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justagalwhowrites · 1 month ago

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Fucksgiving 2k24: Growing Family

You and Joel try to patch things up with your father while starting a family of your own. A Thanksgiving oneshot in the Stranger in a Bar universe.

^This is how I pictured this Joel as I was writing, with his lil tie on. Sorry not sorry.

Pairing: DBF!Joel x Female Reader (from Stranger in a Bar)

Length: 3.8k

CW: BREEDING KINK. Unprotected P in V for obvious reasons. Planning for pregnancy. Age gap (Joel is 20 years older, reader is 35 and Joel is 55.) Reader's dad is kind of a dick. No outbreak AU. Can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel was reader's dad's bestie and he and reader are living together after dating years prior. No use of Y/N, minors DNI 18+ only.

A/N: Here's something to read while you navigate your own Thanksgiving dinner situations which are, hopefully, less awkward than this one. Happy Thanksgiving!!

“I mean it,” you said, clutching the casserole dish of mashed potatoes tightly to your stomach. “Best. Behavior.”

“When am I ever not on my best behavior?” Joel asked, his hand on the small of your back possessively.

You stopped in the middle of the drive on the mercifully long walk to your parents’ front door to stare at him, incredulous.

“When are you?” You asked, brows raised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you behave yourself, not once, especially not where my dad is involved…”

“Alright,” he chuckled good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’d better,” you said. “He’s just coming around to this, OK? I’d rather not blow it.”

“I know, baby,” he said, kissing your temple. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

“Thank you,” you said, continuing up to the front door.

“Your dad needs to behave too, though,” Joel said, sticking close to you. “Because I’m not gonna just let him say the same shit he always does, I don’t care.”

“Please try,” you said, ringing the doorbell. “If you do, I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Really?” He asked, his voice husky. “Dyin’ to know what you mean by that.”

“I mean,” you said, keeping your voice low. “Given how much I want to fuck your brains out, I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating and I can think of all kinds of ways you can try to knock me up - hey Mom!”

“Hey, honey!” Your mom opened the door and pulled you in for a hug. You just caught Joel’s expression out of the corner of your eye, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” you gave her a squeeze, carefully angling the casserole dish away from her before stepping back. “We come bearing potatoes.”

“So you do!” She said, taking the dish before turning to your boyfriend and taking a deep breath. “Joel. Always good to see you.”

You looked to Joel and saw him collect himself for half a second before smiling to your mom.

“Good to see you, too,” he said. “Been a while.”

“Yeah,” she smiled a little bigger and reached out to give his arm a squeeze. “It has.”

You gave Joel an encouraging smile as the two of you followed your mother into a kitchen that was overflowing with dishes.

“Can I help?” You asked, laughing a little as you looked around.

“Oh…” she sighed, looking around before she laughed, too. “Yes, yes please. Your father has been utterly useless, just wandering around, muttering to himself. Not that he’s the most helpful in the kitchen but he’s not completely incompetent…”

“He’s good on the grill,” you said. “Kitchen… eh.”

“Well, yes,” she giggled conspiratorially. “But I try to give him credit where it’s due. Usually I’m not on my own for a holiday but this year he’s been… something.”

You just hummed in agreement and started in on the green beans because you were pretty sure you knew the reason why your dad was acting strange and that reason was currently asking your mom how she wanted the cucumber cut for the salad.

Joel and your father had barely spoken in the six months since you’d moved back to Austin and gotten back together with Joel.

Not that you were too surprised about that. He was, after all, one of your dad’s closest friends and was much closer to his age than your own. You hadn’t exactly expected the news of your relationship to go over well but it had been even worse than you’d anticipated.

You’d arranged to talk to your parents in public when you decided to tell them. Neutral ground, as it were. Plus, you were pretty sure your father would be less likely to punch Joel in the face if you were in public.

It ended up not making much of a difference.

“You’re what!” Your father stood up so fast that his chair fell over, the sharp clatter of the wood on the tile restaurant floor and violence of his tone plunging the once bustling room into silence.

“Dad,” you said gently. “It’s not a big deal…”

“The hell it’s not!” He yelled, looking between the two of you. “When the fuck did this start, hm? When the hell did you start fucking my daughter!”

“Why don’t you sit down and…” Joel began, but your dad didn’t let him finish.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” he put his finger inches from Joel’s face. “She is a child!”

“I’m 35!” You gaped at him. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous!”

“You’re already in hot water,” he snapped at you. “So keep your damn mouth shut while…”

“Don’t talk to her that way,” Joel said, standing up with too much force, his voice hot. “You got a problem with me, handle it with me, don’t take it out on her.”

“Don’t you tell me how to treat my own fucking kid!” Your dad yelled. “I’ll handle her however I damn well please!”

You weren’t sure who threw the first punch but it devolved quickly then, your mother pulling your father away while you dragged Joel back, both men bloody and panting for breath.

You kept your distance from your father after that. You talked to your mom regularly - she was smart enough to give up on trying to talk you out of your relationship quickly and, eventually, was even happy for you - but your father took some time.

After a while, he was willing to talk to you. Your mother must have given him strict rules - he didn’t try to talk you out of your relationship or question Joel’s integrity - but it was stiff and awkward.

Thanksgiving had been your mom’s idea. Joel was hesitant but - after you conspired with Sarah (you and Joel’s daughter becoming fast friends once you moved past the awkwardness of your closeness in age) so she would stay in Dallas to go to have dinner with her boyfriend’s family - he’d agreed eventually.

“If this don’t prove how much I love you, woman,” he’d grumbled as he tied his tie that morning.

“You? Love me?” You asked, adjusting the knot under his chin. “News to me…”

“Uh huh,” he smiled a little, just enough to make his cheek dimple.

“Never said it,” you had to fight to hold your smirk back. “Definitely not 20 times while you were inside me last night…”

“That don’t sound like me at all,” he teased back before going to kiss your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Well, I do have a hot date.”

“Really? When’s he showing up?”

You glared at him and he laughed before giving you another kiss.

“Let’s go before I lose my damn nerve,” he said. “Gonna be the most awkward Thanksgiving ever.”

For a little while, there in the kitchen with just Joel and your mother, you almost forgot how awkward this was supposed to be.

You and Joel moved around each other in tandem now. You’d been living together for months and you’d fallen into sync so fast it was almost strange when you stopped to think about it. When you’d moved in with your ex, it took what felt like a small eternity to really understand the flow of his life, to subconsciously recognize where he was going in the kitchen when you were cooking side by side, to remember to consider him when making decisions big and small. With Joel, it was almost instantaneous. There had been no odd fumbling around each other as you went through your lives under one roof, no putting one brand of peanut butter back to pick up the one you suddenly remembered he preferred, no confusion or frustration when you came home from the office to find him not back yet. It all clicked, like you’d been built to do this alongside each other all along. Even in the unfamiliar space of your parents’ kitchen, his hand found the small of your back as he moved behind you to get a serving bowl and you just knew which knife to pass him from the block beside you when he went to reach for it.

Things shifted when your sister showed up about an hour and a half before dinner, her arrival finally coaxing your father out from wherever he’d been hiding since you and Joel had gotten there.

“Hey Dad,” you smiled at him after he finished greeting your sister and he stood, hovering awkwardly in the kitchen. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, princess,” he said pulling you in for a quick hug.

He turned his attention to Joel then, looking him up and down like he would an adversary.

“Joel,” he said, nodding once.

“Hey man,” Joel said, holding his hand out. Your father’s jaw twitched but he shook Joel’s hand all the same. “Good to see you.”

Your father just grunted before going to the fridge and getting out a beer. Joel followed him and you and your mother exchanged worried glances.

“Think the Cowboys are gonna pull out a win this year?” Joel asked.

Your dad held his beer for a moment, looking like he was considering just not responding but then seemed to think better of it.

“We’ll see,” he said. “With their record, I’d settle for not getting our asses handed to us.”

Things were easier after that. Your father and Joel disappeared to the living room and you heard the telltale sounds of football follow immediately after.

“I still can’t believe you’re fucking Dad’s weirdly hot friend!” Your sister said, just quiet enough that your mother was out of earshot. “Or that you were for years, forever ago! Seriously, there are rules about holding back to your sister like that.”

“You don’t need to know everything I do, you know,” you said.

“No but I need to know everyone you do,” she said. You snorted. “So… you think it’s going to last?”

“Well, we’re trying for kids,” you said, putting the last of the shredded cheese on the mac and cheese. “So it’d better.”

“What!” She yelped.

“What?” Your mom ran over. “Everyone OK? Did you burn yourself?”

“We’re good,” you smiled. “Just catching up. Sister shit, you know.”

“Yeah,” your sister said. “Sister shit.”

Your mother went back to the other side of the kitchen and your sister mouthed oh my God at you and you fought the urge to laugh. Your dad might hate your boyfriend but at least you could count on your sister to be your sister.

Eventually, the rest of the family came over, too, and everyone settled around the overly full dining room table, Joel sitting beside you with a reassuring hand on your knee as he made small talk with one of your uncles.

Dinner went surprisingly well, at least until everyone was a few glasses of wine deep and your father decided to pick a fight.

“So, Joel,” he said, setting his wine glass down with a little too much force. “Not sure if I should thank you for getting my daughter to move back home or if I should blame you for her obsession with being a failed musician for a living.”

“Dad!” Your sister gaped at him. “What the fuck!”

“Language, please!” Your mother said.

“Just seems to be real clear to me now,” he said. “Doubt she’d be so stuck on playing that damn guitar all the time if it weren’t for your bad influence.”

“Bad influence?” You laughed. “Dad, I’m almost middle aged, I’m not some impressionable teenager. I love my work, I don’t consider myself to be a failure just because I do music therapy instead of being a rock star, I…”

“You could have actually done something with yourself, you know,” he cut you off. “Instead, you decided to drive your life into the ground with this man and some bullshit career path…”

“Watch it,” Joel said sharply. “Not gonna let you talk to her that way. You will treat her with respect or I will make you treat her with respect.”

“Respect?” Your dad asked, his eyebrows raised. “You’re gonna sit there, in my house, at my table and lecture me about respect when you decided to take up with my daughter?”

“Stop it!” You shoved your chair back, throwing your napkin on your gravy smeared plate. “Both of you! Dad, stop acting like your my keeper and that I don’t have any goddamn agency because you raised me! Joel, stop acting like I need you to defend my honor! Just… fucking stop it!”

“Baby,” Joel said but you ignored him, stalking off to the guest room at the back of your parents’ house, needing some space from everyone.

You let yourself cry for a minute, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at an old family photo of you with your parents and sister, back when you were just 10 years old. Your hand drifted to your lower stomach. You weren’t pregnant yet - at least, not that you knew - but you couldn’t imagine your child doing anything that would make you as mad at them as your father seemed to be at you loving Joel.

There was a soft knock at the door and you wiped your eyes on the backs of your wrists.

“Yeah?”

“S’me,” Joel said quietly. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed.

He came in, closing the door gently behind him before sitting next to you.

“You OK?” He asked after a moment.

“I will be,” you sniffed again.

“I’m sorry baby,” he said, reaching out and cupping your face, his thumb tracing the arch of your cheekbone. “Know I promised to be on my best behavior but… Look, him being a dick to me is fine, I can handle that. I just can’t watch him say that shit to you. But that don’t mean I should get… aggressive and…”

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “I’d do the same thing if I were you, I can’t really blame you for it. And I appreciate that you care about me…”

“I love you,” he smiled a little. “More than just about anything else. But that means I need to take care of you in the way you want me to, not just the way I want to do it.”

You smiled tightly before leaning in to kiss him. Joel kissed you back, gentle at first but, before long, something shifted, the kiss becoming hot and needy.

“Baby,” Joel said, his voice low. “Should… should probably get back out there…”

“They can wait,” you said, panting a little. “I want you.”

He groaned, nipping at your lower lip but still hesitating.

“Please, Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer to him. “I need you. Let’s make a baby.”

“Fuck,” he said, his tone shifting, and then he was on you. His tongue plunged into your mouth as he lay you back on the bed.

He didn’t bother taking your panties off, just tucking them to the side and tugging the low v-neck of your sweater down to expose your cleavage.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he groaned, cupping your sex with one hand and tugging your breasts free of your bra with the other. He mouthed at your nipple, licking and sucking over your breasts as he ground his palm against your clit, one thick finger slipping inside your seam to your already dripping entrance. “Don’t deserve you, baby.”

“Yes you do,” you whispered. “You deserve the world.”

He just moaned in response, kissing you again, one large hand cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple.

It wasn’t long before he shoved his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and he jerked himself a few times with the hand that had become coated in your wetness. He notched himself at your entrance, his head thick and large and swollen, and pressed inside, a moment of resistance before your channel stretched over him and he buried himself within you.

He pulled his lips from yours, his head falling to the bed over your shoulder as he panted for breath.

“Goddamn you feel good,” he said, voice tight and hot in your ear. You rolled your hips up against him, making him moan.

“Good,” you said. “Love making you feel good, sometimes that’s all I want to do.”

“Fuck, you think your daddy hates me now,” he said. “If he knew what you do to me he’d shoot me.”

He started to fuck into you then, keeping his chest pressed tight to yours while his cock worked you hard and fast inside, his head finding that soft and tender place within you that built your orgasm fast with every stroke. He ground his cock against you there, his hips on your clit, making every ounce of need inside yourself gather tight and low.

“Fuck, Joel,” you panted. “I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, I…”

“Good,” he growled. “Come for me, come while I get you pregnant, c’mon baby and come all over me.”

You had to bury your face in his shoulder to keep quiet, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast, your center fluttering over his thick length as he held himself inside you.

“Oh you like hearin’ that, huh?” He asked, breathless, starting to move again, already building your next orgasm as he did. “Like hearing how I’m gonna put a baby in my baby, that it?”

“Yes,” you groaned, your second climax growing quickly. “Yes, please, please, please, please…”

“You don’t gotta beg for it baby,” he said, pulling back from you enough to look you in the eyes as he spoke. “I’ll give you everything, as many babies as you want, fuck, gonna give you my baby right now, gonna make you pregnant, fuck!”

He buried his face in your neck and pressed himself so deep inside you as he came, the heat of him spilling into you in thick, heavy pulses.

“Fuck,” he said after he finished, kissing your neck before pulling back from you to kiss your lips, too. “Didn’t mean to come that quick, wanted to get you off one more time first.”

“It’s OK,” you said, panting, even though it was kind of a lie. You’d been so close to coming again that you felt tight inside your skin, an energy rippling over you that you knew you wouldn’t be able to shake until you came again once you got home.

“No, it’s not,” he said, sitting up and slowly, carefully pulling his softening cock from you. “Got you all worked up, not taking care of you the way you deserve if I don’t finish the job.”

You felt some of his come slip out of you but he caught it with the tip of his cock, pressing it back inside before tucking himself away in his underwear and cupping your swollen, aching sex.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said quietly. “Take care of you the rest of my life.”

He worked your clit, slow and gentle circles at first before his touch grew firmer, drawing your orgasm back to the surface in the way that only Joel seemed to know how to do. You came to his touch, feeling his thick come inside you as you did, like your body was trying to pull him even deeper inside.

“There you go,” he said, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “Fuck, so pretty, every damn inch of you.”

You panted for breath, relaxing down into the bed before suddenly remembering that your entire family was down the hall.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “We should get back.”

“We should,” Joel said, tugging your panties back in place and helping you cover your chest again before chuckling. “Think your daddy really might shoot me if he found us like this.”

You laughed and sat up, looking at Joel for a moment. You trailed your fingers through his hair and he smiled a little, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Really not sure why you think I’m worth all this trouble,” he said. “But I sure am thankful I have you.”

You smiled back.

“I’m thankful for you, too.”

You kissed him and he helped make sure your hair and makeup didn’t look like you just got fucked within an inch of your life before you emerged, the party having moved to the living room, your mom and aunts on one side of the room, your dad and uncles on the other, an uncomfortable silence falling when the two of you walked in.

“Joel,” your dad said, getting up and walking over with a sigh. “Look… not sure I’ll ever really be OK with this but… my daughter could do worse than a man seems to adore her and is willing to stand up for her.”

“I do adore her,” Joel said. “I love her. I want to do everything I can for here as long as she’ll let me.”

Your dad nodded slowly.

“Think I can live with that,” he said. “But you hurt her? I will kill you.”

Joel laughed a little.

“I expect nothing less.”

Joel and your dad seemed a little more like the friends they’d started out as after that, laughing and talking and watching football. When the two of you left for home, your father and mother walked you out, containers of leftovers in hand.

“It was so good to see you both,” your mom smiled, giving you a squeeze. “We’ll have to do this again. Soon.”

“We will,” you kissed her cheek before turning to your dad. “It’ll be nice.”

“It will,” he said before looking to Joel and holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.”

Joel smiled a little, taking his hand and shaking it.

“Thanks for letting me in it.”

You smiled the whole drive home, Joel’s hand on your knee.

“So,” he said, looking at you conspiratorially as he pulled into the drive way. “Think the family will be even bigger next Thanksgiving?”

“I sure hope so,” you smiled. “But I think we’ll have fun trying either way.”

“Think we should try again now?” He asked, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Because, you know… if you’re ovulating, should probably do it again. Seems like the smart move.”

You laughed, already adding pregnancy tests to your mental shopping list.

“Well we can’t start out our lives as parents doing the dumb thing,” you said and he laughed before the two of you went inside to try again to grow your family.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut #breeding kink fic #breeding kink Joel miller #dbf!joel x reader #fucksgiving #stranger in a bar

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hawkesoutdoor · 3 months ago

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austinbutlerslovers · 1 month ago

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Pretty Little Secret

Label mature 18+

Summary Your dad is a famous no-nonsense actor: study hard, never rest on your laurels, and don’t even think about boys. Those were his rules, drilled into you since you were old enough to understand them. So when his gorgeous best friend, Austin, starts taking an unexpected interest in you, it completely derails your carefully constructed world.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨 sheltered reader • first crush •curios reader 18+ •coercion • abuse of trust • manipulation • unexperienced reader • physical exploration • edging • fingering • size training • size kink• oral on fem• gentle (as possible) P in V • multiple orgasms •pull out •aftercare 🔗Master List

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine

Pretty Little Secret

The summer barbecue is in full swing, the smell of grilling burgers and sizzling ribs filling the backyard. Your dad, the larger-than-life, no-nonsense actor everyone admires, is holding court at the grill, telling stories that make everyone laugh. But your attention isn’t on him—it’s on Austin Butler.

Austin is your dad’s best friend, though the two couldn’t be more different. Where your dad is gruff and commanding always taking charge, Austin has a laid-back charm, a warmth that makes everyone feel special

They had recently filmed a movie together, a huge hit that had dominated the box office. Your dad couldn’t stop talking about Austin’s talent, his work ethic, or how he was the easiest person he’d ever filmed with. It had turned into endless visits and outings making Austin a near constant presence in your life.

You remember vividly the first time you met him, it was at a dinner party your parents hosted to celebrate one of your dad’s films. Austin walked in effortlessly charming with a gorgeous smile. He was wearing a tailored all black suit that somehow made him look both casual and impossibly put together at the same time.

He had leaned in to greet your dad, laughing at one of his sarcastic remarks, and then his gaze shifted to you. As he introduced himself, it felt like time slowed. “I’m Austin. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting as he extended a hand.

The scent of his cologne drifted toward you—clean, fresh, and utterly intoxicating and his blue eyes were so focused on yours that it made your stomach flip

You’d never felt so self-conscious, so aware of yourself. It wasn’t just that he was stunning—it was the way he carried himself, like he didn’t even have to try to captivate you.

In that moment, everything you knew about life had changed. The way you felt about him was deeper than friendly—it was a feeling that made your heart race every time he was near, something that never happened before.

It was then that you slowly understood why your dad wanted you to stay away from boys—but Austin was a man.

The memory still lingers in your mind as you sit on the patio steps, pretending to read through your book as your eyes kept drifting to him.

Austin is gorgeous, with his effortless smile and the way his hair catches the sunlight just right, like he doesn’t even try to be perfect.

Today, he wears a fitted white t-shirt that hugs his athletic frame, paired with blue jeans that somehow make him look like he’s just stepped out of a magazine. He holds a drink casually in his hand, laughing with your dad as if they’ve been born friends.

He glances your way, catching you mid-stare and your heart leaps into your throat. Instead of looking away, he slowly smiles at you, walking over with a smooth, unhurried strut.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he grins, his voice as warm as the late afternoon sun as he gestures to your sundress. “That color looks nice on you.”

Your cheeks burn so hot you’re sure they match the barbecue flames. “Th-thank you, Austin,” you stutter, looking down and pretending to fidget with your bookmark.

He leans one shoulder casually against the patio railing, his drink balanced effortlessly in his hand as he gazes down at you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he says, his eyes flicking to yours with a playful glint. “Your dad’s keeping you buried in books again.” he smiles.

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “He wants me to do very well in school and get into NYU,” you admit.

He smiles over the rim of his glass, taking a slow sip as his eyes linger on you.

“Figures,” he says, setting the drink down by his side. “He doesn’t strike me as the ‘let you slack off’ type.”

You nod in agreement, smiling slightly.

“Don’t let him keep you too busy though—you’ve gotta have a little fun, right?” He asks with a knowing look.

Your cheeks burn hotter, and your heart thumps so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “I try,” you say quietly, your cheeks burning brighter under his gaze.

He tilts his head slightly, taking a slow sip from his glass, his eyes narrowing on you just enough to make your insides flutter.

“Any boys keeping you distracted?” he grins, his voice playful, “Or does your dad have them all running scared too?” He asks his tone dropping to something conspiratorial.

You shake your head quickly, your cheeks burning even brighter. “Never boys,” you say with a slight smile as you glance up at him. Your eyes are soft and smitten unable to hide the way you feel about him.

Austin’s grin widens at your reaction, a playful glint flashing in his eyes.

He tips his glass toward you in a way that feels almost like approval. “You’re a good girl,” he says softly, his voice low enough to make your stomach flip, before pushing off the railing.

“I’ll see you around,” he says as he turns to leave, his gaze dropping just slightly, lingering for the briefest second, as if he’s memorizing every detail of the way you look in this moment.

Then, he strolls back to the group, leaving you rooted to the spot, your mind spinning.

The way he talks to you, the way his attention feels like it’s meant just for you, and the way he smiles at you lingers in your thoughts long after he’s gone—You try hard to push your feelings aside, but your completely falling for Austin Butler.

At dinner your dad sits at the head of the table, recounting the highlights of the party with a sly grin. You push your food around your plate, replaying every second of your conversation with Austin in your mind, when your dad suddenly mentions him.

“Austin’s seeing someone new,” he says, taking a bite of steak. “Supermodel. Met her at some gala thing.”

Your heart plummets. You barely hear your mom’s response, something about how strategic Austin is with his girlfriends.

All you can think about is how unfair it feels. You spend the rest of dinner sulking, your appetite gone, barely noticing the way your dad raises an eyebrow at your obvious pout.

Austin doesn’t come around much after that, and you throw yourself into homework and other distractions.

You begin spending hours drawing or listening to music to keep your mind off him, but the house feels emptier without his easy laughter and teasing comments, like a missing piece that leaves everything feeling slightly off.

One day, as you come home from school you see your dad and Austin talking in the kitchen, making you stop in your tracks as you stare in disbelief.

Your dad is showing him how to use the espresso maker, his deep voice rumbling through the space while Austin leans casually against the counter. He’s wearing a soft white henley that clings to him just right, his sandy blonde hair perfectly tousled.

“There she is,” Austin greets, his smile easy as you drop your bag by the door. “How was school?”

“F-fine,” you manage, but your voice comes out quieter than you intend. His attention feels like a spotlight, and the unexpected visit catches you completely off guard. Feeling overwhelmed you quickly run upstairs feeling your cheeks flush warm.

Later that night, your mom comes to check on you while you’re lying in bed. “How’s my girl doing?” she asks affectionately, a laundry basket balanced on her hip.

“Fine,” you reply, though your thoughts are anything but calm.

She sets the basket down and begins placing your folded clothes into the dresser. As she turns to leave, she pauses, her tone softening. “Oh, by the way, Austin’s going to be staying with us for a while. He and his girlfriend broke up, and he’s throwing himself into a new project with your dad.”

The door clicks shut, and you let out a shaky sigh. Austin is staying with you, and he’s just downstairs. He’s heartbroken, and he’ll be living in your house for who knows how long.

The thought is overwhelming, filling your chest with a swirl of emotions—sympathy, excitement, nervousness—and before you can stop yourself, a small smile spreads across your lips.

Over the next few days, you fall into a routine. After school, you come home, finish your homework, and try to act normal whenever Austin is around.

But “normal” feels impossible when he’s sitting on the couch, reading through scripts, or casually fixing himself a snack in the kitchen. His presence fills the house, making it hard to focus on anything but him.

One evening, you’re sketching at the dining table when he walks in, a glass of water in hand. He leans over slightly to see what you’re working on, his cologne faint but intoxicating.

“Beautiful,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “You’re really talented.”

You freeze, gripping your pencil a little tighter. “It’s nothing,” you mumble, your face heating up.

“No, really,” he insists, his gaze lingering on your sketch before flicking to your face. “You’ve got an eye for detail.

Your cheeks flush deeper, and you look away, unable to handle the intensity of his eye contact. “Thanks,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you continue to draw, his compliment stays with you long after he leaves the room, the warmth of his presence lingering like a phantom touch.

Over the next few days, every interaction with him—every soft word or shared smile—feels like a secret you hold close, something just for you.

You can’t help the way your cheeks warm whenever your eyes meet. The way he begins to look at you when you catch him watching makes your stomach flip. His gaze is soft and thoughtful, as though he’s seeing something in you that you don’t fully understand yet.

At night, as you lay in bed, all you do is think about him— how he is downstairs, so close, yet impossibly out of reach.

At dinner the next evening, the table buzzes with lively conversation. Your mom recounts an event she and your dad attended, while Austin chimes in with his easy humor, making your no-nonsense father crack a warm smile.

You, on the other hand, sit quietly, picking at your plate, aware of every occasional brush of Austin’s knee against yours as he shifts in his seat. Your cheeks warm, and you try to focus on your food, but his subtle touch is impossible to ignore.

Midway through the meal, your dad clears his throat. “So, your mom and I are heading out for a few days. There’s a film festival in Cannes we can’t miss. Networking, appearances, you know the drill.”

Your mom smiles warmly at you. “Since it’s your spring break, we thought Austin could keep an eye on you while we’re away.”

You nearly choke on your water at her words, the idea of being alone with Austin catching you completely off guard. Your dad chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head. “He’s staying because I don’t want you to get any ideas—no parties, and absolutely no boys over,” he says, giving you a pointed look.

Your cheeks burn as your gaze flickers toward Austin. He meets your eyes briefly, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips as your heart stumbles in your chest.

“Don’t worry,” Austin says smoothly, his voice calm but tinged with something you can’t quite place. “She’ll be in good hands.”

Your heart thuds harder, and you quickly look down, pretending to focus on your plate as you try to calm your breathing. The rest of the meal passes in a blur, your mind spinning with the realization that you and Austin will be alone in the house together.

Early the next morning, as your parents kiss you goodbye and head out for their flight, you stand at the front door, watching their car disappear down the driveway.

As you turn back inside, your mind races with a mix of excitement and uncertainty, the house feeling bigger, quieter, and full of possibilities.

After finishing breakfast, Austin leans against the counter, drinking tea. His fingers tapping lightly against the mug as he looks out the window at the large pool.

Then he glances at you smiling warmly. “You want to swim?” he asks, his voice casual but inviting.

You hesitate, your cheeks flushing at the thought of being in a bikini around him, your heart racing as his attention lingers.

“C’mon,” he coaxes, his irresistible smile lighting up his face. “It’ll be fun. I promise I won’t splash you too much.”

You smile bashfully and look down as you nod. Unable to meet his gaze for too long, your emotions swirling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you turn to leave, you can feel his eyes on you, warm and curious. He’s relaxed, but there’s an edge of something deeper to him—like he’s eager to see you in a way he hasn’t before.

Within five minutes, you’re stepping out to the pool, adjusting the straps of your bikini feeling painfully self-conscious.

Austin is already in the water, leaning casually against the edge, droplets glistening on his toned chest and shoulders in the sunlight. His swim trunks are low on his hips, and his hair is slicked back and wet, the look daring in a way that makes your heart race.

“There she is,” he says with a grin, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watches you.

His eyes linger as you slip into the water, the coolness a welcome relief against your flushed skin. Your movements feel awkward, and you keep your gaze down, sinking until the water covers you up to your chest as you sit on the steps.

“You coming over, or are you just gonna sit there by yourself?” he teases lightly, his voice warm and inviting.

You glance up briefly, your cheeks burning. “Oh—I was just…getting used to the water,” you reply quickly, though it’s his attention that makes you hesitate, but slowly you begin to swim toward him, treading across the large pool.

Your nerves skyrocket as you get closer, your heart pounding in your chest. He watches you with that soft, curious gaze, like he’s waiting for you to say something but your eyes look away.

You feel awkward—your movements uncertain, like you don’t quite belong in the water anymore. The weight of his gaze and the tension in the air make your chest tighten, and for a moment, you consider climbing right out of the pool.

But then he flicks a small splash of water in your direction, catching you off guard.

“Hey!” you squeal, your shyness breaking slightly as you splash back.

“Oh, so you’ve got some fight in you,” he says with a laugh, his grin widening as he dodges your retaliation.

Within moments, the tension shifts, replaced by laughter as the two of you start splashing each other playfully the awkwardness washing away as the water between you is filled with lighthearted chaos.

“Alright,” he says, shielding his face from another of your splashes. “Let’s see if you can actually beat me at something. First one to the other side wins.”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, your heart thumping with anticipation.

You both push off the wall, your arms slicing through the water as you swim as fast as you can. You can feel him beside you, his movements strong and fluid making you push even harder to keep up. For a moment, it feels impossible to win, but somehow you manage to pull ahead.

You reach the other side first, gasping for air as you cling to the edge.

“I win!” you say, surprised and breathless, turning to him with a triumphant smile.

He leans against the wall beside you, smiling as he lets out a dramatic sigh of defeat.

“You beat me,” he says, his smile widening and for a moment his gaze lingers on you in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

The rest of the afternoon is light and carefree as the two of you lounge on pool floaties, laughter echoing across the water.

He playfully starts sending small waves your way, teasing you until you drift closer, then with a mischievous grin, he reaches out and tugs your waist, pulling you into the water with him.

Every touch and every brush of his hands on you feels exciting and playful, the tension from earlier fading, leaving only the exhilarating sense of being completely in the moment with him.

The two of you start playing a new game diving to the bottom of the pool to retrieve a small diving ring.

You race for it, your fingers brushing as you both reach it at the same time. Laughing and gasping for air, you surface together, water dripping from your faces as you hold the ring between you.

It’s only then you realize how close you are and the laughter fades, replaced by a charged silence as you stare at each other. The interest in his eyes is unmistakable as your heart pounds against your chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice soft, and reverent, his eyes lingering on yours, deeper and more intense, before dropping to your lips.

His own part slightly, his breaths shallow, as if he’s thinking about closing the distance and kissing you.

Your stomach flips, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. But the way his gaze stays on you it’s as if he already knows your shyness means you want him, and it makes your heart pound even harder.

Later that evening, after dinner, you find yourselves in the living room. You put on some music from your phone, scrolling through playlists as Austin refills his whiskey glass then comes over and nudges you lightly. “Let’s play a game,” he says, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Okay,” you say, placing your phone in the dock after finding the perfect playlist. Music plays softly through the speakers of the room as you join him on the plush couch. You sit next to him, cross-legged, curiosity piqued by the mischievous grin on his face.

“It’s called Never Have I Ever. Have you played it before?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his eyes locked on yours.

“No,” you say, shaking your head as you smile.

He leans forward, placing his drink on the end table, his voice low and playful as he explains, “It’s simple. We’ll take turns saying something we’ve never done to know each other better. If you’ve done it, you hold up a finger. If not, you don’t. First one to run out of fingers loses.”

You hesitate, shifting slightly on the couch, but eventually nod when the rules click into place. “Okay,” you say softly, your nervousness and curiosity mixing all at once.

He leans back, his grin easy. “I’ll go first …never have I ever skipped school.” He questions.

You slowly shake your head as you grin, keeping all your fingers down.

Austin smirks, lifting one of his hands and holding up a single finger.

You smile shyly, feeling a flicker of warmth at the thought of Austin as a rebellious teenager. He picks up his glass with his free hand, taking a slow sip.

“It’s your turn. Let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, setting it down, his relaxed posture making it look like he’s having far too much fun already.

You hesitate, then ask, “Never have I ever… been on a movie set.”

Austin’s lips quirk into a grin as he lifts another finger. “That one’s not fair,” he teases, leaning back against the couch. “I practically live on them.”

You grin with a playful glint in your eyes. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t count.”you retort.

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “Your dad would probably say I’ve spent more time on sets than I have at home.”

You smile, tucking your knees under you as you look at him, the warmth of his tone settling into something deeper between you.

Austin’s gaze lingers on you, his grin softening into something more thoughtful, his eyes tracing your face as if he’s thinking of something.

Then he leans slightly forward toward you, resting his elbow on his knee. “Alright, my turn,” he says, his voice lowering just a little, making your pulse quicken.

“Never have I ever… fallen for someone I shouldn’t,” he says, his eyes locking on yours in a way that makes your breath catch.

Your heart races, your cheeks warming as you quickly look away, unsure how to respond. But then, almost instinctively, you lift a finger, your breath shallow as the weight of your confession hangs between you.

He smiles faintly, leaning back and studying you for a moment before lifting his finger as well. “Guess we both have that in common,” he admits softly, his words carrying a weight that makes your stomach flutter.

It’s your turn, but you hesitate before speaking, the question personal to him. Your voice is quieter than before as you ask him. “Never have I ever… had my heart broken.”

His expression shifts slightly, the teasing grin slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of something raw beneath it. Slowly, Austin lifts another finger, his eyes meeting yours with the weight of his recent breakup.

“Never have I ever… been in love,” he says, in retaliation, his gaze holding yours and your heart races again unsure how to answer with your feelings for him. “I-I don’t know,” you say, uncertain.

“There’s one way to find out,” he says with a grin, his posture is relaxed but his eyes remain intently on yours with an intensity beneath his casual demeanor.

“Never have I ever… been kissed,” he says, his tone dropping lower, the question lingering, far more intimate than the others.

Your cheeks burn as you squirm under his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest and when you don’t lift a finger his lips curve into a faint knowing smile.

He leans forward, gently taking your hand in his and before you can fully process what’s happening, he lifts two of your fingers.

There’s a quiet understanding in his eyes, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing and what it means.

Confusion clouds your mind for a brief moment, but the thought vanishes as his lips press softly against yours.

You are stunned, your mind racing until you every thought slips away, the passion in his kiss consuming you entirely.

He pours every unspoken feeling, every unspoken word, into the kiss, his clean, masculine scent intoxicating as it mingles with the faint sweetness of whiskey on his lips.

His hands find your jaw, strong yet gentle, tilting your face up to him as if to ensure you feel every ounce of what he’s giving. Each press of his lips sends a slow, burning heat coursing through your veins, igniting something deep and unstoppable.

When his lips part to deepen the kiss a tingling sensation floods your entire body as your hands instinctively grip the fabric of the couch.

A warmth you’ve never felt before spreads through you, the sensation is overwhelming and perfect, every moment of your first kiss making your heart pound.

His hands gently take your wrists, pulling you closer into the kiss, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

As his lips press against yours, he tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss even more.

A soft sound of pleasure escapes your lips, his kiss so enticingly good, so intoxicating, it feels like nothing else in the world matters.

It’s thrilling and all-consuming as you understand exactly what it means—you want him, you want to stay pressed against him, to keep feeling everything he’s making you feel, every touch and every moment pulling you closer to him in ways you can’t resist.

As his mouth overtakes yours, your heart hammers in your chest, each beat making your blood rush. The more you kiss him the more a soft ache begins to build deep in your core, spreading with the warmth through your body.

You’re trembling, your chest rising and falling faster, trying to make sense of everything you’re feeling as your hips begin gently moving in time with your uneven breaths.

The strange thrilling pressure builds tighter and tighter inside you, leaving you dizzy, your mind spinning as you instinctively kiss him harder.

Your thoughts whirl in a storm of emotions, and before you’re lost to it completely, Austin gently pulls back.

Your eyes meet his, searching, full of questions you can’t yet put into words. The air between you charged with an unspoken energy as he looks at you with a soft smile.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as his hand brushes against your cheek, his touch warm and grounding. His fingers lingering for a moment, his gaze reverent as if he’s memorizing the way you look in this moment.

“We’ll finish our little game later,” he says his voice soft and full of warmth as his thumb grazes your jawline. “I have a few more points I’d like to earn with you .” He smiles, his eyes trailing over your face.

You nod, even though you can’t fully process his words, your breath still uneven, your chest tight with emotions you can’t quite name. The warmth of his touch is soothing on your skin, and a part of you aches for him to stay closer, to keep looking at you like that.

“It’s late,” he says gently, his tone laced with care as his hand drops from your jaw, leaving you feeling a sudden, quiet emptiness where his touch had been. “We should get some sleep.”

Your eyes follow him as he stands, the space between you suddenly feeling far too wide, not wanting him to go, the warmth of his presence already starting to fade.

“Good night,” he says, his lips curving into a soft smile that seems to hold back more than it reveals.

His gaze lingers on you, warm and knowing, as if he’s fully aware of the way he’s just shifted something in your world, then softly he grins before heading to his room.

Realizing he’s leaving, you regain your thoughts and manage to call out after him, “Good night, Austin,” your voice far dreamier than you intended.

As you sit alone, your fingers brush over your lips, replaying every moment of his kiss in your mind. No matter how hard you try to reason with yourself, no matter how much you know this shouldn’t have happened, the warmth of his touch and the way he looked at you lingers, making it impossible to ignore the truth—

You’re completely and hopelessly in love with him.

You take a nice, long shower in your room, your mind filled with thoughts of him, your body feeling changed in ways you can’t quite explain. After drying off, you slip into a soft tank top and a matching shorts, then step into your fuzzy slippers.

The way he kissed you lingers in your mind, making you crave more—not just his touch, but the way he made you feel.

The thought of just being close to him consumes you, like it could somehow solve all your problems.

As you settle into bed, your mind races, the overwhelming urge to be with him building until you can’t resist it any longer.

Without a second thought, you slide out of bed and step into your fuzzy slippers.

Grabbing your phone, you use its faint light to guide you as you quietly pad down the hallway and descend the stairs.

Your heart pounds as you reach the guest side of the house, the hallway stretching out in front of you. The air feels heavy with anticipation as you approach his door.

You notice it’s already slightly open, the faintest glow of light spilling out into the hallway, and without thinking, you gently push it open.

The room is dark, but the soft glow of moonlight filters in through the window, illuminating his form on the bed.

He’s wearing a white tee, his chest rising and falling steadily, his features calm in sleep. You hesitate for a moment, your fingers gripping the doorframe as nerves twist in your stomach.

“Austin,” you whisper sharply, but he doesn’t stir.

You step closer to his bedside, a faint smile on your lips at how peacefully he sleeps.

“Austin,” you say again softly as you touch his arm. This time, he stirs, his eyes slowly blinking before they settle on you.

“Can I sleep in your room?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He gives you a gentle sleepy smile and pats the bed beside him. “Of course,” he mumbles his voice tired.

He moves closer to the edge of the bed to allow space between you, his hand resting on the covers near him creating a subtle boundary.

By the time you pull the covers up to your chin, he’s already drifted back to sleep and slowly, you fall asleep too, feeling content just to be near him.

In the morning, the first rays of sunlight stream through the window, casting a golden glow across the room. You blink against the brightness, wanting to get up and close the drapes, but you freeze when you realize Austin is holding you.

His arm is draped around your waist, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the intimacy of his closeness sending a rush of both excitement and nerves through you.

Your cheeks flush as you wonder if it’s on purpose or simply by habit, but the closeness feels both thrilling and forbidden as you try to calm the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

For a moment, you lie still, unsure of what to do, but then the feeling of his steady breathing against your neck is so intimate that, slowly, almost instinctively, you press back into him, savoring the sensation of his body against yours.

It feels so good to be in his embrace that you close your eyes focusing on the comforting rhythm of his breathing until a hardness pokes insistently against you.

As first you don’t understand what could be resting so low between your thighs, until suddenly you realize —it’s definitely his cock.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as you try to shift away from it, but the movement only traps you further, the pressure rubbing tantalizingly between your legs. Your heart races, and you tell yourself to stop, but the sensation lingers, igniting something deep within you that you can’t ignore.

Before you can stop yourself your curiosity and attraction overpower the voice in your head telling you not to.

Slowly, carefully, you begin to move against him, the subtle motion sending waves of sensation through you. Your eye lids fluttering as the tip of him presses just right, drawing a soft sigh from your lips.

The feeling is intoxicating, the need growing stronger with every movement. You don’t fully understand why you want it so badly, but once you start, you can’t bring yourself to stop.

Each shift of your hips brings a new wave of pleasure, the ache inside of you is throbbing, demanding more.

Austin stirs slightly as your movements become more intentional, your body desperate for the release that hovers just out of reach.

His breathing shifts, deepening as his arm tightens instinctively around your waist. A low, raspy groan escapes his lips, his voice thick with arousal as it breaks the quiet.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispers, his tone both strained and reverent as his hand slides to your hip firmly guiding your movements to be more precise.

Soft cries begin to fall from your lips, each one blending with the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

He presses against you, as you push against him until you’re practically whimpering, incoherent with a need to satisfy an ache you’re unable to reach, then suddenly —Austin stops.

The stillness leaves you trembling, your body desperate for the relief he’s stolen away.

Before you can protest, he shifts onto his back pulling you on top of him. Your cheek rests on his neck as his chest presses against yours, trapping his hard cock between your bodies.

You can feel the sheer size of him reaching all the way to your naval, his cock warm and firm as it pulses against you.

The ache between your legs throbs painfully against his shaft, your wetness soaking through your panties as you straddle him.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, his touch firm but tender, grounding you in the moment as his lips brush your ear.

“Keep going for me,” he whispers, his voice soft and filled with understanding , each word laced with encouragement that ignites something deep inside you.

A wave of warmth spreads through your core at his words, and slowly, you begin to move, rocking your hips back and forth, the friction soaking his shaft with your arousal.

The sensation is intoxicating, each stroke against his hardness heightening the throbbing need within you.

His hands lower to your waist, steadying you as you find your rhythm, the feeling of him guiding you intensifying the pressure making you whimper softly in his ear.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, your nails grazing his skin as you push harder against him, the ache transforming into an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

“Just like that,” he whispers, his voice strained with arousal as his hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he guides your movements in to a deeper rhythm that sends shockwaves through your core.

Your breaths grow heavier, your mouth parting as moans spill freely from your lips, your mind clouding with bliss.

The wet friction between you grows more intense, every brush of his shaft against your sensitive clit making you tremble. Overcome by his touch and his words, you begin to move faster, grinding harder, the pleasure building so intensely it’s unbearable.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice full of praise as his hands tighten just enough to keep you steady. He lifts your hips slightly, helping you adjust your angle, and the new position sends a jolt of pleasure racing through your core. Your cries grow louder, more desperate, as he guides you closer to the edge.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body moves instinctively, chasing the release that’s so close it makes you dizzy.

He holds you tighter, his hands guiding your movements with precision, ensuring every grind presses perfectly against him. His deep groans blend with your cries, his pleasure evident in the way his cock twitches beneath you.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice heavy with need as his hands firmly grip your hips, forcing you down on him harder. The intensity sends your body spiraling, your breath catching as you writhe in the throes of overstimulation.

You moan loudly, your pleasure building to an overwhelming peak as your thighs tighten squeezing on his waist.

With a sharp cry, you come, the release crashing through you so intense your arousal streams over his cock, soaking him all the way through his boxers.

Austin groans softly, his breathing uneven as he holds you in place until you ride out your orgasm, then his hands gently grip your waist as he carefully lays you back on the bed.

He shifts effortlessly, his movements controlled and patient as he lifts your legs with ease. He slides your panties off with a slow, teasing pull then he parts your thighs wide, settling between them.

His fingertips brush against your soaked entrance, and your hips buck up instinctively, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

He pauses, reading your reaction with tenderness, his thumb gliding over your trembling stomach, soothing the uncertainty that lingers within you.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promises, his voice low and filled with care, his eyes steady on yours and you nod slowly, your cheeks flushed with the heat of anticipation

His fingers glide through your wetness, his touch both teasing and mind-altering as he takes his time exploring every inch of you, savoring how soaked you are.

He slowly presses a single finger inside you, and you gasp, the sensation both foreign and thrilling as your body reacts to him without hesitation, arching toward his touch as a soft, desperate sound falls from your lips.

His fingers are long and skilled and the way he glides just one inside you with perfect precision sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body, making you lose your mind with every firm measured stroke.

He watches your reaction intently, his blue eyes fixed on every gasp and tremble, his lips curving into a grin as you bite your lip, your cheeks flushed with heat.

“Just one finger feels this good?” he asks, his voice filled with teasing admiration. When you nod wordlessly, his grin deepens, and he slowly adds a second finger. The delicate stretch makes you gasp, your hips instinctively lifting toward him.

The sensation of two fingers is almost too much, but his movements are slow and steady, coaxing your body to adjust to him.

The stretch sends surges of pleasure through you, and soft moans begin spilling from your lips as he strokes you from the inside, his fingers curling just right.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, watching you intently, his fingers moving with precision, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles.

The combined sensations push you higher, your breaths quickening as your body trembles beneath him, teetering on the edge. “You’re doing so well for me,” he praises, his gaze warm and full of pride.

Just as you’re about to come, he presses a third finger inside, the stretch making your mind reel as you let out a desperate cry, your hips bucking against his hand as your body clenches around him.

Your protests dissolve into soft cries as his pace increases, his fingers stretching and preparing you with delicate thrusts. Your stomach tenses beneath his palm, your body chasing the pleasure he’s coaxing out of you.

“Fitting my fingers so perfectly,” he coaxes, his voice a mixture of encouragement and awe. “Wait until I’m inside you,” he promises, his tone lowering as you begin to lose yourself.

His fingers move deeper, stroking you in ways that send shocks of pleasure through every nerve in your body. His thumb continues its rhythmic circles, and as the tension in your core builds to a breaking point, you lose yourself completely, crying out as you your walls flutter tightly, feeling a release soak his fingers.

“Such a good girl” he whispers, his voice soft and full of pride, as he slows his movements, helping you come down from the peak as his other hand brushes over your trembling stomach, soothing you.

“You did so well for me,” he softly praises as he slowly pulls his fingers out. He watches your body shudder in response, the way your thighs tremble beneath him drawing a satisfied smile to his lips.

“You want more, don’t you?” he asks, his voice low and full of promise, his blue eyes dark with desire as they lock onto yours.

Your breath hitches, the lingering sensation of his touch making your head spin, and without hesitation, you nod eagerly, your voice hushed but full of need. “Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping from your lips. “Please, yes.”

His smile deepens, his hand settling on the hem of his shirt. With one smooth motion, he pulls it over his head, revealing the hard lines of his chest and the strength in his shoulders. You can’t help but let your eyes wander, taking him in, your breath catching as your cheeks flush deeply from the sight.

His chest is broad and perfectly sculpted, his abs defined, each muscle catching the soft morning light. The way his body moves, effortless and confidently as he lowers his boxers, only makes the heat inside you burn hotter.

Your eyes lower instinctively, and your breath hitches as you see his cock. He’s thick and incredibly hard, the sheer size of him overwhelming, sending a surge of heat through your core with a mix of awe and fascination.

Austin notices your reaction and grins. “Don’t worry,” he says his tone filled with promise, “We’ll make it fit.”

His words make your face flush hotter, the confidence behind them igniting something deep within as your eyes linger on his perfect physique.

You don’t care how impossible it seems or how overwhelming it feels. You know, without a doubt, you want him.

Austin lowers himself on top of you, his body pressing lightly against yours as he rests on his forearm, his weight supported by his elbow.

His lips find yours first, soft and lingering, his kiss deepening as his hand moves between your bodies, gripping the base of his cock as he guides the thick head along your entrance.

The first push of his tip inside is enough to make your body tense and jump, breaking the kiss. He pauses immediately, his forehead resting gently against yours “We’ll go slowly,” he says against your lips, his tone filled with care.

He kisses you again, this time softer, his lips moving slow and reassuring, coaxing you to relax under his touch. His words and the tenderness of his kiss gradually melt away the tension, drawing you deeper into the moment.

As you get lost in his kiss, your body instinctively softens to him, and he takes his chance. As he presses forward again, the stretch is undeniable, the thick tip of his cock pushing deeper, making you gasp against his lips. He shifts slightly, resting both elbows on either side of you, supporting his weight to focus his penetration.

You feel the growing pressure as he pushes forward, the blunt head stretching you slowly, demanding your body adjust to him. As a moan spills from your lips as a soft breathy groan escapes him, the sounds of your pleasure blending perfectly.

“You’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice edged with restraint as he holds himself back, giving you time to adjust.

The stretch is overwhelming but intoxicating, a mixture of sensations so new and consuming you can’t focus on anything but him.

Your body clenches instinctively, and he stills immediately, his hand moving to your thigh. His thumb traces slow, soothing strokes over your skin, grounding you, his touch steady and tender.

“You’re doing so well for me.” he breathes, his voice thick with reassurance and desire. “Just a little more. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He says and your eyes lock onto his as you softly nod.

He inches forward with painstaking care, his hips barely rocking as the pressure builds.

You make a high-pitched little cry, your head tossing back until his hand tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Are you my girl?” He asks, his voice low and coaxing, his gaze locking onto yours as he pushes into you slowly, deeply.

Your lungs gasp as he stretches you beyond your capacity, a moan slipping out in a long, trembling sound as his words settle over you.

The pleasure makes your body tense up, your thighs quivering, the intensity of the moment overwhelming until it feels like you might cry.

“Mm —hhh —y-yeah,” is all you finally manage, the word spilling out in a shaky string of sounds, your body trembling as you clutch at the sheets beneath you.

“Yeah?” he repeats as he grins, his voice soft and full of approval. He presses another inch into you, his movements steady and intentional, savoring the way your body struggles to take him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your temple. “You’re doing so well for me. So beautiful, so perfect.”

His hips press forward again, drawing a higher-pitched cry from your throat, and he smiles, his tone sweet and coaxing as he whispers, “It’s all in now”

He begins to thrust steadily and you take everything he gives. His breaths come in faster, deeper, as the sensation of your tightness begins threatening to overwhelm him. His jaw clenches, his body trembling with restraint as he pushes deeper, harder, his cock twitching inside you.

“Taking me so perfectly,” he rasps, his voice rough, barely controlled. He leans forward, his hand slipping to your waist as he shifts his angle, pulling back slightly before thrusting forward in a slow, deliberate motion that makes you cry out, your head falling back.

“Im so deep” he rasps, his words tense with restraint and awe as his hips roll forward again, pressing into you so completely it feels like he’s everywhere at once.

Your body quivers underneath him, your nails gripping the sheets as his new angle sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“I want you to be mine,” he breathes, his voice low and coaxing as he quickens his pace, his control slipping under the weight of his need.

“You’re all I want, your perfect,” he whispers, his eyes gazing into yours. His hips drive deeper, each thrust sending a shockwave of sensation through you, the ache sinking deep into your core in the most intoxicating way.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping firmly as he pulls you tighter against him, intensifying the connection between you. The relentless pressure leaves you gasping for air, your body trembling as you cling to him.

Your soft cries turn into desperate moans as the stretch and pressure drive you to the edge, your body tightening around him, making him groan. “Squeezing me..— so perfect..you’re so good to me.”he whispers, his tone trembling with intensity.

Your body reacts uncontrollably, clenching and quivering as waves of pleasure ripple through you, the heat building and spreading outward.

The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, and the way he thrusts into you, sends you spiraling.

He groans low and deep, his hips stuttering against yours, his breath catching. “S-so good, I—I’m gonna come,” he rasps, his voice barely coherent, breaking as he grips your hips tightly, anchoring himself to you.

Every sound he makes as his gaze locks onto yours is a raw testament to how much he’s losing himself in you. The pressure inside you peaks, the intensity of his need for you pushing you over the edge. You come undone, breathless, your body shuddering as your orgasm crashes over you.

“That’s my girl,” he says softly, his voice filled with reverence as he withdraws, his cock glistening. Your body quivers, your cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly as he kneels between your thighs, his hand wrapping around his base as he begins stroking his cock, his arm flexing faster with his movements as he watches you.

You can’t take your eyes off him, the way his brow furrows and his jaw clenches as pleasure overtakes him. His lips part, his breathing heavy, and you see every little shudder, every low groan, wishing it was you pulling those sounds from him.

Unable to resist, you guide his other hand to your mouth, your tongue swirling over the pad of his thumb as you suck it gently. His breath catches, his brow knitting tighter as he strokes his cock faster, spurred on by the sight of you. You suck more firmly, hollowing your cheeks, and with a loud groan, his body tenses.

He comes, his release spilling across your stomach as he climaxes, the silky warmth covering your navel while your thighs clench together in response.

He lets out a soft breathy sound as he empties every last drop on you, his chest heaving as he sluggishly grabs his shirt from the bed, carefully wiping you clean.

Once satisfied, he collapses onto the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, holding you so close you melt against him, your body fitting perfectly to his.

Your breathing slows as the two of you lay together in comfortable silence until he tilts your chin up, his eyes meeting yours.

“You’re my girl now,” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth as his hand strokes your hair. “You’re perfect for me, you know that?”

You smile up at him, turning into some soft needy little thing, utterly lost in the way he looks at you.

His lips brush softly against your temple as he speaks, his voice warm and steady. “We have to tell everyone” he reveals and you freeze, your cheeks burning as you avoid his gaze.

“Austin…” you begin, your voice trembling, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t think I can. My parents would never allow it.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want you to be my pretty little secret. I want everyone to know.” he says with certainty, gently sliding his hand to cup your cheek.

Your chest tightens, guilt mixing with fear as you shake your head. “You don’t understand,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “…M-my dad will kill you.”

Austin’s lips turn into a sly grin, his hand still cupping your cheek. “Your dad is my biggest fan,” he teases, his tone playful.

You blink at him, startled by his confidence. “Austin, I’m serious,” you insist, your voice trembling. “He’s very protective.”

“I know,” he says, his smile softening “But I want you.” He confesses, his thumb stroking your cheek as his gaze locks onto yours.

He pauses for a moment as he notices your worry and slowly interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I want you to be happy with me,” he says, his voice lowering, the vulnerability in his admission making your heart ache. “And I don’t want you to ever worry about what anyone else thinks,” he confesses, and as he looks into your eyes, his conviction is unmistakable.

The weight of his certainty presses against your hesitation, and you feel your defenses softening as you look at him.

Austin’s lips curve into a small, confident smile as his hand gently brushes your cheek.

“Your dad might be intimidating, but it’s because he loves you. And I’ll make sure he knows how much I care about you.”

For a moment, you let his words settle over you as you softly smile, the idea of being with him suddenly feeling less impossible. When Austin leans in to kiss your forehead, the warmth of his lips lingers, grounding you in a way you’ve never felt before.

His arms tighten around you as he holds you close and suddenly the idea of being with Austin shifts from fantasy into something real, something you could actually have.

The rest of the day passes in a haze of affectionate moments . By the pool, Austin sits on one of the lounge chairs with his camera, snapping photos as you lay relaxed on a pool float in the water.

“Turn toward me,” he says, his tone soft but commanding, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks through the lens.

You adjust your position, resting on your side the sun glinting off the water and casting a soft glow over your skin. The gentle waves lap around you, and the warmth of the sun mingles with the intensity of his gaze.

You love the way he looks at you—focused, attentive, like you’re the only thing that matters in that moment. His presence is magnetic, and every click of the camera feels like a quiet acknowledgment of how much he admires you.

After he lowers the camera, his lips curve into a knowing grin.

“You’re stunning,” he says softly, the words making your cheeks flush as warmth spreads up your neck.

He sets the camera aside and moves to sit on the pool’s edge, his feet dipping into the water. His eyes never leave yours, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he crooks his finger, beckoning you to come.

You hesitate for a moment, your nerves fluttering wildly, but his expression is gentle, patient. Bashfully, you lower yourself into the water, gliding toward him until you’re right in front of where he sits.

Without a word, his hands hook under your arms, firm yet gentle , and with an effortless pull, he lifts you out of the water and onto his lap. Droplets slide down your skin as his fingers brush over your cheeks, his gaze locking onto yours making everything else fade away.

He leans in his lips capturing yours in a kiss and your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. As the warmth of his kiss envelops you his hands slides down your back, steadying you as his mouth delicately moves against yours, the connection making your heart race as your thoughts blur.

When he finally pulls back, you’re breathless, your chest rising and falling as his forehead comes to rest gently against yours. His smile is soft but filled with a quiet intensity, his eyes searching yours.

“I don’t want this to ever end,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, his words carrying a weight that leaves you speechless.

You sit there for a moment, wrapped in each others embrace, the surroundings fading as the connection between you grows impossibly stronger. The way he looks at you, as if you’re the only person in his world, making your heart swell with emotion as his words echo in your mind.

Later, after you’ve dried off, you invite him into your room.

The walls are adorned with your artwork—sketches, paintings, and studies of the little details you find beautiful in everyday life. A queen bed sits in the center of the room, covered with soft, inviting blankets and pillows that feel as comforting as a secret haven.

Nearby, your desk, a creative chaos of pencils, brushes, and half-finished drawings, sits under a large window overlooking the pool. The late afternoon light filters through, casting soft shadows across the room, giving your room a warm glow.

Austin steps inside, his gaze sweeping over the space as he smiles. “Your room is amazing,” he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. He steps closer to the wall where your sketches are pinned, leaning in to study each one. “Have you drawn me yet?” He asks with flirtatious curiosity.

You shake your head, nervously. “I… I haven’t I wouldn’t even know where to start.” You say biting back a smile.

“Start now,” he says simply, as he sits on your bed his palms rested back. “Draw me.”

You sigh dreamily as you grab a sketchbook and settle at your desk. Austin sits across from you, his expression softening as he watches you work.

At first, you’re hyper-aware of his gaze, but as your pencil moves across the page, you lose yourself in the rhythm of creating, the lines and shadows taking shape of his beautiful face and neck.

You finish the drawing and hand it to him, your heart pounding as he takes it.

He studies it for a long moment, his expression unreadable, his eyes tracing every line and shadow with an intensity that makes your heart race.

Finally, he looks up at you, his voice soft but full of emotion as he grins. “This is incredible,” he says, holding the sketch as though it’s something precious. “I’m going to frame it at my house.”

You laugh softly, the sound bashful as you lower your gaze, “You love it that much?” You ask your cheeks warming under his attention.

“I love it that much,” he repeats, a grin breaking across his face.

Before you can say more, he leans closer, setting the sketch carefully aside as his hand brushes your cheek. His touch is warm, his thumb gently grazing your skin as he tilts your face up toward him, and then he kisses you.

His lips softly press against yours, and the world around you seems to blur until there’s only him. His hand slides to the back of your neck, as the kiss deepens, and your fingers instinctively clutch his shirt to steady yourself.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his eyes searching yours with a warmth that leaves you breathless. “Do you know how precious you are?” he asks, his voice filled with soft sincerity.

You look up at him dreamily, your heart fluttering as his words settle over you, his undivided attention making you feel treasured in the most thrilling way.

Dinner is a quiet affair, the two of you sharing smiles and affectionate glances as you eat. The sky outside darkens to deep indigo, the sounds of the night filling the air.

Austin leans back in his chair, his plate nearly empty, as he finally brings up the topic you’ve been avoiding. “Your parents arrive around eight tomorrow, right?” he asks, his voice calm but curious, his eyes studying you with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

You nod, absently pushing your food around your plate. “Yes…I’m so nervous” you reply softly.

Austin leans forward, his hand brushing yours lightly, drawing your gaze to him. “Don’t be,” he says, his voice steady, filled with quiet confidence. “I’ll be here.”he confirms, his thumb lingering against your knuckles.

The warmth in his words calms you slightly, though the thought of your father discovering your relationship with Austin still sends a wave of anxiety through you.

After dinner, as the table is cleared and the night winds down, Austin walks with you to the stairs. At the base he pauses, his hand brushing against yours.

“Good night,” he says softly and he leans in his lips brushing against yours, with a soft kiss.

When he pulls back, his hand remains on yours, his thumb stroking gently over your knuckles. “Sleep well,” he says, his voice low, and you nod, though your heart aches at the thought of parting for the night.

You don’t let go until the very last moment, your fingers reluctantly slipping from his hand as he heads to his room. It feels like a part of you is tethered to him by the quiet promise lingering in his gaze.

During the night you are unable to sleep, the silence of the house feeling oddly oppressive without him nearby.

No matter how many times you close your eyes, your mind drifts back to him, the emptiness of your room only amplifying the ache in your chest.

Finally, unable to rest, you slip out of bed in your pajama shirt stepping into your slippers and padding quietly downstairs to the guest hall.

The faint glow of moonlight filters through the hallway as you approach his room, the door slightly open and you push it gently, careful not to make a sound.

Austin is lying on his bed, propped up slightly against the headboard fingers interlaced on his chest, his face illuminated by the soft light spilling in through the window.

He’s awake, his gaze lifting to meet yours the moment you step inside. A small smile tugs at his lips, and he sits up slowly, the sheet slipping down to reveal his bare chest.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks softly, his voice low and warm.

You shake your head, unable to keep the small smile from your face. “No,” you admit quietly.

“Come here,” he says, his tone inviting as he pats the space between his legs.

Without hesitation, you cross the room and climb onto the bed straddling his lap. His hands wraps around your waist and before you can fully settle, his strong hands guide you back onto the mattress the sheet falling away to reveal he’s already naked.

His touch is gentle as he pulls your oversized shirt over your head, his palms warm as they press against your hips, holding you steady. “I missed you,” he whispers, lips softening into something deeper as his gaze meets yours, and the intensity taking your breath away.

Your heart is pounding as he slowly shifts, his body gliding down the bed with purpose. His hands slide over your thighs, spreading them just enough as his lips trail kisses along your skin, every touch a mix of tenderness and fire. When his face lowers between your legs, you feel a nervous thrill, your pulse racing so fast you’re certain he can hear it.

The first touch of his mouth is euphoric, a sensation so overwhelming that your hips tilt instinctively toward him, seeking more.

You gasp, your fingers curling into the sheets as his lips and tongue move with a precision so pleasurable it makes you dizzy. Each flick of his tongue against you is delicate and perfect, his focus unwavering, leaving you trembling under the weight of his attention.

The rhythm he sets is slow and unhurried savoring every soft moan, every shiver you give him. His mouth moves against you skillfully as he flicks his tongue, coaxing sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make, and just when you think you can’t take any more, he slips one fingers inside.

You moan as he glides it in and out slowly testing your limits, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

Your breath hitches and your hips tilt instinctively toward him wanting more. His lips curve into a slight, satisfied grin before he adds a second, his fingers working in a steady rhythm that sends your thoughts scattering.

His tongue flicks your clit as you cling to the sheets and just when your body begins to adjust, he slides in a third finger. The stretch is intense, the ache intoxicating, so much so that it’s almost too much to handle.

His fingers curl inside you perfectly as his tongue continues its relentless focus, leaving you trembling. Every nerve feels alive, every sensation heightened as the pressure builds into something overwhelming and utterly consuming.

You’re completely lost in the pleasure he gives, your walls fluttering tightly around his fingers as the tension builds into something unstoppable. It’s mind-numbing, as the world falls away and there’s only him and the way he’s making you feel.

As you orgasm, it’s intense and all consuming and your fingers desperately tangle in his hair, holding him close as he guides you through every last shiver from your body.

You can barely catch your breath, your mind blissfully blank as he looks up at you, his grin softening into something tender, almost reverent.

He slowly rises, his hands resting on your trembling thighs, his thumbs brushing the soft skin as if grounding you. “Are you tired now?” he teases, his voice rich with affection, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

You shake your head no as you grin, unable to form words as your chest rises and falls, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you. The intensity in his gaze makes your pulse quicken all over again, your body already craving for more.

“Of course you’re not tired,” he mutters with a sly grin, shifting slightly. He balances himself on one of your thighs, his hand moving between his legs as he presses his cock against you, teasing just enough for you to feel him as he positions himself.

You shudder at the sensation, his hardness brushing against your slick warmth, nudging insistently at your entrance. The anticipation coils tightly within you, your breath catching as you feel the pressure building.

He pauses, looking down at you, his free hand brushing your hair back with a tenderness that contrasts the intensity of the moment as his eyes search yours, his gaze deep and steady.

“You ready for me?” he asks, his voice low, almost reverent, as he lowers down, his forearms resting on either side of your head.

You manage a small nod, unable to form words as your chest rises and falls under his gaze and he smiles at your response, his lips finding yours in a kiss so soft and passionate it coaxes you to relax beneath him.

As he breaks the kiss, his focus shifts, and slowly, carefully, he begins to press forward. The tip of him pushes inside, the stretch so tight it steals the air from your lungs and he stops, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Its okay,” he whispers, his voice soothing as his hand cups your face. “Just breathe.” His touch steadies you, his patience evident as he inches forward, the pressure intensifying with every slow movement.

The sensation is overwhelming, your body accommodating him bit by bit, the fullness he creates returning just as intense.

He leans down, kissing you again, this time slower, deeper, grounding you in the connection as he presses further, claiming you completely. His jaw clenches, a groan escaping him as he grips your hip with one hand, steadying himself.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “So tight… so perfect.”

You whimper, your body adjusting to the overwhelming sensation as every inch of him fills you completely. He presses his hips against you and it feels like too much, his cock stretching you in ways that leave you breathless your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He rests his forehead against yours his voice breathless. “You take me so well,” he whispers, his lips brushing yours. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

As he begins to gently thrust your tightness gives way to a pleasure so profound it steals the air from your lungs. His hips roll in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each drag of his cock pulling a moan from your lips. The way you clench around him makes his control falter and he presses deeper, each movement more desperate than the last.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, his eyes locked onto yours, his voice rough with emotion. “So perfect for me.”

The connection between you is overwhelming, his gaze holding yours as your bodies move together. Every deep thrust sends waves of sensation through you as you moan beneath him. His hand slips between you, his thumb finding your clit making your back arch and your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Austin,” you gasp, your voice trembling as your pleasure peaks and he catches your gaze, his intensity pulling you under. “I’m so close,” he whispers, his voice shaky. “I love what you do to me.” He says breathlessly.

His head falls forward, his chest brushing against yours as he thrusts harder, his breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps. His jaw clenches then his lips part slightly as a deep, guttural groan escapes him.

His hips press against you, grinding in a rhythm that’s desperately possessive, his body driven by pure need. You can feel every ounce of his restraint slipping away as he buries himself deeper, the way he moves filling you so completely it leaves you in a state of euphoria.

When his eyes meet yours, his expression is pure, unguarded passion—his lips parted slightly, as his muscles tighten with the effort of holding back, savoring every last second of your pleasure together. The dilated pupils in his blue eyes burn with intensity, a mix of devotion, hunger, and raw vulnerability that makes your heart stutter.

You immediately reach for him, your hands gently cupping his face as you pull him down to you. Your lips crash together in a kiss that’s fiery and unrelenting, his thrusts never faltering as his mouth claims yours. It’s all-consuming, a fusion of passion and connection that sends shivers through your entire body.

His groan vibrates against your lips, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he matches the rhythm of his kiss to the rhythm of his body, leaving you lost in him, every thrust drawing you closer together.

The moment is so intimate that it pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you as your body clenches around him, and the satisfying little moans you make become his undoing.

His rhythm falters as he buries himself fully, his body shuddering against yours. He holds you tightly, his face buried in your neck as he reaches his peak, his groans mingling with your soft cries.

With a sharp, regretful groan, he quickly slips out of you, his body trembling with the effort to hold back even a second longer. The loss of your tight warmth around him makes him falter, his forehead falling against your shoulder as his hand wraps around his cock.

“I wish I could stay inside you,” he rasps, his voice thick with longing and frustration, every word dripping with the truth of how much he wants you completely. But as his release overtakes him, his restraint crumbles, and his hand moves with desperate intensity.

The first rush of come spills onto your skin, his groan turning guttural filled with unrestrained pleasure and then he gasps, as his body shudders, his release painting you in warm streaks.

You watch his expression torn between adoration and a flicker of longing, his breathing uneven as the last waves of pleasure wash over him.

As he comes down his hand strokes above the mess he’s made, “I’ll always want to be inside you” he says reverently, and then he leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, his other hand tracing soothingly over your thigh.

He leaves the bed only for a moment returning to carefully wipe you clean. Then he climbs in beside you resting you against him as he holds your hand in his.

For a moment, neither of you move, your bodies perfect against each other, the connection between you so profound it leaves you both speechless. Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours with a look so full of tenderness it makes your heart ache.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, brushing a kiss against your forehead, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Everything.”

The next morning, sunlight streams into the room, but you don’t mind. You’re curled up against Austin’s chest, completely content, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm against your ear. You’d fallen asleep without even realizing it, and now, wrapped in his warmth, the rest of the world feels a million miles away.

It isn’t until you hear the sound of a car doors slamming outside that your eyes snap open, panic flooding your veins. You sit up quickly, your heart pounding as you recognize the voices coming from downstairs—your parents.

“Where are they?” your dad’s stern voice echoes through the house, commanding and sharp.

“Honey, we’re back” your mom calls sweetly, her tone soft but expectant.

You turn to Austin, wide-eyed and terrified, clutching the blanket to your chest. “They’re home,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Austin stretches lazily, an amused grin spreading across his face as though this is all some sort of game. “Relax,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing gently down your arm. “I’ll stall for you.”

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling on his sweats and a white tee.

As he leaves the room you scramble to put your clothing back on, fumbling with your top as you hear Austin down the hall, calm and collected.

“Good morning, wow you guys must be exhausted I’ll definitely start the espressos” he says casually, and you can picture him grinning as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

By the time you manage to creep upstairs, you dive into your bathroom, turning on the shower just as your mom’s soft knock sounds on your door.

“Sweetheart? Come downstairs when you’re ready,” she calls.

“Okay!” you reply loudly, trying to sound as normal as possible while your heart pounds in your chest.

You take a quick shower to calm your nerves, pulling on fresh clothes and towel-drying your hair as fast as possible before heading downstairs.

As you enter the kitchen you can’t even bring yourself to meet your father’s eyes and instead, you rush over to your mom, giving her a quick hug.

Austin is seated at the table, espresso in hand, grinning like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His relaxed demeanor only heightens your anxiety as you glance nervously at your dad, who watches you closely, his espresso hovering midair.

“Everything go well while we were gone?” He asks, his tone casual but his sharp gaze narrowing slightly.

You swallow hard and nod quickly. “Y-yeah. Everything was fine,” you stammer, feeling your cheeks burn.

“Why are you acting all skittish?” he asks, his brow furrowing as his eyes look you over clearly mulling over your flustered state.

Your stomach twists, and you feel like bolting from the room until Austin, grins and says, “She kept staying up past her bedtime.”

Your mom and dad exchange amused looks as they chuckle softly. Your dad shakes his head, pulling you into a quick hug. “I missed you, kid,” he says gruffly, and for a moment, the tension eases as you hug him back.

The rest of the day feels like a balancing act. You and Austin join your parents for breakfast as they recount stories from the film festival, but your mind is elsewhere, constantly on edge as Austin runs his hand along your thigh under the table, squeezing gently enough make you breath catch.

After breakfast as you’re putting the ingredients away in the pantry, he slips in behind you carrying a loaf of bread. His presence mischievous as he leans close“Can I tell them yet ?” He whispers.

You’re stunned and before you can answer, he kisses your lips, lingering just a second too long. You push at him, trying to keep your composure, but you grin your heart racing as he slips out, leaving you flustered.

Later, as you walk past the living room, you catch Austin and your dad deep in conversation about an upcoming project.

Your dad is at the bar cart, pouring drinks, while Austin sits back in one of the leather armchairs, his posture relaxed, one ankle resting on his knee.

You try to walk through quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, but but as you pass by Austin’s chair his hand brushes against your hip, squeezing it firmly.

Your breath catches, your entire body tensing as heat rushes to your face. Austin grins at your flustered state, his hand settling back casually on the armrest as though nothing happened.

Your dad pauses mid-sentence, his words hanging in the air as he turns slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to figure out what just happened.

Austin, unfazed, leans forward slightly in his chair, drawing attention back to himself. “You still thinking about filming in the fall?” he asks smoothly.

Your dad grunts in agreement, nodding as he turns back to pour the second glass. “Seems like a good time for it—less competition for the filming location.”he says, distracted again.

Taking the opportunity, Austin turns his head toward you, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he mouths, Now?

You shake your head frantically, your eyes wide, a mix of panic and disbelief flashing across your face. He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction, and you scurry off, your heart pounding as you make it to the safety of the hallway.

The sound of their conversation fades behind you, but the moment lingers, leaving you breathless and more flustered than ever.

The mix of nervousness and thrill leaves you on edge, every small interaction with Austin feeling like a dangerous yet irresistible game.

In the evening the dining room buzzes with lively conversation, the large round table set elegantly under a soft glow.

The scent of roasted vegetables and herbed chicken fills the air as your mom recounts a story from their trip, her voice animated as laughter ripples around the room.

You sit quietly, unable to focus. Every glance at Austin sends your thoughts spinning. He’s seated beside you, the warm glow of the room making him look ethereal like he’s stepped of a portrait, effortlessly perfect.

As he listens to your parents, he takes a sip of wine, his gaze flicking to you with a grin that makes your heart race.

Your breath catches when his hand brushes against your thigh as he sets his glass down. His fingers linger for a moment before he takes your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. Your gaze meets his, and he offers you a soft, reassuring smile.

And then, to your utter shock, he brings your joined hands up, placing them deliberately on the table in full view of your parents.

The clinking of silverware stops and the room falls into a sudden, deafening silence.

Your father freezes mid-sip of his wine, his sharp, commanding gaze locking onto your intertwined hands.

“I knew it!” he exclaims, his loud voice heavy with an intensity that makes you flinch. The words echo in the room, and your heart sinks as fear knots your stomach. You stare at the polished wood of the table, cheeks burning, your hand trembling in Austin’s grasp.

You can’t bring yourself to look up, the weight of your guilt suffocating. Your mind races, bracing for his anger and disappointment.

But then Austin’s grip tightens slightly signaling you to look up.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lift your gaze, expecting the worst. Instead, you’re met with a sight that leaves you stunned.

Your father’s face is flushed, his cheeks red—not with anger, but with a wide grin spread across his face. His dark eyes, so often stern and unreadable, gleam with unmistakable pride.

“I knew you two had it in for each other!” your dad yells with a loud laugh that fills the room. “I told you, honey,” he adds, nudging your mom as he pushes his chair back and stands.

His imposing presence, which always made him seem larger than life, is now softened by overwhelming joy.

Your breath escapes in a shaky rush, the tension in your chest melting away as relief floods through you. Your dad comes around the table, his gruff demeanor cracking entirely as he claps a hand on Austin’s shoulder, then pulls him up into a quick, firm, heartfelt hug.

“I’ve been rooting for this all along,” your dad admits, his voice gruff but filled with warmth. “If it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you, Austin.”

Austin smiles, a rare bashfulness showing through. “She’s in good hands,” he says, his tone steady but full of quiet conviction.

Your dad’s gaze softens further as he places a hand on your shoulder. “This brings me so much joy,” he says sincerely, his smile unwavering as he looks at you both with pride.

Austin glances at you, his eyes shining with warmth and affection, and you feel the world tilt slightly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your mom claps her hands together, breaking the moment. “Come on, honey, let’s have a toast—our daughter is dating Austin Butler!” she exclaims, laughing in delight as she reaches for the wine bottle to pour another round.

As Austin sits back down beside you, he squeezes your hand on the table, your fingers intertwining with his as he leans in, placing a soft affectionate kiss on your cheek.

Gazing into his eyes you feel a sense of gratitude and relief wash over you, and for the first time, you let yourself fully believe what Austin has known all along: you’re meant to be

🌹End

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sinful-sonnet · 1 month ago

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Whiskey & Wildflowers

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Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader | pre-outbreak au

W/C: 7.6k

Content warnings: age gap dynamics, power imbalance, suggestive themes, male masturbation, emotional tension, alcohol use,

Intro: In the heat of an Austin summer, you attend a backyard barbecue hosted by your father’s best friend, Joel Miller. What begins as a familiar gathering slowly brews with unspoken tension, lingering glances, and buried emotions. As the night unfolds, boundaries blur between friendship and something deeper, leaving you to wrestle with feelings you can’t quite name—and a connection that neither of you is ready to admit.

It was another sweltering afternoon in Austin, the kind that left you sticky and tired before noon. You were already regretting your choice of denim shorts, feeling the fabric cling to your skin as you stood at Joel Miller’s door.

The yearly barbeque was a big deal for your family—and by extension, you. Mr. Miller always hosted it, a tradition that had been going strong since before you were born. Your dad had been friends with Joel since their high school days, and the bond between them had always felt unshakable.

Still, the thought of facing Joel alone gave you pause.

You glanced at the wood-paneled door, hand hovering as you tried to steel yourself to knock. Before you could, the door swung open, and there he was.

Joel Miller.

He stood tall, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway, his presence commanding as always. His face was rugged, lined from years of hard work and Texas sun, but his dark eyes still carried that spark of warmth you’d known all your life.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greeted, his voice low and rough, like gravel smoothed over by time. He tilted his head toward the open door. “C’mon in. It’s too damn hot to be standing out there.”

You swallowed hard, the nickname making you feel simultaneously small and something else entirely. He’d been calling you that since you were a child, but now that you were an adult, it landed differently. Still, you plastered on a polite smile and stepped inside.

The house smelled like barbeque sauce and charcoal, familiar and comforting. Joel led you toward the kitchen, where he was busy preparing for the event. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms dusted with fine hair, and you tried not to stare.

“You get roped into helpin’ your old man today?” Joel asked, glancing at you over his shoulder as he arranged a platter of steaks.

“Something like that,” you replied, leaning against the counter. “He said I’d better show up, or you’d come drag me here yourself.”

Joel chuckled, a deep, rich sound that warmed the room more than the summer heat ever could. “He’s not wrong.” He shot you a teasing look, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you busied yourself with grabbing a glass of water to hide it. You weren’t sure if it was the heat or Joel himself that was getting to you, but you knew you needed to keep your cool.

“I guess I should ask if you need any help,” you offered, trying to keep your tone light.

Joel smirked, handing you a tray of vegetables to take outside. “There’s plenty to do, kiddo. Can’t let you off the hook that easy.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you followed him to the backyard, where the grill was already smoking. People would be arriving soon, but for now, it was just the two of you.

And despite the heat, you found yourself wishing it could stay that way just a little longer.

•———

The first wave of guests hadn’t arrived yet, leaving you and Joel in an oddly peaceful bubble as you arranged the vegetables on the table near the grill. He was preoccupied with adjusting the heat on the grill, and you found yourself sneaking glances at the way the muscles in his arms flexed with every small movement.

The moment was interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your back pocket. You fished it out and glanced at the screen—your dad’s name flashing across the display.

“Hang on,” you told Joel, stepping a few feet away before answering.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m running a little late,” he said, his voice crackling slightly over the line. “Stopped to grab some beer on the way, but the lines here are ridiculous. Let Joel know for me, will ya?”

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who was watching you with a curious tilt to his head. “Sure thing,” you replied.

“Thanks. Don’t let him give you too much grief, alright?” your dad joked before hanging up.

You turned back to Joel, pocketing your phone. “That was Dad,” you said, trying to sound casual. “He’s running late. Stopped to grab some beer.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Figures,” he said, shaking his head with a half-smile. “Man can never seem to stick to a schedule.”

You laughed softly, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingered on you for just a moment too long. “He said not to give me too much grief about it.”

Joel smirked, stepping closer. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’ll save all my grief for him when he gets here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling back. “Good to know.”

Joel turned his attention back to the grill, tossing a couple of steaks on the hot grate. “Guess that means it’s just us for a bit longer,” he said, his tone casual but his words settling deep in your chest.

The idea of being alone with him—just the two of you—made your heart thrum faster. You weren’t sure if it was the heat of the day or Joel’s presence that was making you feel this way, but either way, you weren’t about to complain.

“Guess so,” you said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Joel shot you a crooked grin, the kind that always managed to make your stomach flutter. “Well, kiddo, guess that means you’re my second in command until your dad shows up. Hope you’re up for the challenge.”

You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms. “You sure you can handle me being in charge, Mr. Miller?”

Joel laughed, the sound deep and warm. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

And just like that, the sweltering Texas afternoon didn’t seem so unbearable anymore.

As the heat of the grill mingled with the sun bearing down, you found yourself relaxing into the rhythm of Joel’s company. He was easy to talk to in a way that sometimes felt dangerous—too natural, too effortless.

You grabbed the platter of steaks Joel had seasoned earlier and leaned across the grill to pass it to him. It was a simple action, innocent enough, but you didn’t anticipate the way your body would press just slightly too close to his as you reached forward.

Joel froze for a fraction of a second, his large hand brushing against yours as he took the platter from you. The fleeting touch sent a jolt up your arm, and you quickly stepped back, muttering, “Sorry about that.”

But the apology barely registered in Joel’s mind.

His jaw tightened as he focused on the grill, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he adjusted the grate. The faint brush of your skin against his had ignited something in him—something he wasn’t proud of.

Control yourself, Miller, he thought, gripping the metal tongs a little harder than necessary.

“Careful, kiddo,” Joel said, his voice rougher than usual as he glanced at you. “Don’t want you burnin’ yourself.”

You blinked, looking down at the grill and realizing just how close you’d been to the heat. “Right. Thanks.” You tried to shrug it off, but your face felt like it was on fire—and not from the Texas sun.

Joel cleared his throat, turning back to the grill. He focused on flipping the steaks, trying to push away the inappropriate thoughts creeping into his mind. You weren’t a kid anymore, he reminded himself. You were grown now, independent, confident. But that didn’t change the fact that you were his best friend’s daughter.

And yet, the way you’d leaned over, the scent of your shampoo lingering in the air between you—it was testing every bit of his resolve.

“You alright over there?” you asked, your voice breaking through his thoughts.

Joel glanced at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if to shield his thoughts. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. “Just thinkin’ I might’ve made this fire a little too damn hot.”

You smiled at his deflection, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s not the grill that’s too hot,” you teased lightly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Joel paused, his tongs hovering over the grill for a second too long. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “Watch it, kiddo,” he said, the edge of warning in his tone softened by the faintest hint of a smile.

You weren’t sure what had shifted between you, but you could feel the tension crackling in the air like a distant summer storm. And from the way Joel’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the tongs, you knew you weren’t the only one feeling it.

•——

The tension was broken by the sound of a car pulling up to the curb, followed by another, and then the chatter of voices filtering through the backyard fence.

“Looks like the cavalry’s here,” Joel said, stepping back from the grill and tossing the tongs onto the side table with a clatter. His tone was casual, but you caught the way he exhaled—like he’d been holding his breath for too long.

You turned toward the yard’s gate as it swung open, revealing a group of familiar faces. Neighbors, family friends, and coworkers trickled in, their voices filling the quiet space you and Joel had shared just moments before.

“Joel!” someone called out, raising a hand in greeting. “Smells amazing already!”

Joel grinned, his usual laid-back demeanor sliding effortlessly into place. “Y’all are just in time,” he called back. “Grab a drink and settle in. Food’ll be ready soon.”

You stepped aside as more guests entered, mingling and laughing. A few people stopped to greet you, but most were eager to catch up with Joel, who was the center of attention as always.

You busied yourself arranging plates and napkins on the table, trying to ignore the lingering heat in your chest from the earlier moment. Joel was Joel—your dad’s best friend, a man you’d known your whole life. Whatever you’d felt earlier was nothing more than a fleeting reaction.

“Hey, sweetheart!”

You turned to see your dad walking into the yard, a case of beer tucked under one arm and a sheepish grin on his face.

“About time,” Joel said, clapping him on the back as he took the beer. “Thought I’d have to put the kiddo to work in your place all day.”

Your dad laughed, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between you and Joel. “She could’ve handled it,” he said, winking at you. “Tougher than she looks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”

Joel shot you a quick glance, his expression unreadable, before he cracked open one of the beers and handed it to your dad. “You’re lucky she’s here. Otherwise, you’d have been grillin’ yourself.”

Your dad chuckled, taking a long sip of the beer. “Guess I owe you one, kiddo.”

The rest of the afternoon unfolded like every other barbeque you’d attended over the years. Guests chatted, kids ran around the yard, and Joel worked the grill like the pro he was. But every now and then, you’d catch his gaze lingering on you, just for a moment, before he turned back to his task.

And though you tried to brush it off, you couldn’t help but wonder if Joel was wrestling with the same storm inside that you were.

As the afternoon stretched on, you did your best to push any lingering thoughts about Joel to the back of your mind. You told yourself you were being ridiculous. There was no way he felt the same way.

Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, the man who’d known you since you were in diapers—he couldn’t possibly look at you the way you sometimes caught yourself looking at him.

You’re being delusional, you thought. The heat must’ve been messing with your head.

But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversations around you or the smell of the barbeque in the air, you couldn’t shake the tension coiled in your chest. Finally, you excused yourself, slipping into the house under the pretense of needing the bathroom.

The cool air of the kitchen was a welcome relief as you made your way to the sink instead. You turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over your fingers for a moment before cupping it in your hands and splashing it onto your face.

The water dripped down your cheeks and neck, and you exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the counter as you stared at your reflection in the window above the sink.

“This is stupid,” you muttered to yourself. “Get a grip.”

You closed your eyes, trying to will the thoughts away, to remind yourself that whatever you thought you saw in Joel’s eyes earlier was just your imagination. He was being nice, maybe a little playful—but that didn’t mean anything.

Did it?

The sound of the back door opening pulled you from your spiraling thoughts, and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice.

“Everything alright, kiddo?” Joel’s rough drawl carried through the quiet kitchen.

You froze, your hands gripping the counter tighter. You hadn’t heard him come inside, and now he was standing there, just a few feet away. You couldn’t face him, not like this—not when your feelings were written so plainly across your face.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, too quickly, still staring down at the sink. “Just needed to cool off for a second.”

Joel didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel his presence behind you, solid and grounding.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice softer now, like he wasn’t entirely convinced.

You nodded, forcing a laugh. “It’s just the heat. Gets to me every year, you know?”

You could hear the faint scrape of his boots against the tile as he stepped closer, and you knew you couldn’t avoid him much longer. Taking a steadying breath, you turned to face him, plastering on a smile that you hoped looked convincing.

But the way Joel was looking at you—his dark eyes scanning your face like he could see right through the mask—made your heart lurch in your chest.

You forced yourself to take a slow breath, trying to steady your racing pulse. The last thing you wanted was to seem like you were losing control, especially with Joel standing so close. But as you met his gaze, the heat between you both felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“I just… I think I need a little more air,” you said, voice coming out slightly strained, the words rushing out faster than you intended. Without thinking, you fumbled with the top button of your shirt, undoing it slowly, as though it would somehow relieve the pressure building in your chest.

Joel’s eyes flicked down, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath following the motion. His gaze lingered for a moment too long on your exposed skin, the space between your collarbone and the neckline of your shirt. You saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, the knuckles of his hands flexing as he seemed to struggle to control himself.

What the hell are you doing, Miller? Joel thought, his heart starting to race. It was the first time in years he felt completely out of his depth with you. You were just supposed to be his best friend’s daughter. That was it. But now, here you were, standing inches away, your shirt slightly undone, your scent mixing with the heat in the room—everything about the moment was making him lose his focus.

“Kiddo… I—” He cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure. His voice was strained, a raw edge to it he couldn’t hide. He couldn’t let his thoughts run wild, couldn’t act on whatever had been sparking inside him ever since you’d walked through that door.

You met his gaze again, and something in the air shifted. The playful, casual tone that usually defined your relationship was gone. Instead, it was replaced by an awkward, fragile silence.

You tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were now locked on you, dark and intense. “It’s really hot in here,” you said, your voice a little breathier than before. You hated how much you sounded like you were fishing for some kind of response from him, but you couldn’t help it.

Joel, still standing too close, clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out and adjust your shirt for you, to do something—anything—to break the mounting tension before it consumed both of you.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, voice almost too quiet. “Real hot.”

And just like that, the air between you both became charged, too thick to breathe in comfortably, neither of you willing to break the fragile stillness.

Joel stood there, rooted to the spot, his mind racing. The air in the kitchen felt stifling, every inch of his body tense with the fight to keep himself in check. He couldn’t believe this was happening—that moment, the one he hadn’t anticipated. He hadn’t expected you to make him feel like this. It was almost unbearable.

He cleared his throat again, but it did nothing to shake the thick heat that had gathered in his chest.

“Alright, uh…” he started, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m gonna… use the washroom.” He barely finished the sentence before he turned sharply toward the hallway, desperate for space, for a second to breathe.

As he walked down the corridor, he could feel the pulse in his neck, the quick thrum of his heartbeat, the damn pressure building low in his abdomen. He knew what was happening. And he knew he needed a minute alone to get himself together, to rid himself of the tension that was threatening to make him lose control.

Joel pushed open the door to the small bathroom and locked it behind him. He immediately leaned against the sink, hands gripping the porcelain, his eyes closed as he tried to steady himself. His mind was flooded with the image of you, standing in front of him, your shirt slightly undone, your breath a little faster than usual. The way you’d looked at him, like you wanted him to see something, feel something.

It was a mistake, he told himself. You were just hot, and it had been a long, long time since he’d let himself think about anything like this.

His hand rested against his stomach, breathing heavily, but it didn’t help. The situation had spiraled. And the more he tried to push it down, the more his body betrayed him.

He looked into the mirror and saw his reflection, the years of experience and self-restraint staring back at him. “Control, Joel,” he muttered to himself, the words a reminder, a mantra. “Get it together.”

But no matter how hard he tried, his body wasn’t listening.

He needed a moment. Just a moment to regain himself before he went back out there, before he had to face you again. He closed his eyes, forcing his mind to clear as he counted slowly in his head.

One. Two. Three.

It wasn’t easy. But Joel had always been good at pretending. And he’d be damned if he let this… moment, this temptation, undo everything he’d built with you and your family.

As he takes himself in hand, he tries to push the thoughts of you out of his mind, but it's a futile effort. Your image, with your shirt undone, haunts him. He imagines what you would look like without it at all, the smooth expanse of your skin exposed to his hungry gaze.

His hand moves faster, his grip tightening as he imagines all the things he wants to do to you, things he knows he shouldn't be thinking about.

He’s just doing this so he can get back to the party.. Yes, that's exactly what he tells himself. It's just a way to relieve the tension, to get back to the barbecue without making a fool of himself. He tries to keep his mind on the task at hand, but it keeps wandering back to you, the memory of your scent, your smile, your laugh.

He leans his head against the mirror, his breathing becoming ragged as he feels himself getting closer to release.

There’s a knock at the door

Joel freezes at the sound of the knock, his hand stilling on his cock. His eyes widen, and he lets out a curse under his breath. He can't answer right now. He's too close to the edge, too caught up in the moment.

"I'm almost done," he says, his voice strained as he fights to keep himself from making any noise.

He clenches his jaw tightly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he desperately tries to stifle the moan that threatens to escape. His eyes squeeze shut, and his body tenses as he rides out his orgasm, spilling himself onto the mirror in front of him.

For a moment, he just stands there, panting and trying to regain his composure. He knows he needs to clean up, to get himself together before he faces you again. But his mind is still clouded with desire, with the image of you seared into his brain.

“Daddy are you in there?”

Joel's eyes snap open at the sound of Sarah's voice, and his heart drops into his stomach. He's still in a daze, his body trembling slightly from the aftershocks of his release. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself before answering.

"Y-yeah, honey. I'll be out in a minute," he calls out, his voice rough and shaky.

•———

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open caught your attention, and you turned just in time to see Joel stepping out. Something about him immediately struck you as… off. His usually composed demeanor had slipped. His hair was slightly tousled, as though he’d run his hands through it one too many times, and his face was flushed—not just from the Texas heat but something deeper.

His eyes were dark and restless, darting around the room before finally landing anywhere but on you.

“Uh… all yours,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual as he gestured vaguely toward the bathroom.

You blinked, caught off guard by how disheveled he looked. Joel was always so put together, so steady. This was a side of him you’d never seen before, and it only made your heart race faster.

“Thanks,” you replied softly, watching as he brushed past you, his shoulders tense.

But he didn’t go far. Instead, he stopped by the counter, gripping the edge tightly like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His head stayed bowed, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but the silence stretched out, heavy and awkward.

“Joel, are you okay?” you finally asked, concern creeping into your voice.

He let out a sharp breath, his knuckles whitening against the countertop. “I’m fine,” he said quickly, too quickly. His tone was clipped, almost defensive, but it was clear he wasn’t fine at all.

You stepped closer, your stomach twisting at the sight of him like this. “You don’t seem fine,” you pressed gently.

That made him look up at you, and the raw intensity in his eyes made you take a half-step back. His gaze was conflicted—like he was wrestling with himself, trying to keep something buried deep inside.

“Don’t,” he said, the word coming out low and almost pleading.

“Don’t what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel shook his head, his jaw clenching as he straightened up. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he said finally, his tone firm but shaky at the edges.

The words hit you like a wave, leaving you breathless. There was something there, something he wasn’t saying but couldn’t fully hide. And for a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all.

The charged air between you and Joel evaporated instantly at the sound of your dad’s voice. Joel stepped back from the counter like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, straightening his posture and quickly running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Mr. Miller, there you are!” your dad said, stepping into the kitchen with a beer in hand. “I was wonderin’ where you’d wandered off to. And, hey, look—it’s my daughter. I was lookin’ around for both of ya.”

Joel’s face was flushed, his eyes still a bit wild as he forced a smile. “Just takin’ a quick break inside. Heat’s brutal today,” he said, his voice a little rough but steady enough to sound believable.

You, on the other hand, were still frozen, the weight of what had just happened—or almost happened—pressing down on you. You tried to muster a casual smile as your dad glanced between the two of you.

“Well, glad I found y’all. Joel, you’re missin’ your own barbeque,” your dad teased, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Folks are askin’ for you out there. Told ‘em I’d drag you back out.”

Joel chuckled, the sound forced but convincing enough to fool your dad. “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’,” he said, avoiding looking at you as he moved past both of you toward the backyard.

Your dad turned to you, oblivious to the tension that had just filled the room. “You alright, sweetheart? You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding his eyes. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Alright,” your dad said with a shrug. “Don’t take too long, or there won’t be any steak left.”

He left as casually as he came, and you exhaled shakily, leaning against the counter for support. Joel was gone, but the lingering tension in the air was impossible to ignore.

Just as you were about to collect yourself and head back outside, Sarah appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed and a curious look on her face. She leaned against the frame, her eyebrows slightly raised as she studied you.

“Hey,” she said casually, though there was a hint of something more in her tone. “Have you noticed anything… weird about my dad today?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Weird? What do you mean?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant as you leaned against the counter, your hands gripping the edge for support.

Sarah tilted her head, squinting slightly like she was trying to piece something together. “I don’t know. He’s been acting kind of… off. Like, distracted or something.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at you. “And now I find you both in the house, looking like someone caught you stealing cookies or something.”

Your face burned, and you quickly shook your head. “No! It’s not like that. I just came in to cool off, and he was… uh, just taking a break.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure.” She stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Look, I know my dad. He’s all gruff and tough most of the time, but when something’s on his mind, it’s pretty obvious.” She popped open the soda and took a sip, still watching you closely.

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. “Maybe he’s just tired,” you offered weakly.

“Maybe,” Sarah said, drawing out the word like she didn’t quite believe you. “But it’s not like him to act weird at one of his own barbeques. Especially when everyone’s out there waiting for him to be the life of the party.”

You fidgeted, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” you mumbled, hoping she’d let it go.

Sarah smirked, leaning closer. “Alright, fine. But if you know something, you better spill. Because he’s not sneaky, and I will figure it out eventually.”

With that, she turned and headed back toward the backyard, leaving you standing in the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest.

Sarah might not know exactly what was going on, but she wasn’t wrong—Joel was acting strange. And you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep pretending that you hadn’t noticed it, too.

And now, you can’t help but wonder what exactly happened in the bathroom. What was he doing in there that had him so flustered? You watch as Sarah walks away, your mind racing with possibilities.

Determined to shake off the tension from earlier, you took a deep breath and stepped outside, past the threshold where the heat of the Texas sun hit you again. The yard was bustling with familiar faces—neighbors chatting over plates of food, kids running around laughing, and your dad holding court by the cooler, telling one of his exaggerated stories to a small crowd.

Joel was back at the grill, his back turned to you as he flipped burgers and ribs with practiced ease, his posture much more composed than it had been in the kitchen. It was a relief, in a way, to see him falling back into his usual self.

You decided to focus on the party itself, just like every other year. Grabbing a drink from the cooler, you wandered toward a group of family friends who were gathered near the table of sides and desserts.

“Hey, there you are!” one of them greeted you with a warm smile. “How’s it going? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

You smiled back, relieved to slip into a casual conversation. “I’m good, just been busy, you know.”

The chatter flowed easily from there—catching up with old neighbors, swapping small talk about the weather and upcoming plans. You laughed at a joke one of the guests cracked, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to melt away.

Every now and then, you’d glance toward the grill, your gaze drawn to Joel without meaning to. He looked calm, talking with some of the guys gathered around him, a beer in hand now that most of the food was cooked. But when your eyes met his briefly across the yard, his jaw tightened ever so slightly before he turned back to his conversation.

Don’t think about it, you told yourself, forcing your attention back to the people around you.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the company—laughing, eating, and slipping into the comforting familiarity of the yearly barbeque. It was the distraction you needed, even if every so often, you couldn’t help but feel Joel’s presence, like a subtle pull in the back of your mind.

•——————

Feeling content—perhaps a little too full after indulging in more ribs and mashed potatoes than you intended—you wiped your hands on a napkin and scanned the yard for Sarah. You couldn’t help but smile as you spotted her near the drinks table, chatting with a couple of kids her age.

The thought of slipping away from the crowd to play video games with her was appealing. That had always been your thing during these barbeques when you were younger—ducking out of the socializing to sit in front of the TV, controllers in hand, and getting completely absorbed in whatever game was on deck.

You approached her with a grin. “Hey, Sarah,” you called, catching her attention.

She turned toward you, her face lighting up. “Oh, hey! What’s up?”

You gestured toward the house. “Was just wondering if you wanted to sneak inside for a bit. I’m thinking video games. Like old times?”

Sarah’s eyes widened with excitement. “Oh, yes! I thought you’d never ask. These kids are fun and all, but I need a break from being everyone’s cool babysitter.” She grabbed her drink and motioned for you to follow her. “Let’s go before Dad notices I’ve bailed.”

You laughed as the two of you slipped back into the house, heading straight for the living room. Sarah grabbed a couple of controllers, tossing you one before plopping down on the couch.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” she asked, scrolling through the game options. “Something classic, or are we trying something new?”

“Let’s go classic,” you said, settling in next to her. “Feels like the right vibe today.”

She grinned. “You’re on. But don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just because it’s been a while.”

As the game loaded, the sounds of laughter and chatter from the backyard faded into the background. For the first time all day, you felt completely at ease, the familiarity of playing games with Sarah like a balm to your overthinking mind.

The tension with Joel could wait. For now, it was just you, Sarah, and the simple joy of kicking each other’s butts in a game you both knew like the back of your hand.

After a few rounds of heated competition and lots of laughs, the game’s energy started to wane. Sarah stretched dramatically, setting her controller down on the coffee table.

“Alright, I need a break,” she declared, sinking into the chair across from you with a content sigh. “You’re way better than I remember, by the way. Either that, or I’m just off my game today.”

You chuckled, tossing the controller aside as well. “A little bit of both, probably.”

She smirked and grabbed her phone from the armrest of the chair, scrolling through it absentmindedly. You followed suit, pulling your own phone from your pocket and opening your favorite app.

The living room fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from the faint hum of conversation outside and the occasional vibration of notifications. It was easy, natural, like it always had been between you and Sarah.

At one point, she glanced up at you from her phone, her lips quirking in a teasing smile. “So, you and my dad were hanging out in the kitchen earlier, huh?”

You nearly dropped your phone, your face heating up instantly. “W-What? I mean, not really. We just… ran into each other.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, her tone dripping with playful skepticism. “Look, I’m not saying anything. But, like, he’s been acting a little weird today, and you seem kind of… jumpy.”

You let out an awkward laugh, trying to play it off. “Sarah, you’re reading way too much into things. It’s just a barbeque. Everyone’s a little off in this heat.”

She squinted at you, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it go—for now. “Fine. I’ll drop it. But I’m keeping an eye on you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, returning your attention to your phone. The quiet resumed, and you found yourself relaxing again, the weight of her questions slowly lifting.

“Soo you’re into older guys I take it?” Sarah teases

You froze, your phone slipping a little in your hand as Sarah’s teasing words hit you like a freight train. Your eyes darted up to meet hers, and she was grinning, her expression full of playful mischief.

“W-What?!” you stammered, your face instantly heating up. “No! That’s—why would you even say that?”

Sarah laughed, leaning back in her chair with a knowing look. “Oh, come on. You think I didn’t notice? The way you get all quiet when he’s around? How you avoid looking at him like it’s some kind of Olympic sport? It’s adorable.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Sarah, stop. You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Look, I’m not judging. I mean, my dad’s… well, you know. He’s a good-looking guy for his age.” She shrugged, smirking. “But it’s definitely a choice.”

You peeked at her through your fingers, your face still burning. “Sarah, please. I can’t have this conversation with you. He’s your dad!”

“And you’re my friend,” she said, leaning forward with a sly grin. “Which makes this even more hilarious. Honestly, though, I think it’s kinda cute. You’ve got that whole forbidden-crush thing going on.”

“It’s not a thing!” you protested, though your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves.

Sarah just laughed again, clearly having too much fun at your expense. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off. For now.” She shot you a wink. “But if you ever want to spill the tea, you know where to find me.”

You groaned again, slumping back into the couch and covering your face with a pillow. “This is the worst,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t help the tiny, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips.

Sarah chuckled, pulling out her phone again. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Mostly.”

You sighed, trying to focus on anything else, but her teasing words lingered in your mind, making it even harder to ignore the very thoughts you’d been desperately trying to push away all day.

As the laughter died down and you both returned to scrolling through your phones, Sarah suddenly perked up, a playful grin spreading across her face.

“Hey,” she said, her tone light but hopeful. “You should sleep over tonight.”

You looked up from your phone, blinking in surprise. “What?”

She shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “I’m serious! It’s been forever since we’ve hung out like this, just the two of us. And I know you’re not in a rush to head home. Plus, my dad’s got that guest room set up all nice now, so it’s not like you’d have to crash on the couch or anything.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know, Sarah. I didn’t exactly plan for that. I didn’t even bring anything with me.”

“So what?” she said with a wave of her hand. “You don’t need anything. I’ve got extra clothes you can borrow, and it’s not like you’re gonna be here for more than a night. C’mon, it’ll be fun! We can binge-watch something stupid or play more games. Just like old times.”

You smiled, her enthusiasm infectious. It had been a long time since you’d stayed over at her house. Those sleepovers when you were younger had always been a highlight, full of late-night giggles, snacks, and talking about everything and nothing until you fell asleep.

“Alright,” you said finally, unable to resist her excitement. “Why not? I’m in.”

Sarah cheered, throwing her hands up triumphantly. “Yes! This is gonna be awesome. I’ll let my dad know.

At the mention of Joel, your stomach did a little flip, but you quickly pushed the thought aside. This was about hanging out with Sarah, nothing else.

“Cool,” you said, forcing a casual tone. “What should we do first? Movies? More games?”

“Both,” Sarah said with a grin. “We’ve got all night, so let’s make it count.”

The two of you started plotting the evening’s activities, and for the first time all day, you felt like things were finally falling into place—like the tension and confusion could wait for another time. Tonight was about reconnecting with an old friend, and that was exactly what you intended to do.

•——

As the night wore on, the two of you settled on watching a mix of nostalgic childhood favorites and random comedies. At some point during the third movie, you started feeling your eyelids grow heavier. The comfort of the couch, the soft glow of the screen, and the warmth from your full stomach were too much to resist.

You barely noticed when your head tilted to the side, your body sinking deeper into the cushions. Sarah, who had been half-focused on the movie and half-scrolling on her phone, glanced over and smiled softly when she saw you had dozed off.

She got up quietly, careful not to wake you, and grabbed a blanket from the armchair. Draping it over you gently, she tucked it around your shoulders to make sure you were comfortable.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” she whispered, a fond smile on her face.

With that, she turned off the TV, leaving just a small lamp on to bathe the room in a warm glow, and headed upstairs to her room.

The house was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Outside, the occasional chirp of crickets and distant laughter from lingering party guests drifted in through the windows.

You shifted slightly in your sleep, pulling the blanket closer as the night deepened. Though the day had been filled with tension and unexpected moments, the warmth of friendship and the comfort of familiarity wrapped around you like the blanket Sarah had left behind.

•

The house was quiet and dimly lit when you woke up, the faint light of the streetlamps outside spilling through the windows. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you pulled the blanket off and stretched before realizing you needed to use the bathroom.

As you padded softly down the hallway, the sound of ice clinking in a glass caught your attention. You glanced toward the kitchen and stopped in your tracks. Joel was sitting at the table, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand.

The soft glow of the under-cabinet lights illuminated his face, casting shadows that made him look even more rugged than usual. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times, and his expression was unreadable—distant, pensive.

He noticed you out of the corner of his eye and looked up, his gaze softening slightly. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough from the late hour. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” you replied, stepping into the kitchen despite yourself. “I just… woke up and needed to pee.”

Joel chuckled quietly, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Well, don’t let me stop you. Bathroom’s still where it’s always been.”

You hesitated, watching him for a moment. “Couldn’t sleep?” you asked, your voice softer now.

He shrugged, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass. “Something like that. Just needed a minute.”

There was something about the way he said it, the way his gaze dropped back to the amber liquid in his glass, that made your chest tighten. He looked… tired, but not just from the day.

You lingered in the doorway, torn between continuing to the bathroom and staying to talk. After a moment, Joel glanced back at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Go on,” he said gently, nodding toward the hallway. “I’ll still be here when you’re done.”

His words, though simple, held a weight you couldn’t quite place. Nodding, you finally tore yourself away and headed to the bathroom, your mind racing the entire way.

You splashed cold water onto your face, blinking a few times to clear the haze of sleep from your mind. The bathroom was quiet, the only sound being the soft trickle of water as you rinsed your hands. You stared at your reflection for a few moments, not really thinking about anything in particular—just the foggy, half-asleep state that made it hard to process anything.

Your hair was a little messy from the nap, and your face felt puffy from the sleep you’d missed. You didn’t bother to analyze it. Too tired. Too many thoughts running through your head already.

You dried your hands, not bothering to look at the clock on the wall. It didn’t matter what time it was; sleep would come when it came. With a yawn, you walked back into the hallway, trying to shake off the weird tension that had been lingering ever since earlier.

As you passed the kitchen again, you glanced over at Joel, who hadn’t moved much, still nursing his drink, his eyes distant. For a brief moment, your heart skipped, but you ignored it.

You offered him a sleepy smile, but didn’t say anything more—too tired to dive into whatever was stirring under the surface. Instead, you made your way back toward the living room and the couch, the comfort of your blanket waiting for you.

Joel was still sitting at the table when you turned the corner, and for a moment, his eyes met yours, but you didn’t linger this time. You just returned to your spot, curling up under the blanket.

You were too exhausted to read into anything, too tired to try and sort out all the thoughts that kept circling around.

You froze for a moment, the soft sound of Joel’s voice drifting from the kitchen. His words were low, but clear in the silence of the house:

“The guest bed is open, darlin’”

It felt like the world around you slowed, your mind racing despite the exhaustion pulling at your body. You weren’t sure if you should go back to the kitchen or if you should just ignore it and settle into the couch like you had planned. The idea of moving to the guest bed, especially with the way things had been between you two earlier, felt… complicated.

Still, the offer was there, and it was kind of him. After all, you were crashing on the couch, and the guest bed was just down the hall.

You let out a soft breath, your mind still foggy. “Thanks,” you finally called back, trying to keep your voice casual. “I’m good here, though. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

You heard the faint clink of glass from the kitchen, the sound of Joel finishing his drink. There was a pause, and then his voice came again, even quieter this time.

“Alright. Just… if you change your mind, it’s there.”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it, and then turned back toward the living room. It was tempting to take him up on the offer—there was something about that bed, something that seemed safer, more private, away from the tension that had been building between you two. But for now, you stayed put.

You curled up on the couch again, the blanket feeling heavier now, like it could shield you from everything happening outside of this little space. You tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the rhythmic sound of your breathing and the distant noise from the party still lingering in the background.

Tonight, you’d just sleep. Everything else could wait.

A/N: eeeeeeeekkk this wasn’t supposed to be that long but I kept going!!!! I couldn’t stop ;3

I love love the idea of dbf joel and I’ll probably continue this in the future if you guys want more as well lol..

Thanks for reading I love you all. ♥️♥️

#joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller game #joel miller show #the last of us #joel miller pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut

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joelsprettyprincess · 4 months ago

Text

Thank You, Mr. Miller

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader (NSFW)

Joel lets you crash at his house following his birthday grill. You give him an incredibly wet, sloppy, desperate....gift.

Tags: facefucking, rough oral, choking, spit kink, degradation, facial, big fat age gap (college age/mid 50s), no outbreak, modern au, birthday Joel, pet names (babydoll, pretty girl)

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: This is not lore accurate in the slightest, I just really wanted to write about giving Joel head. Please be gentle in criticism, I haven't written for an audience in a long time. And minors DNI OBVIOUSLY!!

"You ready?! We're gonna be late!" your father called up to you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The occasion was a grill at your father's college friend's house for his birthday. His name was Joel Miller.

You'd met him a couple times before; he and your father sometimes got together to crack open some beers.

Ever since you first met Joel, he hadn't left your mind. He was tall and rugged with a dark tousle of hair. His daughter, Sarah, was a little younger than you. Your father had mentioned that she'd just moved into her college dorm.

The last time you had seen Joel was last November, at Thanksgiving. He and Sarah had come over to share a meal. Sarah was friendly but pretty quiet, and you two hadn't hit it off like you thought you would.

Joel...was a different story. Your brain replayed the limited interactions with him over and over, looking for a hidden meaning. Some days you swore he gave you meaningful looks, and other days you yelled at yourself for believing that a man like him was into a girl like you. Someone half his age.

So why were you getting all dolled up, when it would be hot outside and no one would be looking anyway? The same reason you'd bought a whole new sundress for the party, and even shaved. You secretly hoped one man in particular would be looking.

Your father yelled your name again. "Coming," you responded quickly, and added a final bit of mascara. You grabbed your white crossbody bag off the bathroom doorknob and slung it over your shoulders, completing the look. Clomping down the stairs in your wedges, you followed your father out to the car.

It was just you and him going. Your mother didn't feel good enough to go, claiming she "could feel a cold forming." More likely she wanted to avoid being stuck being in the car for an hour. Not that you could blame her.

Still though, you were definitely looking forward to the grill. Even if that excitement was tinged with anxiety.

Soon you and your father were bundled into the car. He was driving since he knew the roads better.

Actually, you'd never been to Joel's house. It was always him coming to see your father, not the other way around. You wondered what his house was like. Probably not big. Traditional? Modern? Cluttered? You had no idea.

Maybe you and Sarah would become better friends. You guys could at least talk about college.

20 minutes had passed and you were already getting irritated. Your father had elected to put on the most boring podcast known to man, one about the economy. A man with a way-too-cheerful voice was going on and on about GDP and supply-demand.

Putting on your headphones, you distracted yourself by switching between Twitter, Tumblr, and TikTok. The holy trinity.

And this was how the next half hour was spent: scrolling. Not very productive, but there really wasn't much to see except the highway. Thankfully it was pretty empty on this route; apparently Thursday afternoon wasn't a popular time to travel.

However, this bout of good luck ended as soon as you neared Austin. Traffic went from almost non-existent to congested within a minute. Your father sighed and turned off his podcast.

"Now comes the hard part," he sighed.

The next 15 or so minutes were wasted just inching through traffic. Everyone was trying to get to their exits, and people kept changing lanes at the last minute, or getting into the wrong lane, and the frustration was palpable. You were really glad you weren't driving.

After what seemed like forever, the two of you finally broke free from the highway and got onto a regular road. Soon you were zipping towards Joel's house at a nice speed.

"Did you bring a present?" you asked your dad.

"Nah," he remarked. "Men don't really need 'presents.'"

You scoffed a little at that. "Alright."

Now the sights were a little more interesting. Austin was bustling with activity.

You drove through the urban area for perhaps 5 minutes, then your dad turned and the buildings and crowds thinned out.

Eventually the two of you reached a nice suburb with rows of houses.

Within two minutes, your dad pulled up behind a bunch of other cars that were parked around what was obviously Joel's house.

"We're here," he announced (kind of uselessly).

It was pretty small, as you'd guessed. It was mostly made of brick, just one story, and the front porch was pretty bare bones.

But you could hear voices and music in the backyard. There were some people going up to the house, and the front door was wide open.

You and your father got out of the car and made your way up the sidewalk to Joel's house.

The door was covered with a screen. You opened it and stepped inside, your father closing it behind you.

"Joel," he called. "We're here."

There was no answer. You looked around the room.

It was pretty normal. Your average American house. There was a worn looking green sofa, a brown loveseat that didn't match the sofa at all, and directly in front of you was the kitchen. To the right was a little hallway.

Both the sofa and the loveseat were occupied by various people. "He's outside," someone said.

You and your dad walked into the kitchen, where the back door was. Stepping out onto the patio, you could see there were quite a few people here, of all ages. They must be his neighbors, you figured.

You heard a familiar voice shout your father's name. To your right was him. Joel.

"Joel!" your dad exclaimed, and they quickly embraced.

"Hey, little lady," he greeted you, smiling. Oh, that smile. It could mean a thousand things.

"Hey," you greeted him more shyly than you'd like. "Happy birthday."

He chuckled. "Ugh, don't remind me. Gettin' closer to death ain't no cause for celebration."

Your dad hooted in response.

"Tommy's helpin' me grill, over there," Joel said, pointing to his brother on the other side of the yard. You couldn't help but notice how big and veiny his hands looked-

You shook your head a little. Get a grip.

Joel was explaining some things, but you weren't really listening. Your senses were being overloaded with this man in front of you. That was the best way to describe him- he was very masculine. Big, broad shoulders, a solid build, and his beard made you imagine unspeakable things.

Eventually you asked about Sarah. "I'd love to catch up with her," you said.

Joel shook his head regretfully. "Ah, she's not here. She has class today. She goes to the University of Houston, dunno if your dad told you."

"Oh, that sucks." You nodded. "Well, you can tell her I say hey."

He smiled. "Will do."

For the next half hour, Joel, Tommy, and your dad tackled the grills and made a huge amount of burgers and hot dogs. Tommy made sure everything was organized so everyone was served in an orderly fashion.

You got a cheeseburger, plus some dangerously salty fries and sat at one of the folding tables to enjoy your meal.

Of course everyone here was a stranger, so you were expecting to be left alone. When someone sat beside you, you involuntarily jumped.

It was Joel, and he laughed. "Sorry, baby, ain't mean to scare you like that."

"Oh! Ha, no, you're good," you squeaked, quickly wiping your mouth. Gosh, could you be normal for one second?

"How's college? You're a sophomore now, right?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah. It's going pretty good, even though my classes are getting harder."

"Remind me of your major again..?"

"I'm undeclared right now. Just doing my generals."

Joel nodded his approval. "You know, I never even finished college."

That caught you off guard. "Oh. Wait, really? Then..."

He shrugged. "I dropped out. Didn't have the discipline or the intelligence. I went into an apprenticeship instead."

"Oh, that's definitely a unique path," you remarked.

"Now, don't you drop out," he said sternly. "You're a smart girl."

You laughed. "Not that smart."

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked suddenly.

Trying not to act shocked, you casually answered, "Nah. I don't."

"Good. You're too good for those boys. Too pretty."

You and Joel continued to chat about school and careers for a bit. Your gaze kept darting everywhere; looking at him was like looking at the sun. He was just a halo of light and focusing on him for too long made you nervous.

Finally he left, needing to attend to someone, and your brain ran at a million miles, replaying the conversation, criticizing your voice and responses, deducing anything meaningful from Joel's words. Did he mean something more when he mentioned a boyfriend? Or was he simply curious? Ugh...this stupid crush was driving you insane.

A couple hours passed, and the party slowly died down. By this time it was about 6pm. People started leaving; walking home or maneuvering their cars out of the puzzle that was the driveway and street.

To your dismay, you found your father curled up on the loveseat, way drunker than he should be.

"Guess he had a couple too many beers?" Joel said, chuckling.

You sighed. "I'm really sorry. I dunno what he was doing all this time. I should've checked on him."

"S'okay," Joel assured you. "Do you know the way home?"

"Ah, no..." you admitted, embarrassed. You'd barely been paying attention on the drive home.

"Hmm." Joel crossed his arms and thought. "Well...then you can't leave, can you?"

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Uh– um...I guess not? But I don't want to impose. I can try to find my way back."

But Joel shook his head. "Your dad would be mad if I sent you out there. It gets dark quick these days, y'know. I'd hate for you to get in trouble on the way back. Look...we have a guest room you can use." He looked at your dad again. "I suppose he'll be comfy right there."

Your dad was drowsy, laying on the couch, still in his day clothes.

"There's a bathroom you can use, right across from Sarah's room. I'll show you. If that's okay with you?" He looked for your consent.

"Um...well, if it's not too much trouble," you said.

"Oh, of course not!" Joel insisted. "You can even wear some of Sarah's clothes; y'all are about the same size. It'll be no trouble at all, baby."

There was that word again. Baby. You couldn't tell if it was platonic or not, and it drove you crazy.

"Well, alright. Thank you, Mr. Miller."

"Joel," he gently corrected. "No need to be formal."

He showed you the bathroom and the guest room, then let you shower while he helped Tommy clean up the mess from the party.

As you cleaned yourself, the only thing on your mind was:

This is going to be very, very interesting.

After you got dressed in Sarah's room, you went to the guest room next door and looked around. It was simply decorated, with a double bed and a dresser by the window. You put down your bag and hoisted yourself onto the bed.

Okay. Okay. Taking deep breaths, you thought about your situation. You were basically alone with a very handsome man whose room was a 5 second walk away, a man who may or may not be interested in you, a man twice your age with a daughter the same age as you.

Totally fine, nothing to worry about. He definitely was not going to be on your mind all night.

Laying down, you tried to distract yourself with your phone again.

After about 20 minutes there was a knock at the door. You got up and opened it.

"We finished cleanin' up," Joel told you. He leaned against the doorframe.

He was so tall.

"That's good," you said. "Thank you for letting us stay here, seriously. I dunno what I'd do without you."

Joel gave you that sweet smile again, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "No problem, missy. If you're still hungry, we got plenty of leftovers."

"Oh, that's okay," you assured him. "I'm more than full. The food was really good."

You were trying to ignore the slightly musky, deep smell that was coming from him. And the way that his shirt clung to his chest and biceps. And the way he was looking at you...

"You need anything else?" he asked.

"You've done so much already," you chuckled. "I think I'm all set for the night."

He smiled and nodded. "Well, don't be afraid to ask."

Get a grip, you creep.

Joel was berating himself. This was so not good.

It was more than not good, it was horrible. His friend's daughter, the same age as his own daughter, was in the guest room all by herself and all he could think were dirty thoughts.

It was her fault! Those cute, innocent looks she kept giving him drove him up the wall. Her pretty body, her adorably nervous mannerisms.

All Joel could think about was how good her lips would look wrapped around his cock.

He was pretty sure she felt the same way but didn't want to push it in case he was wrong. Then he'd really be in trouble.

It was going to be a very hard night.

A couple hours passed. You felt too awkward to venture out of the room, so you stayed on the bed for quite a while. Soon it became dark, and you were glad you didn't have to drive.

Feeling thirsty, you decided to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Your dad was passed out on the couch. Joel was in the kitchen as well. Dammit.

"Hey, babygirl," he said. "Need something?"

"Oh- yes, just some water," you requested.

He got a glass down for you. Passing it to your, your fingers touched, and you swore he kept his there longer than strictly necessary.

Joel watched as you got water out of the fridge. You took a nice sip, then sighed. "Thank you."

"Oh, you've got something, right there-" Joel stepped closer to you and gently wiped the corner of your lips with his knuckle.

You could only stare at him as he did this. He was so close you could see the gray hairs peppering his beard.

He let his finger stay there, and returned your gaze.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, just looking into each other's eyes.

Finally you broke eye contact and he stepped back.

"Th-thanks," you stammered.

He continued looking at you. "You're a real pretty girl, you know," he said.

You weren't sure what to say.

Joel took your chin in his fingers, and ever so softly brushed his lips against your cheek.

You made a small noise and he hesitated. "Is this okay, baby?" he asked.

You could barely breathe or blink or do anything but nod.

Putting one hand on your cheek, Joel leaned in and softly kissed you. After a shocked second, you reciprocated, pressing your lips against his.

He sighed, and pressed deeper, gently sucking on your bottom lip. You felt his tongue, and opened your mouth a little, allowing him in.

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed Joel back. He tasted so good, with a hint of toothpaste.

"Oh..." he mumbled, hands going from your face to your back. He backed you up till you hit the counter, and he softly growled, pushing his tongue in deeper.

His hands traveled further down to your hips, and he started caressing your ass.

"So fucking soft," he whispered.

Joel's whole body was pressed against you, and you felt him getting excited.

Finally you broke the kiss, needing air.

"Jesus, this is so fuckin' wrong," Joel muttered. "I'm as old as your dad, for crying out loud..." He shook his head. "And look how excited you got me."

You looked down. There was a noticeable tent in his pants.

"Wow..." you whispered. You had done that.

"C'mere," he said, and pulled you down the hallway to his room. He closed the door behind you.

"On your knees, babydoll." He started undressing, pulling off his pants and boxers. You obediently knelt on the carpet.

Joel pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. You got your first good look at his cock.

First of all, it was big. You weren't inexperienced, but you hadn't encountered anything his size before. It was girthy, with prominent veins going from the groin to the fat, leaking tip. It had a slight curve.

Joel placed his hand on your head. "Open," he ordered, and you obeyed, slightly sticking out your tongue.

He placed his cock on your tongue. You slowly licked up, making him groan.

"Fuckk, yes," he gasped.

You focused on just the tip, licking and slurping at it. His precum was already leaking out.

Joel's hand shot out to grip your hair as you slowly service him, dragging your tongue across the tip and eventually taking it in your mouth, sucking it.

The only noises in the room were Joel's breathy groans and the wet, slurping noise from your mouth as you licked stripes up his fat shaft.

"Just like that, baby," he whispered, stroking your hair. "So fuckin' good."

You took more of him in, looking up at his tightly shut eyes and furrowed brow.

Joel pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, first gently, then he got more impatient and rougher, thrusting into your mouth with little regard to your comfort.

"Yes, fuck, take my fucking cock," he growled. He put his hands on either side of your head and started roughly facefucking you, panting and groaning. His balls slapped against your chin.

You moaned and could feel your mouth producing drool as Joel wildly thrusted into you. His cock kept nearly hitting the back of your throat, and you were gagging a little.

Your drool pooled and dripped down onto your bare tits.

"Agh- mghhrgh-" you gasped, barely able to form a coherent word or thought. The only thing that was going through your mind was cock.

"Choke on it," Joel growled. He was getting mean with it. His cock pushed into your mouth again and again, not stopping or slowing, even as you choked on it. You desperately tapped on his thigh to tell him to let up.

Joel reluctantly did so, allowing you to take several gasping breaths before coaxing it back in. He resumed the pace, a little gentler than before, but still brutal.

By this time he'd backed you up so your head was against the edge of the bed. He was using your mouth like it was a fleshlight, an inanimate object. He was pulling at your hair.

Your eyes were tearing. You couldn't even suck anymore, just had to lay there while Joel used you.

How long had he felt like this? This pent-up frustration?

"Yes, yes, fuck," he chanted, thrusts growing more erratic. He was close.

You deepthroated him a few times, going until your nose was pressed against the hair at the base of his cock. You made sure your lips gripped his cock.

"I'm close, babydoll," he moaned. "Gonna fuckin' cum all over your pretty face. You want that? Yeah?"

"Mmm," you groaned in agreement, blinking several times.

"That's right. Gonna fucking swallow my cum, right? You little slut. You've wanted this cock for a while, huh? S'why you're drooling all over it like a dumb whore."

The insults turned you on. Joel kept thrusting, chasing his release, and your eyes rolled as you struggled to take it all.

Finally, Joel let out a loud groan and pressed himself against your mouth, cumming hard onto your tongue. His hot thick load rapidly filled your mouth, and you moaned softly as his balls twitched. He slowly pulled out and stroked his shaft, letting out a second thick load onto your forehead. It slowly oozed down your face onto your nose and cheeks.

Joel remained where he was, riding out the rest of his orgasm on your face. Soon he'd splattered his cum all over, glazing your cheeks, nose, and lips. Some of it dripped onto your tits.

You inhaled deeply as you caught your breath, amazed at the amount he'd let out. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of his load.

Joel puffed too, slowly coming down from his high.

There was a long silence, then Joel breathed: "Best birthday ever.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #im sorry for mentioning his balls #but be glad i didnt add a ball sucking part #because i really wanted to #18+ mdni

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