he nods.

“Guess so. Might’ve been better if either of us called. Don’t think we’d be here right now crying.”

“That’s life though, isn’t it? At least ours. Miscommunication continually brings us back together. I think maybe we should quit that habit though.”

“I agree…” he smiles sweetly, eyes pouring adoration into yours, “All this talk about us, I guess my other question would be, what are we? I mean, you don’t have an end to the summer, right? So maybe we could—“

“Let’s give us a proper shot. No expiration date. We can just be together and see what comes of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, Mariposa, yeah. I would love that,” Joel leans in, catching your lips in a slow, syrupy kiss. It’s languid, stealing your breath and giving you his, melting your tongues together and sighing at the taste of you. He pulls back, ghosting his lips over yours with an infectious smile.

“So, is that it? Are you officially mine, Mariposa? Mi Mariposa es solo mi Mariposa (My butterfly is only my butterfly)?”

“Yours. And you’re mine, so don’t forget it,” you chuckle and he kisses you sweetly again, shaking his head as his nose fits against yours.

“Never going to forget that, are you kidding me? Hearing that automatically entered my top five best life moments.”

“God, you’re such an idiot…”

“Yeah, I am, baby. An idiot in love. A fool for you,” he laughs and tightens his grip around you, arms settling under your thighs as he stands from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs, “Also an idiot who’s getting to go to bed with the girl of his dreams. So, really, who’s an idiot now? Think I made some damn good decisions.”

“Can I take back my answer to your question?” You tease, shrieking when he drops you onto his bed, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head.

“No takebacks. Stuck with me now, Mariposa,” he climbs over you and kisses you again, deeper than before but as innocent as the giggly kisses you shared earlier.

“Good thing you’re a good kisser.”

“Yeah? Bet you know what else I’m good at, don’t you, sweetheart?” He sits back on his haunches, eyes dragging over you laying back on his bed, tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“Can I have you, darlin’? Pretty please?”

A hard swallow comes from your throat, crossing your arms over your stomach as you look up from the mattress to Joel.

“I want you to, but I’ve…I haven’t done anything since—“

“I understand, sweet girl. You wanna ease back into it with me, hermosa? We’ll go slow,” he watches you nod, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt to under your breasts, “No bra? Sigues siendo mi diablita, no? (You’re still my little devil, aren’t you?)”

As you sit up, he tugs the materials over your head, folding over to attach his lips to one of your already pebbled nipples. A whimper slips from your mouth, tangling fingers into his hair and arching into his mouth. He pays the same attention to the other side, soft moans filling the room.

Joel separates from you with a pop of his lips, grinning as he reaches for the back collar of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. You happily sigh as you run your hands across his strong chest and shoulders, tickling your fingertips down his stomach as he watches you slip his shorts’ waistband down a few inches.

“Mm, I have an idea, sweetheart…You wanna try something we haven’t done before?” Joel kisses your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw.

“What d’you have in mind?”

“Take the rest of your clothes off, darlin’. ‘M gonna sit up at my headboard and you come sit on my lap, m’kay?”

You follow his instructions, licking your lips as you watch him stand and strip in front of you, his hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaking already out of need. He sits on his bed, head leaned against the headboard with pillows supporting his back. With your shorts and panties thrown into a heap with his clothes, you walk over the mattress on your knees, lifting one to the other side of his thighs.

“So beautiful, Mariposa. The most beautiful,” he sighs as he licks into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your ass, “How did I get so damn lucky?”

“Could say the same thing about you, J. Pretty boy.”

He chuckles against your lips, shaking his head. “Not as pretty as you, mi amor. Estás preciosa. Mucho más preciosa que cualquier flor o puesta de sol o estrella. La cosa más hermosa que he visto.”

“What does that all mean?”

“You are gorgeous. Much more gorgeous than any flower or sunset or star. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Joel speaks softly, tenderness in his eyes as he brushes your hair away from your face.

Heat spans across the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears, heart pounding from the look he is giving you. It feels like it’s breaking down any facade you had left, completely exposed to him with the bashful smile on your face.

“I love you, Mariposa,” he punctuates with a stealing kiss, one hand roaming around to your front to slip between your legs. Two fingers collect your arousal on their tips, dragging some to your clit as you sigh into Joel’s mouth.

“Now, ‘m gonna touch you, baby, and if you want, you touch me at the same time, yeah?” He pulls away from your lips, nudging his nose into your cheek.

“I want to, I really want to.”

His fingers move to your entrance, gathering more along his whole fingers before pulling from between your legs and wrapping his own hand around his cock. He gives himself a few long strokes, looking into your eyes.

“Think you can spare some for me, sweet girl? Got you fucking drenched from barely even touchin’ you,” he sighs contently, leaning his head back more, “Spit on it for me, baby, and use your own hand, m’kay?”

You nod, eager to follow instructions. Folding forward, you drop saliva onto his waiting cock, watching as it slips down the side and mixes with your slick. He takes his hand away and your own wraps around his base, starting slow and teasing strokes.

“Fuck,” he exhales, dragging it out as long as his sigh is, “Missed you so much, sweet girl. You’re my sweet girl now, aren’t you? Only mine.”

His fingers find your core again, slow circles matching the energy of your strokes. A whine slips out, brows scrunching as you attempt to move your hips to get more friction.

“Please, Joel, please. Want more…”

“You want more, mi Mariposa? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hm?” At your rapid nod, he chuckles darkly, nipping at your neck.

“Gotta give me more to get more, sweetheart. ‘M aching for you, just giving you the same treatment.”

“Mean,” you breathe out, gasping as his thick fingers tease your entrance.

“You ain’t seen mean yet, cariño,” he kisses you again as he slips one finger inside of you, the pace of your hand moving faster when you get more of what you wanted. He groans, the sound muffled into your tongue as it flicks against his, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit. You start to bounce your hips in rhythm with your hand, imagining his cock inside of you again.

With a lewd noise, he pulls away, shallow breaths fanning across your collarbone.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers while you stroke my cock.”

His voice makes you flood his finger even more, easily slipping another into you for a few strokes before adding a third.

“Feel full, sweet girl? Feel anything like my cock?” He whispers to you as you continue to ride his hand, moving your hips and hand faster.

“So full, J. Not as good as your cock, nothing ever is, but fuck—oh fuck! Feels so good.” Your eyes close tightly as the frays of tightly coiled rope start to break inside of you. Joel takes over as your body stills with stimulation, fucking his fingers into you quickly with wet noises while his own hips move under your grip to fuck your hand.

“Come for me, my sweet girl. Let me feel what I’ve missed about this pussy. Still mine, isn’t it?”

“Yesyesyes, Joel! Oh my god, fuck I’m coming!” You open your eyes as the last fibers of the rope snap, pleasure radiating over every nerve while he continues to move under you and inside of you. The aftershocks of your orgasm fade as he whimpers in front of you, shots of warm cum coating your hand and his stomach.

“Oh fuck, Mari…” Joel picks his head up and looks at you with a breathless laugh and smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“I love you, my girl. Mi Mariposa. Let’s get you cleaned up and get to sleep, yeah?”

Slumber reaches the edge of your vision, drooping your eyelids as Joel guides you to his en-suite, washing your hands for you before washing his, and wiping a warm cloth between your legs. He peppers kisses to your head, shoulders, and neck as he does it all, whispering sweet nothings as he pulls you back into his bed.

“Night, Mari.”

“Night, J…Mm, before I forget, we’re getting you new sheets tomorrow. No more navy, you’ve got a girl in your life now.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head and holding you closer to his side as he exhales, “Sure thing, my sweet girl. Can’t have all the other ladies I randomly bring up to my room think I don’t have a woman in my life, Mariposa.”

The tone is overly sarcastic and you flick his chest half awake.

“It’s not for other women to know, it’s so I don’t feel like I’m with a junior in college. Makes you look like a frat star.”

Joel laughs louder, your head shaking with his chest moving and a smile turning your lips up, before he calms himself and strokes your spine, “Okay, okay, it is the task for the morning. We’ll pick up Sarah and head to…”

“HomeGoods.”

“Alright, HomeGoods it is. Now sleep.”

Sarah darts ahead of you both as Joel holds the door open, beelining in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to the first open booth she sees. Easily sliding into one side, she moves toward the wall as you two approach, patting the spot next to her.

“Posey, come sit with me!”

With a smile, you take the offered seat and look over to Joel as he settles in on the opposite side, shaking his head as he gives Sarah a playfully hurt face.

“You don’t want me to sit next to you, Bug?” he pouts.

“I wanna sit with Posey 'cause I always have to sit with you when we go places. It gets boring.”

You laugh loudly and cover your mouth when you get glares from other customers, Joel’s jaw drops for a moment before he looks at you and starts laughing as well.

“Never lose your honesty, mija.”

Sarah doesn’t seem phased by her dad’s response, moving to sit on her knees in the booth and look over the kids’ menu. Reaching up, you fluff her curls, smiling at her when she turns to look at you.

“How was the sleepover, Sare-Bear? I see you got some tinsel in your hair, it’s very pretty.”

“It was fun, but I kinda missed my stuffed animals and my own bed. I wanna have a sleepover at our house, Daddy,” Sarah looks up from the menu and to Joel, awaiting an answer. With one look at Joel, you can see the idea makes him nervous, having a handful of young girls to entertain for a whole night as a single dad. Sarah is one thing, she’s his and he can handle her attitude or boredom, but with other kids, he isn’t so sure he has a lot of tolerance.

“Um, I’m not sure, Bug. Can I think about it?” he asks with his brow furrowed, reaching across the table to nudge her arm with a smile. Sarah sighs and sits back, clearly disappointed in her father’s answer.

“Well, what about if you had a sleepover with me? I would be honored to be invited over. We could watch movies and I could do your hair or your makeup. We could paint our nails — a whole girls’ night. Plus your dad,” you turn back to Joel with a grin, winking as he chuckles.

Sarah immediately perks up, grinning wildly and bouncing in her seat, “You would come over for that, Posey? I want to have a sleepover with you. Please, Daddy, please can Posey come over?”

Joel gives you a knowing look, the secret shared between you two not living on for much longer, and he nods with a grin, “Sure, Bug. Posey can come over and stay whenever you want.”

Breakfast is filled with conversation about what you could do at said sleepover, making plans for movies, and going to the drug store to get some new nail polishes. Joel orders for the table so you can stay engrossed in conversation, and he can’t help but put a hand to his chest as he observes the two of you talking like you are best friends, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference. You treat Sarah like your own, and he reminds himself to thank you for that, someday.

When the chocolate waffles are set in front of you and Sarah, and a typical two eggs, toast, and bacon meal is laid in front of Joel, the conversation slows. After taking a sip of water, Joel faces Sarah, sharing one quick glance with you.

“So, mija, do you remember last summer when you were telling me about those classmates of yours that were boyfriend and girlfriend and they spent recess together?”

“Yeah, Luke and Katie. They are not boyfriend girlfriend anymore,” she says with an exasperated sigh, taking another bite of her waffle.

“Well, that’s too bad…Anyways, Bug, d’you remember what you told me when Posey was moving away? Like what you told me I should ask her?” You forgo your breakfast for a moment, sipping your water and darting your eyes between Joel and Sarah. She seems perplexed for a minute, tapping her chin as she thinks back in her young memory.

“I think I remember, Daddy. Why?”

Joel adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat — he’s never had to have this type of conversation with Sarah. Every woman he dated before had never gotten to this point, and after over two years of this back and forth with you, over a year of being head over heels for you, he knows it’s appropriate and that it’s time and that this is going to last until the end. If everything goes, well, how he is hoping it will go, this will be the only time he has to have a conversation like this with Sarah.

If only he knew how you were just as nervous, clammy hands gripping your condensation-covered plastic cup tighter and looking over at Sarah. Sure, she loves you, but that is as her nanny. As a family friend. Would she change her opinion if you were dating her dad? Your mind told you that you couldn’t be sure despite the way your heart was yelling at you to tell you that it would be all fine.

“I was askin’ you all this 'cause I have a big question I wanted to ask you. It’s okay to be honest, princess, I want you to know you can say whatever it is you feel, yeah?” Sarah nods in confirmation, encouraging Joel to continue, “What would you think about Posey being my girlfriend?”

“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?” Her head whips to the side, curls bouncing as a grin grows on her face, “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

The younger Miller volleys her gaze between you and Joel, eyes widened with her brows raised as she sits up eagerly. You make eye contact with Joel, nodding to him with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, mija, Posey’s my girlfriend now. Can you believe she said yes to your silly dad?” He teases and can’t help but laugh along with her as she giggles excitedly, the infectiousness of it bringing out a laugh from you.

“I’m so excited! Wait, so that means Posey is gonna be hanging out with you lots of times? And she’ll be at our house and can play with me?” Her tiny arms wrap around your bicep closest to her, leaning into your side. You drop your head onto hers and both of you look over at Joel.

“As much as Posey wants to come over, we’d be happy to have her, right Bug?” He smiles sweetly at you, holding your eyes for a lingering moment before Sarah pipes up again.

“Well, you can’t take up all the time Posey is over, Daddy, ‘cause I want to hang out with her, too.” Her arms tighten possessively and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“No need to worry about that, sweet pea,” acting as if you’re sharing a secret with her, you lean in, “Don’t tell your dad, but I think we’ll hang out the most.”

Sarah giggles at your joke, leaning back in the booth and letting go of your arm. Joel’s daughter starts to list everything she wants to do this summer, now with you instead of only her dad, and you look up to face Joel for a moment. He shrugs and smiles at you, reaching over and stealing a bite of your waffle. At your gasp, he chuckles and grins smugly, chewing the swiped sweet.

“Hey, Daddy, that’s not very polite,” Sarah reprimands, turning back to her food.

“I was makin’ sure it wasn’t poisoned, mija, just like I’m going to make sure yours isn’t too,” he takes the same from her plate, and in retaliation, you reach over and grab a piece of bacon, splitting it in half and giving one to Sarah.

“Hey! I don’t have that much bacon, y’all have massive waffles.”

“Sharing is caring. That’s what you always say to me, Daddy.”

“Yeah, J, sharing is caring. Can’t give the lesson if you can’t follow it.” You playfully stick your tongue out and Sarah imitates it, too. Joel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in the booth.

“Is the two of you teaming up on me gonna be a thing now?”

“Yeah,” you answer at the same time as Sarah, the three of you laughing with each other.

It was bold to come to a HomeGoods on a Sunday, all of the aisles packed with people browsing on this relaxing weekend, stowing away in the air conditioning before venturing to the other stores in the commons. Sarah grips your hand, poking around the shelves while Joel stands behind you, a hand on your waist to keep you close.

The aisle filled with sheet sets is finally discovered by the three of you, excusing yourselves to the center of the aisle past a few fellow shoppers, looking up and down before facing Joel.

“Alright, your choice. Anything but plain ol’ navy, please.”

Joel’s eyes follow the same path that yours had, combing over the options before shrugging and staring down at you again.

“You choose for me.”

“Okay, that is not the point, it is still your room and your house.”

“I made choices for your room for you, sweetheart, you choose for me now,” his timbre rings in your ears as he presses his lips into the side of your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your lower back. Sarah wanders off down the aisle and Joel calls out a warning to stay where he can see her, waiting for you as you peruse the options. After some consideration, you select a thin pinstriped set and a plain white one, holding the sets against your chest.

“What d’ya think of these? Like either of ‘em?” Joel checks them out, shrugging and smiling.

“Both look great to me. You wanna look at anything else, mi amor?” He leads you out of the aisle, taking the sets and holding them under his arm. Pursuing the store, the three of you weave around aisles, checking out some other things. Sarah excitedly runs ahead to explore the kids’ section, drawn in by glitter, sequins, and bright colors. Joel takes your hand with his open one, nodding to some furniture on display.

“D’you like any of that?” You hum, turning your attention to him when you hear his question, following his gaze to the mix of pieces. Shrugging, you squeeze his hand and grab his bicep with your opposite one.

“The chair’s nice. Personally, I prefer my handcrafted, artisan bookshelf though.”

Joel scoffs and laughs a bit at your descriptors, “M’glad to hear that, the amount of splinters I got for that thing was brutal.”

“There’s literally blood, sweat, and tears put into it then,” you tease, continuing to scan over the goods, “None of this compares to a Joel Miller original.”

“I mean, thank you, sweetheart, but I do want you to feel at home with us. I’d get whatever you liked—well, maybe not something I could make 'cause it’s less expensive for me to just do it, but I want you to have a hand in our home. Make it as much of your space as it is ours.”

“I do feel at home with you both cause it’s the two of you. I mean, I didn’t really feel completely at home until I was at your place. The drawing from Sarah and Flopsy and the fact that you built my studio for me made me feel so much more comfortable, but it was like something really settled when I saw you.”

“Y’know, I like having little reminders of you every day, darlin’. Bedsheets, stolen bites of waffle, the stuffed animals on Sarah’s bed, my watch from you,” he lifts his left wrist to show off the round face with the army green band, kissing your cheek, “And I want whatever you are willing to give me, even if it is just those tiny moments. I would be content with that for the summer; no matter where you decide to end up, I’d cherish all the small things with you.”

Looking up at him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, “Think we both know what I’m gonna decide, J.”

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