#texas truck yard

[cyber-scribe]

During my trip to Texas for my cousin's graduation, we visited a place called The Texas Truck Yard. It was a pretty cool hang out spot, and the décor was pretty nice.

[dallas-big-boy]

[coquettepascal]

texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying. 

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes. 

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones. 

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does. 

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you. 

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to. 

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job. 

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together. 

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point. 

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there. 

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats. 

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute? 

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel. 

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable. 

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing. 

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird. 

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone. 

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars. 

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice. 

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath. 

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. 

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer. 

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him. 

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself. 

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years. 

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing. 

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this. 

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks. 

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock. 

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him. 

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?” 

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either. 

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers. 

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering. 

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay. 

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you. 

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough. 

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.” 

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out. 

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

[littlemissmiller]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑫𝒐𝒐𝒓

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: (au) (Joel is dad to a 9 year old Sarah) Joel has been your neighbor for some time and you and him have become friendly. In an attempt to spend more time to him (and a desire to show off your summer body) you throw a pool party…

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, fluff, friends to lovers, use of nicknames (babydoll, baby, darling), p in v, ass eating, cowgirl style, fingering, couch sex, porn with a plot

Work count: 4.1k

A/N: hi all! the official first day of summer is today and i got inspired by a pool party i went to with my mans so i just had to write this cute lil smutty, fluffy story. i have a billy request coming and hopefully i get ch 3 of Summer Highs out soon (i know i said it would be soon don’t trust me on a release date which is why i don’t do them) ok that’s it! much love and enjoy ❣︎

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It’s always a hot summer in Texas. It would feel weird if it wasn’t, but this year it feels like the earth is a legit bun in the oven. The whole neighborhood is feeling the heat, so given you have a pool in your backyard, you invite people over for a summer kickoff. Of course it has nothing to do with the fact you are desperate to see Joel Miller in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. From just his work shirts alone, you could see how tight his shirt hugged his muscles. How toned his back was whenever he would sweat through it doing yard work. You would always wave over to him from across the street, occasionally bring him water or lemonade while he worked. And today, your excuse for seeing him was to invite him to your pool party. You catch him outside after work, in his garage tinkering around under his truck. You stroll across the street and walk in. You knock on the side of the garage walls and Joel slides out from under his Silverado.

“Well hey there!” He beams, striding towards you

“What’s up cowboy.”

“Not much, waiting for Sarah to come home from soccer camp.” He informs

“Oh keeping her busy.”

“Well between so and the library reading contest she’s more or less keeping herself busy. Determined to get those Astro tickets. I promised we would do a road trip and she reaches thirty books by the end of June and wins the two tickets. She’s already at twenty five. She has a whole strategy.”

“Wow. Good for her. Well I hope she’s not too busy this weekend…” you state

“Oh yeah why’s that” he smiles, leaning his arm against the garage and above your head. You feel totally lost here with him looking at you how he is. His big brown eyes, so curious and pleasant, simply wondering what you have to say. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well I sent out an evite a little bit ago, but I wanted to come tell you in person that I’m having a pool party Saturday. I thought we could all beat the heat ya know.”

“Yeah we‘ll be free.” He steps back, taking a rag from his waist and wiping his hands. He heads toward his garage fridge and gets out two bottles of water, offering you one.

“Thanks. So you do have your own water.”

“Yeah I always keep that fridge full. Especially with Sarah and her friends I practically always got Gatorade.”

“So you just like my water better?”

Joel smiles at you, combing his hair with his fingers. You watch his muscles flex and wish that you can be wrapped in them. He starts to look through his tool box and nods.

“You could say that. So Saturday you said? What time?”

“It starts at 12, but you can stay for as long as you’d like.”

“I’ll talk to Sarah, but I have a feeling she'll say yes. She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take.”

“I’m sure.”

“We’ll see ya Saturday then.” He winks and disappears back under his truck

You waltz out of the garage and back to your house. You trot inside gleefully and close the door behind you. You could jump, squeal, practically combust. Not only did you just figure out Joel had his own drinks on deck whenever he works, but always accepts an offer from you no matter what. God he must like you. He must. You hope you're not thinking too much into it but, you couldn’t help but think when he said “She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take…” he really was talking about himself. You bite your lip and roll your eyes. You want him so badly. So bad you feel like you are going to explode. You lean your head back against the door and sigh.

Saturday comes around soon enough, and you spend the whole evening and next morning preparing for the day. You clean your house, chop lettuce, tomatoes and onions for burgers, cut up a watermelon and make a macaroni salad. Even though you hadn’t explicitly asked for his help, you had a feeling Joel would want to help grill and you’d gladly take it. You prepare a cooler with a few beers and some water and put it in your garage fridge. Next you set up the pool area. You lay the cushions on the pool chairs, unwind the umbrellas and set out a few pool noodles. Everything looks perfect and your first guests start arriving around 12:08. More and more people arrive and at around 1:30, you finally see Joel and Sarah pulling up. He walks in with his own cooler and a swim bag. He approaches you while Sarah runs off to the other neighborhood kids.

“Well hey cowboy! Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah sorry we are late. Work called last minute and I had to help them order some more flooring for our site.”

“No worries. But these people are getting hungry and maybe you could help grill. I hate to put you to work…”

“Ain’t no trouble darling.”

“Ok I’m going to change. The patties are already formed, just in the fridge.”

Joel follows you inside and heads into your kitchen, poking his head in the fridge. You walk upstairs to your bedroom and change into your swimsuit. You had gone out that week and picked out a new suit. It was white, a two piece, the edge frilled, and it shaped your figure so well. You spin around and admire how it sits on your ass. The back had a cheeky build, and totally gave the viewer an idea of how your cute little ass looks. Not to mention the way it rides up, exposing your cheeks slightly, it’s perfect and you can’t wait for Joel to see you in it. You put your jean shorts back on and find one of your white, open-knit, pool coverup and a red, and a worn USA baseball cap. You pull your ponytail through the loop of your hat and spin around one last time.

Rushing down the stairs, only to find Joel already outside starting the grill. You sigh in disappointment. You take a beer from your fridge and try to open in on your own. Then Joel walks back inside. Even though your back is turned to him, he can tell you are struggling.

“Need help?”

You jump and turn around, your tits bouncing slightly as you turn, which Joel notices. He also seems slightly speechless as you turn to face him. His sentence cut off, face frozen, as if you stole the words from his mouth.

“Uh yeah, thanks.” You hand him the bottle and he takes it, uncapping it like it’s nothing. He hands it back to you and you take a swig.

“Oh hey so because I was so outta sorts getting out the door, I totally forgot to get sunscreen. You got any, Sarah is itching to get in the pool.”

“Of course” you run back up to your bathroom, find a 50 SPF bottle and head back down stairs. Joel calls out to his daughter and she comes rushing inside. At the sight of your face she enthusiastically calls your name and rushes towards you. You hold her in your arms.

“Hey sunshine!”

“We brought brownies!” She proclaims

“Oh did your dad make them?”

“Mhmm. Well he helped, I really was the baker!” She insists

Joel lets out a playful chuckle and rolls his eyes in amusement.

“Yeah, especially with all those eggshells you had to fish out?”

“At least I know how to preheat the oven.” She claps back

Joel smirks and then looks at you. He has always appreciated how loving and kind you are to Sarah. He appreciates knowing that when she’s with you, she’s in more than good hands. And you adored her as well.

“Hey! let her get that sunscreen on ya.”

“I’m fine! I’ll stay in the shade!” Sarah protests but before she can scurry off you’re already squirting it into your hand, applying it to her shoulders.

“You know you don’t have to listen to him. I thought you’re supposed to be the fun one!” She whines, and you smear her face. She scrunches it up in displeasure.

“I am the fun one. This is called fun in the sun, sunshine.”

She groans and pulls her face away.

“You know I think I saw a bomb pop with your name on it out in the garage fridge, if you can still hang in there for one more second.” You promise. “Ok there. Top shelf in the garage. Bring a few for the other kids. Ok?”

“Yes!” She states firmly and rushes off into the garage

“She just loves to keep ya busy…”

“Tell me about it.” Joel rolls his eyes “you uh…you look nice…” he swallows nervously

“Thanks, it’s new. I got it for today actually.”

“Oh really. Trying to impress someone?” He asks

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You quip back, smirking “how’s those burgers coming along”

“Grills still heating up, this is really nice of ya to invite everyone. Sarah hasn’t really had much pool time with soccer.”

“Well you two are invited over anytime.”

“Appreciate the offer. What else do you need for these burgers?”

“Here” you state, turning to the fridge and opening it.

You grab the toppings, cheese, and condiments and follow him outside. As Joel grills, you make your way around, chatting with your fellow neighbors. Eventually you get in the pool with a playful “go on sugar, I’ll holler at ya when they are ready” from Joel. As you strip off your top and shorts, Joel checks you out from across the pool. He can’t help but let his eyes linger on the curves of your body, the way your bikini bottoms hug your ass, and how nice and perky your boobs sit on your chest.

You notice him checking you out, your own eyes hidden behind your sunglasses. You try not to look so much, but with his back to you, it’s easier to admire his broad shoulders. And you have to admit, Joel is absolutely radiating domesticity. You could easily get used to this sight. Sarah splashes around you, pretending to be a mermaid looking for pearls and you throw sinking rings for her to dive for. Joel catches you playing with Sarah, and smiles. The smell of hamburger meat fills the air and Joel calls to you. You throw some more rings in to keep Sarah occupied and head out of the pool.

“How are these, little lady?” Joel asks as you approach

“Fantastic! Let’s put cheese on half of them.”

“You got it!”

People start to gather for food and you help Sarah dry off and get her a plate.

“Cheese or no cheese baby?” Joel asks Sarah as she approaches the grill

“Cheeeese!” She smiles, showing off her big smile to her dad

“What about you doll?” He asks you

“Same as her.”

After you eat, you wait a while to get back in the pool. You lay out with a few of the girls from the neighborhood Wine Club. As you chat, Joel admires the way the sun glimmers off your body. With most of the food served, Joel joins his daughter in the pool. You watch as he takes off his shirt, gawking over his bare chest. His shoulders cut into his neck so sharp and clean and you can help but want to feel how strong he is. And You smirk to yourself, happy to finally see him exactly how you wanted to. And he looks damn good in his turquoise-green trunks.

“I’ll be right back…” you excuse yourself, striding over to Joel, swaying your hips

“Can I get you a drink? I’m getting another beer, and maybe one of those brownies I heard about.”

“Oh I want one!” Sarah exclaims

“If you get out you’re getting more sunscreen on ya babe..” Joel promises

“She can bring me one and I can eat in the pool!”

“No, no baby. C’mon.” He argues, lifting Sarah out of the pool and onto the pavement.

“Awww!” Sarah whines, swinging her arms and legs.

You hold her hand and take her to the food, you grab a towel, wrap her in it and get her a small plate. You place a brownie on it and hand it to her.

“Can I have two?” She bats her eyes

“Go ask your daddy…”

She waddles over to Joel, squatting down to ask him. He rolls his eyes and nods and she trots back to you.

“He said I can!”

As the afternoon turns into evening, more and more people head back to their homes and pretty soon the sun is setting. You start to clean up, picking up plates and empty bottles and taking them inside the house.

The last few neighbors pop in to thank you and say goodbye and behind them is Joel.

“Hey…need some help?” Joel asks you

“Oh you’ve done more than enough. Y’all headed out?”

“I uh...sent Sarah home with the Adler’s. They said they’d watch her for the evening until I got back.“

“Oh! Well I would have loved to say goodbye to her.” You frown

“I bet she would have too, but she passed out on my knee even with everyone running around. Danny wanted to get his Ma home anyways…” he explains

He walks up to the kitchen counter and places a few empty beer bottles down. You smile and thank him. He helps bring in a few more bottles and follows you around with a trash bag as you pick up plates and plastic silverware. After everything is cleaned up and the pool is closed up, you and Joel head inside.

“Well I don’t wanna keep you from Sarah much longer.”

“It’s ok, unless that’s your way of kindly kicking me out, then by all means I’ll head out.” He smirks

“No no, you can stay if you like…”

“You sure?”

You nod and he closes the sliding door leading out to the pool, locking it.

“I don’t have much beer left, but you seem like a whiskey guy to me.” You imply

“I sure do.”

You pour him a glass and he leans over your counter. He smiles and he holds the glass to his lips and sips.

“I really appreciate ya Joel.”

“It’s no trouble.”

There is a brief moment of silence as you take a sip of your whiskey and gaze into his big brown eyes. You can’t help but feel he’s looking at you in the same way. A wave of desire washes over you and just as you're about to speak, possibly trying to make a move, Joel strides over to you.

“Ya know if ya ever need my help, I’ll always be willing. Whatever you need…”

“You’re too sweet Joel, I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“Maybe you can, baby…” the words slip from his lips and steal your breath away. You gasp and move in closer to him.

“I’m sorry, can I call you baby?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Yeah? Well then baby, kiss me…”

You lean up, cupping his face and pressing his lips against your own. He holds your face in return, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks and moaning into your mouth. Your hands move to cup his neck as you move your face, deepening the kiss. Joel clutches your jaw, pulling you closer and raising you onto your tippy toes. You chuckle against him. This is finally happening. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve dreamed of. Ever since him and Sarah moved in, you have wanted him. It was no secret. Perhaps that’s why the Adler’s offered to watch Sarah. To give you this moment. And you’re ever so thankful.

Joel’s calloused palms move to your waist, slowly trailing down your body, feeling the sides of your bare skin. You hadn’t bothered putting your swim shirt back on after the pool and you were grateful. You welcome his fingers and let out a girlish giggle, his feather light touch overwhelming.

“How late do you wanna stay?”

Joel checks his watch. It’s 8:10.

“I told the Adlers I would be back by 9 so I mean…is that enough time for you…”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” You smile against his face, kissing his cheek.

With that he returns his mouth to your own and he moves to cup under your shorts. He squeezes your ass and moves his hands under your thighs. In one swift motion he picks you up and is moving you both to your couch. You and him stumble into it and he sits down with you on his lap. You gasp and pull back.

“Ok that was fucking hot Miller, my god could you get any sexier.”

“You know what’s sexy…” he implies, pulling on the front of your bikini top, snapping the strap

“You like it?”

“You look like an absolute snack in this thing darling. And your ass, fuck I couldn’t stop looking at it by the pool.” he pants

“Glad you noticed. I was trying to impress you if you didn’t pick up on that when I told you.”

“Oh I did, and it worked. It definitely worked.” He sighs, sealing his words with another searing kiss.

You rock against him as his mouth moves with yours. You simply can’t get enough of him like this and he desperately wants to devour you. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. He moves to squeeze your ass again, fingers dancing underneath your jeans. He grabs and gropes you, causing you to whine and whimper into his mouth.

“I love those pretty little noises you make, baby. I can’t wait to hear what other noises you make for me.” He whispers

He pulls at the hem of your jeans, tugging on them until they slide down your ass. You stand up, pulling them down your smooth legs. He starts rubbing the back of your thighs, moving his hands up and down and settling them underneath the cheek of your ass. He pulls your waist close to his face, your pelvis practically grinding up against his nose and lips. You delicately place your hands on his shoulders as he admires you.

“Let me see that cute little ass of yours again, babydoll”

Then suddenly you are spun around and he grips the strings of your bikini bottoms slowly pulling them down. As he does, he kisses the bear skin that’s being revealed to him until his lips are consuming your ass. You let out a sigh, arching your back slightly as his mouth finds your core. He dives in, placing his hands on the meat of your ass and nuzzling into your cheeks. His soft lips began to kiss your folds, and you buck up against his face. He growls against you, groping your cheeks and diving in to taste you. His mouth and tongue finds your clit and he begins to lap at it. He’s so hungry for you. So desperate to drink up your juices like a sweet nectar. Your legs quiver slightly and Joel notices. He wraps his hands around the front of your thighs, steadying you , while simultaneously pulling you closer to his mouth. He pulls back quickly, replacing his mouth with his fingers. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves feverishly, cooing as you moan and whine.

“Tastes so good. So fucking good baby.” He whispers.

He mouths at your pussy, his saliva mixing with your juices, making you so wet. You’re throbbing into his mouth and he places a few chase kisses to your cunt, before pulling away. He takes his shirt off and tosses it aside. He gives your core a few more open mouth kisses then spins you around once more, and you take off your top. You slowly pull the dainty string, letting your bikini top fall off you and onto his lap. He moans, clutching the top in his hand. You move to straddle him and he tosses the top on the ground.

Before you can put your weight on him, he bucks his hips, taking his trunks off. His cock springs forward and he takes his incredible length in his hand. He slowly pumps himself and you lower your ass onto his thighs. You don’t quite sink into him yet, wanting to appreciate this moment with him. He cups your ass and you clasp the back of his neck. He leans forward to press feather light kisses along your jaw and neck. Then his actions get more aggressive as he starts to manipulate your breasts. You mewl and arch into him. Your entire body starts to slowly rock against his, teasing him with your wet core on his cock.

“Fuck I want you. I can feel ya. So wet.”

You nod, biting your lip and Joel loves his hand down in between your legs again. He plays with your clit for a moment, before sinking a finger in you. You buck up on him, and steady yourself on his shoulders. He pumps his finger into you, loving the way your heat and juices consume his digit. He adds another one, and you feel so incredibly full.

“You ready for me?” Joel murmurs against your neck.

“Mhmm, please Joel. I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasp as he removes his fingers. He wraps his hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance. The tip pokes in, then you engulf the rest, taking his full length in you. He lets out a staggering moan as he works his lips down to your collarbone and valley of your breasts. You move your hips, slowly grinding on his cock and your tits bounce in his face. He chuckles and looks up at you. He sits back, holding your hips as you ride him.

“Fucking look at you girl. So gorgeous my god.”

You giggle in return, feeling up your body and playing with your boobs.

“That’s it, put on a little show for me.”

You bounce on him, continuing to feel your body and then you touch your clit, swirling it around in between your fingers. You let out a long, breathy moan, tilting your head back.

“Mmm Joel, Joel Joel Joel….” You hang his name as he squeezes your ass harshly. He helps you move, shoving your body onto his cock and moving his hands to hold your hips.

“That’s it. Oh my god you’re perfect…”

You learn back slightly, rolling your hips and tummy. He splays his hands over your waist, his breath hitching. He loves watching you move. He loves how you feel and needs more. Joel moves expertly to stand up, keeping himself buried inside you and, placing you on your back, you yelp as he lays you on the couch. He dives in for your lips again. He crawls on top of you, wasting no time shoving his length into you. Cupping your face. He rocks his hips, his cock filling you up once again. He speeds up, drilling into you. Your legs fold up to your chest, giving him better access to your pussy. As he thrusts into you, his beautiful eyes meet your own, his gaze thirsty for more. He rests his forehead against you and pants.

“You close?”

“If you touch me again. Play with me a little then I’ll come… please Joel…”

“Yeah? Like this baby?”

He aggressively rubs your core, his hand in sync with his hips. You nod and let out a series of incoherent babbles. You move against his hand and cock, a pool of ecstasy filling your stomach and drowning your senses. Your heat builds and builds until you break. You clench down around him, your breath leaving you as Joel’s mouth falls onto your own. With a few more of his own pumps, his seed is spilling inside you.

“Oh shit” he curses “fuck baby it’s just you felt so good shit I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine I’m on the pill.”

“You sure it’s ok?

You nod and he kisses you deeply, lips pressing firmly on your own. You moan, holding his face.

“You just might be the most perfect thing on the planet, ya know that?”

“Whatever you say.” you chuckle

“I know this may come off as formal given what we just did, but I really wanna take you out for a drink sometime. Like an actual date. If you want?”

“Yes Joel, I’d like that very much.”

꧁•☀︎•꧂

[tieronecrush]

🎃 trick or treat 🎃

summary: it's halloween and joel's taking your girls trick-or-treating with you in a family costume. feeling uncomfortable in his clothes and his skin, he's on edge most of the evening but does his best to disguise it in order to not spoil the fun. back at home, when his girls lightheartedly tease him about everything he already thought about himself, you're sure to end the night showing joel exactly how you feel about him and his body.

wc: 10k (oops?)

warnings: established relationship/married, canon divergent (no outbreak, ellie & sarah are both his kids, sort of obscure with if they're both his bio kids/your kids - basically y'all are a cute lil family either way! also joel is ~40, no age mentioned for reader!), halloween, family/group costumes, DOMESTIC JOEL!!!, fluff, body insecurities, age insecurities, joel has minor sensory issues?, his kids poke fun at him, sensitive joel, SMUT. it kind of is a thing for the basically the second half, descriptions of joel's body, tummy & thigh worship, oral (m receiving), cowboy rule (for a costume), unprotected piv, lowkey sub!joel for a lil bit, reader is "giving cunt" according to bestie el, then quickly gets back to dom!joel as he gets his confidence back, joel gets that strength in an adrenaline rush that moms get lifting cars off babies but his is for chasing a nut, also, dirty talk!

a/n: my contribution to spooky season, basically at the buzzer lol. this started with me thinking how cute it would be for joel to dress up and go trick-or-treating with his kids, and ended with wanting to s*** his d*** big time. anyways, enjoy my version of halloween with joel, and thank you to @kiwisbell for screaming about this scenario with me and as always a big thanks to my sweet, sweet girlfriend @northernbluess for beta-ing!!!!

Brought on much later than the northern states, fall in Texas is not quite an impactful sight. The one thing that can’t be beaten though is the Texas sun; shining across expansive horizons all times of year, temperatures of the light shifting with the seasons. Orange evening sun stretches across the sky and seeps down in between the leaves speckled with changing colors while Joel’s truck coasts down the neighborhood street. Kids retreat from running around in the road when his car approaches, returning right back to their gameplay when he’s through. Half are dressed up, a medley mix of witches, zombies, vampires, Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Disney Princesses, and countless outfits that he has no idea what they’re referencing.

Fibrous, white faux spiderwebs litter the front porches of the houses lining the street, Jack-O-Lanterns carved and lit up stack on the stairs or create a path along the front walkways. Some of the pumpkins’ faces are wrinkly and sagging, signs of overeagerness from when the fall season started earlier this month. A handful of scarecrows find themselves pitched in the middle of yards with hay spilling out of them, and some of the houses have turned out an expense to get those motion-sensor decorations — the ones really intended to scare the kids that will be unleashed on the neighborhood to trick-or-treat this evening.

Rolling to a stop as he turns into the asphalt driveway, throwing the truck in park, he sits in the cab for a still moment, staring at the signs of life scattered around his family’s house. Four pumpkins, gutted and showing off their faces, a family feud that reached a compromise when it was decided that yes, they would carve pumpkins but no, they would not sit to rot on the front porch all month long; the corn stalks wrapped around the posts of the porch, tied with burlap twine and arranged with sprigs of fall foliage; pots of colorful mums framing the path up to the house, carefully selected by your eye and less delicately planted in their terracotta vessels by Joel’s hands. 

Aside from the seasonal decorations, the usual markings of the Miller family were easily spotted: chalk drawings on the shared sidewalk in front of the yard and along the driveway, replaced every weekend by Sarah once the old was washed or worn away; Ellie’s bike discarded on the front lawn, small tire tracks digging up the grass, no matter how many times Joel and you have asked her to put it away when she’s done; the porch swing that Joel built for you, swaying in the breeze and now unoccupied — unusual for the evening routine around the time that Joel comes home from work. He’s normally greeted by his girls, not merely their artifacts. But tonight is a different night, much busier than the slow, molasses life Joel gets to enjoy in the colder weather.

Gathering his lunch bag from the bench seat and bunching up his jacket in the same hand, Joel climbs out of the car and walks into the open garage, leaving his tools behind in the flatbed to be dealt with tomorrow morning. Passing your parked car, he shakes his head with a subtle smile as he closes the driver’s side door of your SUV left open. He can picture you now, running around after picking the girls up from school, mental space occupied by getting everything and everyone together to make it out the door before the sun went down completely. 

There’s a trail of evidence to support his musings: a lonesome plastic bag filled with groceries left on top of the car, Sarah’s purple jacket looped through the handle of the garage fridge, probably left behind after she went looking for a juice, and Ellie’s army green backpack tossed on the ground in front of the shoe racks lining the wall next to the door. None of that would fly had you been your usual focused self — more often than not, you’re the parent to put their foot down and keep the girls in line while Joel is the total pushover.

Along his way inside, he picks up all the left-behind items, balancing everything in his hands while he steps into the mudroom. Ellie’s backpack gets shoved into her designated cubby, and Sarah’s jacket gets wrapped on a hook screwed into the wall as Joel kicks off his work boots. After depositing his own belongings in their spots, lunch bag in his cubby and jacket on the hook next to Sarah’s, he grabs his boots in one hand, leaning out the doorway to place them on top of the shoe rack. Closing the door behind him, he picks up the singular bag of groceries left on top of your SUV and pads across the tile further into the house. Immediately, he’s embraced by the warmth radiating from the kitchen, the smells of tomatoes, onions, garlic, and more wafting into his nose causing a smile to stretch across his face and his stomach to rumble. 

Every year that he’s known you, without fail, you use Halloween night as an excuse to cook up your family-favorite chili recipe. Sure, it doesn’t get too cold for October in Texas, but damn, does he look forward to the night every year simply for a bowl of it. Laboring over the prep and slow-cooking it all day long, anyone who tries it can taste the care in each bite; like a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders that lasts with him for the entire evening spent outside with the kids.

The pleas of his stomach lead him straight into the kitchen, his smile growing wider when he sees you standing over the kitchen counter, affixing a sheriff badge to the cow print vest laid out in front of you. He strides over to your side, resting his palm on your lower back and swiping his thumb against the material of your shirt while he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head, drinking in your scent and feeling the ache of missing you all day. Losing focus from your task, you turn toward him with a bright smile, a quiet sigh leaving your lips, and your shoulders relaxing from their tensed position. Wordlessly, he folds forward, catching your lips in a lingering kiss. Heat pushes against his chest through his denim shirt, your hands skating from his pecs, up and across his shoulders, and down his arms to rest on his biceps. The motions raise goosebumps in their wake, trailing down his spine with a tepid drip.

Joel steals another kiss before he stands up straight again, voice rasping from yelling over powerful tools all day and volume low to keep the semblance of a private moment between the two of you for as long as possible; anything louder would expose his arrival, bombarding him with questions and conflicts to resolve between his daughters.

“Hey, baby.” He greets you with one fleeting kiss pressed to your forehead, hand at your lower back now rubbing side to side, fingers carefully lifting the fabric and pressing the tips of them into your deliciously soft skin. 

Turning back to the vest, you drop your hands from his arms not before giving them a gentle squeeze, “Hi, Joel. Good day?”

He shrugs, unable to step away from you just yet, “It was fine — much better now. And I take it yours has been a busy one?”

Joel holds up the plastic bag of groceries with two fingers, one corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. His hip pops out as he leans against the counter, the smirk turning into a smile when you grimace. His heartbeat skips when your laugh fills his ears, the sound still exciting him after all these years, and you stand over the bag to take a peek inside.

“S’all good. Non-perishables.” It’s Joel’s turn to laugh, shaking his head with a breathy chuckle as he places the bag on the counter, unloading its contents into the pantry while you go about recapping your day for him.

In the midst of you speaking, the tumble of footsteps down the stairs draws his attention away, eyes focusing on the open threshold that leads from the living room into the kitchen. As the quickened steps grow closer, Joel turns to you and holds up three fingers, counting down with them. When he lowers his last finger, a mop of curly hair, a bouncing ponytail, and a whirlwind of chaos disrupts the initial peace of his return home.

“Hi girls, how was today?” he starts before a cacophony of noise fills the kitchen. Skidding to a stop in front of him, he exchanges a look with you before facing his daughters, already overwhelmed with their two voices talking over the other.

“Dad, Dad, Sarah said—”

“Dad, Ellie’s saying that I said—”

Holding his hands up, he flicks his eyes between his two girls. Sarah, the older of the two at eleven years old, stands in front of him with her arms crossed and brow furrowed — a look he is all too familiar with, the similarities between him and her emphasized with her annoyance. Ellie, your youngest, stands with her fists clenched at her sides, her mouth twisted up in frustration and the same furrowed brow as her sister. She looks so much more like you at the moment, only a nine-year-old version, calling back on times Joel can remember of you giving him that very look.

However, with their tempers, there’s no doubt that they’re his kids.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath before addressing them.

“So, what’s going on now?” he asks, brows raising and head tilting when the girls each take a sharp inhale, about to speak over each other again, “One at a time. Ellie.”

Sarah rolls her eyes at her younger sister being called upon first, expectantly looking at her sister with annoyance still painting her face. Ellie shoots her a smug look before turning back to Joel, drawing a pout onto her lips to sell her story. He can’t say it doesn’t work for a second, it always will with these two and they know it, but with a quick glance in your direction, he sees you turned away from your task, watching the drama from the sidelines. Mustering the strength to stand his ground against the sweetness of his girls, he clears his throat and listens with his best poker face as Ellie begins explaining.

“Sarah said she wouldn’t trade all her Skittles for my Three Musketeers even though she knows I hate Three Musketeers and she said last week when we were getting our costumes that she would—”

“I never said that, Dad! She’s lying—” Sarah gestures with her hands as if to physically point out the obvious falsehoods in Ellie’s story. Spiraling back out of the fleeting control he had over the situation, the kids get riled up again, yelling over each other, and inching closer. The dad-instincts kick in and he grabs one of each of their shoulders, separating the two of them and turning them to face him again as he puts on what you affectionately call his ‘no-bullshit’ voice.

“Okay, okay, okay! Enough arguin’ about candy that you don’t even have yet. Ellie, you don’t even know if a single house is gonna give ya Three Musketeers, and you don’t even know if Sarah is gonna get any Skittles. Save the trade negotiations for tonight or tomorrow morning. ‘Sides, you gotta pay the Dad Tax before either of y’all get to trade around your pickings.”

“What?”

“No way!”

Joel smiles, waving his pointer finger between his daughters with a single nod of his head. “See? Something y’all can agree on. Now go get washed up for dinner and plot how you can hide your candy from me and Mom.”

As quickly as they came in, they rush right back out, this time a united force scheming against their parents. Joel huffs out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself as he turns back to face you. Met with a growing smile, you unravel your arms crossed in front of your chest to pick up the vest from the counter.

“Nice conflict resolution there, hon. Now I won’t see a single piece of candy.” You throw a pout at him, bottom lip jutting out as he steps over to you, one hand splaying on your hip and thumb rubbing languid circles.

“Don’t worry, baby, I think I know every single one of their hiding spots from how many times they had to move their candy last year. They won’t even notice anything's gone.” With a quick wink, he leans in for a kiss, short and sweet. Standing up straight, the smile on your face mirrors his, your left index finger reaching up to fit into the valley of his dimple.

“Are we bad parents to be scheming how to steal from our children?” you question, biting back a laugh.

“I think that’s just part of parenting, darlin’.”

The laugh you held back escapes you, rolling your eyes playfully at his facetious answer; the vest in your hands catches his eyes again, and he sighs to himself as he holds a hand out for it.

“So you really did find a cow print vest for me? How lucky.” Sarcasm coats his tone and you lift the material, depositing it in his open palm.

“It is lucky, isn’t it? I think you’re going to look great in your costume. Got all the perfect parts, plus you can wear your own jeans and boots. Economical.”

“You sure you need me for this group costume?”

“Joel. You’re literally one of the main characters from the damn movie. And the girls really want you to dress up and take them trick-or-treating. Plus it’s probably going to be one of, if not the last year that we get to do all this as a family. Our kids are growing up.”

“Don’t remind me, means m’getting older too,” he grumbles under his breath, eyes falling to the fabric in his hand.

It’s true what they say about having kids: the days are long, but the years are short.

At times, Joel wishes he could pull each hair out of his head instead of dealing with the shit his kids bring to him sometimes — “Dad, I got called into the principal’s office.” “Dad, I threw a softball and broke the window.” “That’s so unfair, Dad! Why do you have to be so mean?” It’s easy to get lost in the mess that is his family, but it’s a mess he loves. It feels like it was only yesterday that he was becoming a father when Sarah was born, getting a grasp on the whole thing and then Ellie came along. What he would do without you there by his side, he doesn’t have a clue.

Like flipping through a scrapbook, he can remember every year prior for his girls. In a flash, they’ve grown from dressing up as princesses and unicorns — a dragon for Ellie — to being Spy Kids and vampires. His oldest is verging on becoming a teenager, and if he knows his daughters, he knows that once Sarah quits dressing up each year, when she asks to go to her friends’ houses instead of spending the night with Mom and Dad, Ellie will want to do the same as her older sister, always looking up to her despite their differences.

There’s only so much more time for his kids to be kids, even if they may always feel like the tiny baby girls he held in his arms. All he wants to do is to protect them, keep them under his eye as long as he can, but he can hear your voice prying his grasp away from them, encouraging him to let them grow, let them experience the world as he got to do when he was younger. You’ll remind him that you were a teenage girl once, reassuring him that they’re always going to need him. He knows it’s all going to sneak up on him; one day, he’s going to pull into the driveway and notice the lack of chalk drawings. He might even be happy at first about Ellie’s bike being put away, but when he goes into the garage to work on some of his projects, he’ll notice the smallest bit of dust on it from disuse.

Stepping away from him to shuffle across the kitchen, you reach on your tiptoes to pull out four bowls from the cabinet. Joel steps over behind you, a hand on your back as he intercepts your movements, grabbing the ceramic dishes and handing them to you.

Like a shadow, he follows behind you as you walk over to the pot filled with dinner, eagerly watching over your shoulder with his chest pressed against your back and hands on your waist as you lift the lift. Aromas waft with the steam rising, the delectably rich dish slowly bubbling as it finishes melding altogether. It smells like home, always the mark of the changing of the seasons in the Miller household, and one of the little traditions that he so appreciates you creating for your family. Just like the way you make crinkle cookies and still sign presents from Santa at Christmas, despite the fact that your daughters found out about that a couple of years ago from a yappy kid at school.

Joel was very close to driving over to his house and letting his parents know how he felt about their kid murdering the magic of Christmas for his girls.

All he can hope is that these little traditions continue even when the girls are grown up; the four of you gathering around the table for your annual chili dinner before they head off to hang out with friends and you two are left to watch cheesy Halloween movies and hand out candy to children that remind you of your daughters.

With another deep breath, warmth surrounds him. Joel’s lips find the spot just under your ear, kissing gently before he rests his chin on your shoulder, “Smells so good, baby. Have I told you how much I love you?”

A breathy, incredulous laugh falls from your lips as you stir the pot’s contents around, your smile sticking around as you counter, “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m feeding you.”

A dramatic, exaggerated gasp sharply inhales into his lungs, standing up straight and patting his hands on your sides, “Absolutely not, darlin’. I love you all the time—”

“But especially when I feed you,” you finish, turning out of his arms to grab the stack of bowls. He stops your motions by wrapping his arms around your waist, feeling the press of you against his torso and relishing in the heat of your body against his. Curling up like a cat in the sun, he nudges his nose against your hairline, peppering kisses along the contours of your face.

In between kisses, he says word by word, over and over, “I. Love. You. My. Beautiful. Wonderful. Incredible. Wife.”

“Alright, alright! Gosh, you’re clingy,” you tease, leaning back to look into his eyes with a playful glint in your eye and a smirk held tight in your lips, “I love you too, my beautiful, wonderful, incredible husband.”

Your free hand smooshes his cheeks together and tugs him down gently to exchange a tender kiss. It ends much too soon for Joel, him chasing your lips and pouting when you turn away to start serving up dinner.

“Better go tell the girls dinner’s ready before they’ve finished plotting how to stow away candy in the floorboards.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, punctuating the conversation with a cheeky smack to your ass, scampering away quickly before you can pretend to scold him.

Tugging at the material across his stomach, Joel combs his eyes over his reflection in the mirror of your en-suite bathroom. Rolling his shoulders back, the fabric of the yellow and red plaid flannel pulled taut, lifting the hem a couple of inches and showing off the skin of his softened tummy. Dark curls of hair litter the center of the sliver of skin, trailing down under the waist of his dark wash jeans. He doesn’t bother tucking the shirt in, giving himself the breathing room of the few inches at the hem. Fingers grip the thick fabric, sharply pulling it back down to lay over his jeans again.

Picking up the cow-print vest you were adorned with the plastic gold Sheriff badge downstairs in the kitchen, he’s taken back to a few weeks ago at the Halloween store.

You and he had opted to spend Saturday morning taking Sarah and Ellie to pick out their costumes for the holiday, letting them run free until they decided on a shared costume for once. Sarah quickly picked out her size in the Jessie costume, and all of the family agreed to be different characters from the Toy Story movie.

Ellie wandered the aisles, searching for the perfect combinations to create her ideal costume, which was, of course, the mechanical spider toy with the baby doll head that the kid Sid builds in the film. She returns to where Joel is standing with you, staring at the walls of costumes to find something for the both of you; he looks down at his youngest, jumping minutely when he’s faced with a mutilated baby doll mask, shiny plastic reflecting him in the surface.

“Ellie. You can’t be the creepy baby doll,” he sighs, hand falling to his hip as he rests his weight on it, the other leg stepping out while he slowly shakes his head.

Tipping the mask up to the top of her head, Ellie stomps her feet, shoulders falling and head leaning back as she groans in complaint, “Why not, Dad?” She draws out his parental title, kicking the toe of her shoe against the buffed tiles of the storefront that remains empty eleven out of twelve months of the year.

“You’re gonna scare the little kids, and it’ll be your mom and I who are dealing with the angry parents.”

Ellie huffs out a breath, reaching up to snatch the mask off, turning on the heel of her sneaker, and stomping off to go find another costume. Turning his attention back to you at his side, he notices a cheeky smile on your face as you find your size in a woman’s Buzz Lightyear costume.

“What? What are you laughin’ at?” he questions, his lips tugging up in a grin.

“Oh, nothing. Jus’ that you told our daughter she can’t be the creepy baby doll 'cause you’d be the one scared of her.” A laugh takes over the end of your sentence, a flash of your bright smile widening his own.

“Did not. It’s ‘cause we’d have a bunch of crying little kids and judging parents to deal with.”

“Sure, honey, sure. It’s okay if you’re scared.”

Stepping closer to you, he pinches your side playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you against his side. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, speaking softly, “Know me too well, baby…”

Your free hand pats his chest affectionately and you unravel from his hold. Joel takes your hand before you get far, intertwining your fingers together while you both shuffle along the wall of costumes. The plastic bags shine, displaying cartoonish outfits of various characters. The exaggerated smiles of the models give him the heebie-jeebies, shuddering his shoulders at the thought that any grown person would be that excited to wear itchy polyester once before letting it collect dust in their closet and giving it away before next Halloween.

Halting in front of the costume you were looking for Joel, you bend down to flick through the sizes, your lips pulling together in a thoughtful pucker. Standing back up straight next to him, your teeth toy your bottom lip left to right, eyes scanning for any other options before you turn toward him.

“Can’t find what you’re lookin’ for, baby?”

With a shrug, you respond, “They have the costume the girls wanted you to wear, but they don’t have your size. Think I can find some stuff at the thrift store or TJ Maxx or online to make the costume up if that’s okay—”

“Whatever you need to do. S’fine.”

“I’m sorry, hon, but you don’t need to worry about it, I’ll find everything.”

“Said s’fine, darlin’. Don’t even need to dress up, really.” A small seed of shame is planted in his gut, insecurity watering it and causing it to grow, branching off to tangled in his chest. Comfort eases him out of the spiral when your hands find his chest, rubbing softly and tilting your head to meet his gaze with pure affection.

“Still gotta dress up with us, hon. Who’s gonna be the Woody to my Buzz if it isn’t you? Can’t dress up as one half of the best friend duo without my best friend,” you grin, standing on your toes to catch his lips in a gentle kiss, which ends too soon for his taste despite being in the middle of the shop.

Vest shrugged onto his shoulder, and he gives himself another once over in his full outfit, the same insecurity from a few weeks ago pouring down to cultivate his shame. He doesn’t look the same as he did when he met you, even the same as he did last year. Graying hair and salt and pepper beard, lines next to his eyes and across his forehead, only deepened when he furrows his brow at the look of him in his costume.

He looks ridiculous.

Better to get this night over with, let his girls enjoy themselves, and attempt to forget his discomfort in the outfit. Picking up his cheap cowboy hat that arrived in the mail earlier that week, he avoids another look in the mirror before he slips out of the bathroom, eyes focused on the toes of his boots while he walks out the door of your bedroom, past the full-length mirror next to your closet and the small round one on your vanity.

No need to foul his mood and spoil the fun. It’s for his girls. 

The screams and laughter of children echo into the deepening night sky, the street bright from the lamps lining it along with porch lights staying on, open garage doors, all signaling a welcoming to the trick-or-treaters to come and grab their haul from each vast bowl or cauldron of candy.

Blurs of costume cross below Joel’s sightline as he walks hand-in-hand with you, kids running around blindly, the safety of such a crowd in the small neighborhood blanketing them with trust that they’ll be able to find their way home wherever they end up. Sarah and Ellie are ten paces ahead, moving quickly and efficiently to “maximize their candy collection”. Ellie’s words, after she presented her hand-drawn map of their neighborhood and the one across the main road, highlighting which houses are notorious for King Size treats and noting which ones give out toothbrushes or nothing at all.

The collar of his flannel is tightened around his neck from the string of his chestnut cowboy hat. Pulled down to rest on his clavicle, the body of the hat swings against his back as he walks, only adorning the top of his head for a few photos that you insisted on dragging out the tripod and self-timer for in the middle of the living room. He took the rest of the photos you wanted, maybe a bit too eagerly getting out of the frame and relaxing the slightest bit behind the camera. Photo evidence of how laughable he looks does not need to exist en masse. With a sigh, he reaches a hand up to tug the string down for what feels like the tenth time in thirty minutes of walking, relief felt for a few seconds before it slides back up to the base of his throat, flipping up the collar of his shirt with it.

Denim from his dark wash bootcut jeans starts to dig into his hips, roughening the skin there from his strides and their inch-too-small size from the year prior. These were deemed his “nice” jeans, per your request, only pulled out a handful of times a year for occasions that he was meant to look nicer than his raggedy Levi’s, covered in spots from paint, wood stain, oil, or dirt, the fraying, white strings hanging from the hems and ripping when caught under his step — all the signs of his day-to-day life. What he’s comfortable in.

These — these are not comfortable, not worn in enough to feel buttery against his skin, and not returning to his size even after washing and line drying. These are stiff, formed to his skin and resisting a tightness with each swing of his legs. The fresh material rubs against his bare skin underneath, the waist of his boxers falling an inch or two down to create the perfect space for the waistband to chafe. He’s tempted to pause the two of you walking along, long enough to tuck in the material of the flannel, but quickly decides against it when he thinks about the exaggeration of his stomach with the form-fitting, tucked shirt stretched over it.

Occupied in his thoughts, he barely notices that you've slowed down until you come to a stop at the end of a driveway, two streets over from your own home, waiting as your daughters wait in line for their packaged sugar. 

You hold onto his bicep with your opposite hand, leaning your weight against his side. Like a weighted blanket, in the interim of a hug from you, he takes on the change to his equilibrium, relishing in the comforting press of your body against him. Easing away his anxieties and his insecurities that, of course, had to be present for this wholesome, once-a-year family night; he rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your rosemary and mint shampoo, tingling his nostrils and drinking down the scent he’s so familiar with.

His focus draws to Sarah, hair in a French braid pulled away from her face and cherry red cowboy hat on her head, and Ellie, lime green face paint that she insisted on and an antenna sticking up from the top of her head and exaggerated, pointed green ears all attached to the same headband. The two of them are near the front of the queue for candy at this particular house, the process a bit more involved with a haunted graveyard required to pass through to earn your sweet reward. 

All she’d been saying the whole night since getting dressed had been “The claaaaaw!” or “I have been chosen!”. She screams the latter in the face of a teenager who pops out from a bush to scare her, completely unphased as she sneaks past him, grabbing a handful of candy for her and Sarah, running back down the path with her older sister before they pause to distribute the goods.

Joel lifts your joined hands, hooking his arm over your shoulder and laying your arm across your chest as he gathers you closer.

“So how many cavities do you think we’ll be paying for ‘cause of tonight’s candy haul?” he wonders aloud, a smile ticking up the side of his mouth when you giggle at his joke. It never gets old, being able to make you laugh, and it’s like a weed whacker to the strangling vines of his insecurities growing tightly in his chest. A looseness that gives him the chance for a deep breath, gratitude wilting the branches as he studies the grin on your face, the admiration twinkling in your eyes.

“Probably should be callin’ the dentist to see if they have a two-for-one discount.” It’s his turn to laugh at your response, tautening his arm around your shoulders to tow you closer to him, your head tilting back as you swing your front toward him. Joel bends his neck, pecking your lips with a smile before he looks back toward his daughters walking back to the two of you.

Annoyance thumbs the bruise of shame, driving his frustrations higher; his hand reaches up again with a huff, yanking the string away from his neck, “Thing’s like a damn noose…”

“Jus’ take it off, hon, I’ll carry it for you,” you sweetly suggest, swinging your joined hands between your bodies.

“But, you got it for me…” he mumbles guiltily, a worry in his voice over your potential irritation with him. Ever the masochist, Joel argues with you, not wanting to disappoint. He knew he should have just kept his mouth shut—

Pausing in your steps, you hang behind him long enough to snatch the hat off his back, releasing it from around his neck and depositing it on your head in one smooth movement. Taking his hand again, you continue, unphased by his complaints and happy to hold onto the new accessory.

At the next house, the two of you wait at the end of the driveway for the girls; Joel taps the side of his pointer finger on the brim as you look up at him, a cheeky smile growing on his face as a thought distracts from his festering doubts. His voice lowers, rasping as he speaks only to you, attempting to disguise the conversation from all the people milling about.

“Y’know, there are consequences for stealing a cowboy’s hat, baby.” Wetting his lips with the quick swipe of his tongue, his hands drift to your waist, fingers stretching to skim the top of your ass, dangerously close to grabbing a handful in front of everyone.

“M’well aware of those consequences, cowboy. Why d’you think I took it?” You shoot him a wink that goes straight down below the belt, a brazen flash of mischief in your eyes, the reflections of yellow lamplight lighting them up further. 

Gripping his biceps, your nimble fingers squeeze gently while your thumbs rub massaging circles into his slightly flexed muscles. A nearly inaudible hum of a moan rolls from your chest, one of his hands gathering the polyester material of your dress tightly at the sound. Beckoning him to fold forward with one look, he molds his lips to yours in a supple kiss. It lasts only the length of an inhale, drinking in the taste of your lips before your warmth is fleeting, hands patting his chest in a signal to wrap it up.

He grumbles, irritation heating under his collar as he itches to get home and for the night to be over, now for more than one reason. You laugh softly at his annoyed pout, poking his chest as you tease, “What? Mad ‘cause you got a snake in your boot?”

“More like in my jeans…” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough for you to hear and playfully jab his arm, shaking your head as you breathe out a chuckle from your nose.

“Nice, Miller. In a costume for a kid’s movie no less.”

He matches your laugh, shrugging when you turn in his arms, back to him as you await your daughters to make their way back to the both of you. His arms drape around your hips, tugging you into his chest to press against him comfortably, the plush-filled wings of your costume padding you against his torso. Lips find your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he responds, “What’s the saying from the movie? To infinity and beyond? Reckon that’s where I’ll be takin’ you by the end of tonight.”

“Joel!” you attempted to chide, your laughter exposing your real feelings over the suggestive comment, laying your arms over his. The girls walk toward the two of you, and he takes a second to press an open-mouth kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin before unfurling himself from you. A light smack on the side of your ass is the punctuation to the teasing, Joel standing up straight and taking your hand.

“Giddy-up, partner,” he murmurs before turning his attention to Sarah and Ellie, overly excited and completely calm. “Whatcha y’all get this time? Anything good?”

They answer over each other and he nods along, corralling them to start to walk to the next house, “Alright, mission accomplished at this house. Onto the next, we gotta get this wagon a-movin’! Only got another hour in me, girls.”

Protests whine against his announcement and your daughters start to walk faster, determined to complete their hit-list for the houses with the good stuff. You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as Joel looks over at you, feigning innocence.

“What? Got a bad back, bein’ out in the cold makes it worse.”

Now back at home, the four of you are gathered in the living room, costumes all on still as you seek out the comfort and warmth of the soft furnishings and blankets. Joel lounges on the couch, you next to him, back leaning against his side while your legs stretch out on the rest of the sofa. Ellie and Sarah have taken to the floor in front of the coffee table, massive pillowcases dumped out and beginning to be sorted. Every so often, you or Joel get up with the sound of the doorbell, passing out candy to the dwindling number of trick-or-treaters. Eventually, the intrusion stops completely, the TV playing a bad, kitschy Halloween movie per the request of the girls.

They trade their earnings, and you and Joel steal on the sly, both from the bowl you were handing out and from Sarah and Ellie’s piles. Wrappers are strewn around the floor and across the surface of the coffee table, the sound of another torn open by the girls making you sigh and sit up.

Holding out your hand, you shake your head, beckoning for the treat with your fingers, “Okay, Ellie. No more candy. You’re not going to be able to go to sleep if you keep eating it now, it’s too late.”

Ellie whines, rolling her head back with a groan before pleading her case, “Please, Mom, just this last one! And then I’ll be done, promise. Please.”

Joel chuckles when she shoots you the same puppy dog eyes that he gives to you to get what he wants, knowing his smirk grows wider when you fold easily. Shooting your head over to him, you announce to the whole room, “No more candy for anyone. C’mon girls, put it all back in your bags.” 

Calmness finds itself back in the room once all the complaints are lodged with you, the girls lying down to watch the movie while you continue to sit with Joel. Spaced out as he focuses on the film, his attention is grabbed when he hears the crinkle of wrappers and glances around to find all three of his girls indulging further.

With the remote from his lap, he pauses the movie, pouting as he exclaims, “Hey! What happened to not havin’ any more candy? If I can’t have anymore, y’all can’t either.”

Sneaking the last bite of her fun-size Snickers bar, Ellie giggles and shrugs, always the smart aleck, “Well, you are gettin’ a little pudgy, Dad, maybe less candy’ll help.”

Sarah and you giggle at her lighthearted teasing, and Joel waves it off with a breathy chuckle, leaning back against the cushions as Sarah chimes in with her jests, “Yeah, think you’re getting a little fluffy, Dad. Better to lay off now than at Christmastime with all Mom’s cookies.”

Joel attempts to defend himself from the teasing by threatening their candy supply, eager to end the conversation as the back of his neck heats up, “If m’already gettin’ pudgy then I guess that permits me to eat all your candy.”

They both are in a fit of giggles, continuing to tack on silly comments as Joel sits quietly on the couch, trying to mask the way the words worm their way in, feeding the shame and insecurity that was already festering in his chest from the last few weeks.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a smile as you laugh softly, “Alright, alright, enough. Think that’s the sign that it’s time for bed. C’mon, up up up.” Before standing, you pat Joel’s thigh and shoot him a carefully concerned look, but he wipes away your worry by sending you a warm smile back, laying his hand over yours and squeezing gently. 

Joel stays downstairs to clean up, the girls both saying goodnight before you follow them upstairs to get them ready for bed. Gathering candy wrappers in his fists, he throws them away in the kitchen, stomach rolling as he replays the small comments from minutes ago. He knows it was teasing, all in good fun as it always is between his girls and you, but he can’t shake the heaviness inside of him, the hot prickles of shame when he passes by the mirror in the hallway on his way back to the living room.

The bowl of extra candy you were handing out gets placed back on the coffee table, his silly cowboy hat from the evening deposited on top of it to hide the contents. Not that he was going to eat anymore, he couldn’t stomach even the thought of anything else when all he could think about was how much he desperately wanted to shed his skin at that moment. Breathing shallows when he settles on the couch again, one of his hands pressing onto the left side of his chest and willing his heart to slow down, for his brain to silence itself.

The skin of his palm meets the scruff of his beard, scratching against the roughened, worked skin. Grays in his hair, salt and pepper beard, wrinkles on his forehead and at the side of his eyes, softened tummy from years of love and care, from an easy life with you.

He certainly isn’t the same Joel that you met all that time ago, that you fell in love with. Have you noticed the changes as much as he has?

He swears you haven’t aged a day; all the more beautiful with each passing day.

Light steps carry you back downstairs, the sound shaking Joel out of his thoughts as you swing around from the staircase and through the entrance to the living room. Joel relaxes on the couch, the same spot he was occupying before, only sinking further into the cushion, shifting to pull the fabric of his shirt away from his stomach. Glancing up at you, away from whatever was playing on the TV that did nothing to distract him from himself, he sends you a tight smile, stretching an arm over the back of the couch to welcome you in.

Accepting it, you sit next to him, curling up into his side with your legs under you, leaning against his frame with your comforting weight. Your hand rests on his chest, your head on his shoulder while you both watch the TV movie playing. Silence falls between the two of you, minutes passing by with only the noise from the speakers, the volume turned low so as not to disturb the kids upstairs.

Joel feels your hand move against his chest, curling up to leave your pointer finger extended, the pad of it skimming against his flannel. He ignores the feeling, figuring it’s you fidgeting as you do while you focus. The same thing as twirling your hair while you’re reading, tapping your foot as you cook.

But when your hand stairs to wander, his eyes flick down to watch its path, your gaze still facing forward and quiet. With your thumb and index finger, you work open the first button on his shirt, trailing down with the rest undone in your route. Slipping under the material, your cold hand presses against his chest, nails scraping against the skin there. With a sigh at the contact, Joel finally uses his hand to gently caress your chin, turning you to face him.

Low and rasping, he questions, “What are you doin’ exactly, darlin’?”

Innocently, you shrug, bottom lip bit down on while your touch moves lower again, skimming across his stomach and reaching the waistband of his jeans, “Well, I still have to face the consequences from stealin’ your hat, cowboy.”

Fingers dip below his belt line, toying with the elastic band of his boxers. Slipping away, he almost protests at the loss, biting his tongue when you move next to him, sitting up on your knees while both hands reach for the button and zipper of his jeans. When his button pops from its secure place, he warns with a breathy exhale, “Baby…”

“Mhm, yes, honey?” you reply, words trailing up at the end, feigning naivety. Through your lashes, you send him a pout, tongue poking out to dampen your plush lips that he stares at, his mouth parted with heavy breaths. His blood is rushing from his head, leaving him feeling light, as it all pumps to his cock, your delicate and teasing touches getting him half-hard.

Before you can tug down his zipper, you pause, taking your hands off of him; he holds back a whimper, the sound dying as a low hum in his throat.

“Don’t worry, baby, m’not done yet. Let’s go to our room, yeah?” Your voice is soothingly saccharine, an eager nod being his only response. 

Shutting off the TV, you stand from the sofa and take his hand, snatching the cowboy hat from the coffee table before pulling him to stand and follow you across the main floor, down the hallway into your first-floor bedroom. Joel shuts the door behind him, your nod toward the handle serving as a reminder for him to flick the lock.

 “Y’know, honey, you’re always showing me how you feel about me. I think it’s time we had a night that’s all about you…” He’s holding in a breath as you stalk closer to him, shaking his head as the back of his neck heats up.

“No, baby, you don’t—I don’t…” he stutters before trailing off, ashamed that he can’t think of any other excuse than the truth of why he does not want the attention on him tonight.

“You don’t…?” Running your hands across the expanse of his chest, he drops his shoulders in, curling around to make himself smaller, one foot stepping back but he doesn’t move from under your touch.

Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, faintly confiding, “I don’t feel like I deserve it. I jus’, I’d rather give to you, baby.”

“Oh, Joel…you deserve it and more, honey. Why wouldn’t you?” Your fingers graze up, skating across his skin and carding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not…not the same. I don’t look like who you fell in love with. Everything’s changing, catching up to me. Got gray hair and white in my beard and wrinkles and a beer belly startin’ and my back hurts all the time. M’not who I used to be but you—”

“Have changed, too. It’s not just you, Joel. Everything’s a little softer now, I’ve got wrinkles too. Found like four gray hairs yesterday and had a mild panic attack before I got into the shower. M’curvier and—”

“And you’re fucking beautiful, baby. You’re as beautiful, if not more beautiful than the day I met you.” He’s quick to defend your negative self-talk, his hands running delicately along the curves of your sides and around your lower back. Enveloping you in his arms, he presses your foreheads together, nose notched next to yours.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Joel. Don’t listen to us teasin’ you, especially me, ‘cause I wouldn’t change a thing about you…” As you tilt your head back, your nose grazes against his cheek, feeling a rush of heat from your breath as your lips hover over his, deliciously close to a kiss, “Can I show you what I think about you, honey?”

Joel nods, wordlessly waiting in anticipation; in the next breath, your lips crash into his, drinking him down deep while the hand at the back of his head tangles further into his hair and tugs. He moans, parted lips allowing you to lick into his mouth, whining at the taste of him before you push the flannel material from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as you continue to dominate the kiss.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. Joel follows your lead, carefully moving backward, your tongue melding with his. All he can focus on is the taste of you — sweet, fruity, with the tang of citric acid from all the sour candies you stole from the bowl, the softest hint of chocolate as an aftertaste from his indulgences. The flavors of you coat his mouth, the scent of your perfume and shampoo mixing in his nose, and the feeling of your soft skin in his rough palms when he hikes up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass; it all stirs together, creating an intoxicating cocktail of you that he can seem to taste enough of. Joel’s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he’s being pulled away from your mouth with a pop when you ease him to sit down. Curiosity flashes in his mind, the sight of you over him with kiss-swollen lips growing the bulge in his undone jeans. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, beautiful?” His voice is lecherous as it comes out in a rasp, dripping with desire and a bit of wonder over what exactly you’re going to do with your night in control.

You shake your head at him, standing up straight and reaching for his hands, placing them at the hem of your dress, “Go ahead, baby. Take off as much as you want.”

His choice is obvious, tugging the fabric over your head with your help, a hand around your back yanking you to stand close, between his spread legs, while his fingers work open the clasp of your bra. Sitting back on his hands, he observes greedily as you let the straps fall down your arms, dropping the bra entirely onto the floor.

“These too?” Your thumbs hook into the waistline of your panties, doe-eyed and biting down on your body lip teasingly. Cotton-mouthed, Joel nods slowly, lips parted with shaking breath as you strip completely, sinking to your knees in front of him before he can reach out for a handful of your curves.

He lets you work his jeans down to his thighs, his boxers following in their wake, his cock springing free against his bare stomach. You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, the need to see every single one of your movements outweighing the drying of his eyes with his slow, infrequent blinking. Scooting to settle comfortably on your knees, you stand up straighter, gaining enough height to bend your head over his lap, lips meeting his soft tummy and hands gripping onto his thighs. Delicate kisses and ghosting touches on his skin raise goosebumps, a warm shudder trickling down his back at your tenderness.

“So handsome…” you whisper, grazing your teeth into the flesh of his torso, biting down to nip. “Y’know I think about doin’ this all the time, baby. Every time you take off your shirt, jus’ wanna sink my teeth into you.”

His cheeks heat with sincere attention, muscles in his abdomen flexing when you litter lovebites and heated, open-mouth kisses all over him, the gentle touches and desire to relax his anxieties slowly. The focus on your mouth drops to his thighs, turning your head to the side when you sit back on your haunches, licking a stripe up toward his aching cock, a quivering exhale from his mouth drawing your eyes to his face. A satisfied smile stretches across your face, kissing his inner thigh before mirroring the actions on the opposite side. His fingers curl into the duvet, gripping hard as your lips wander closer to where his stiff cock drips needily, throbbing for any kind of reprieve.

“You’re so pretty, baby. So strong, solid.” The sweet nothings tickle at the back of his neck, words that he’s sure you’ve spoken before, but at this moment, they raise his body temperature and lighten his head, the only thoughts being how much he needs you.

Standing on your knees again, you bend your neck over Joel’s lap, eyes flickering up to his face to look at him through your lashes. Your lips part, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto his waiting cock, the sensation making him hiss with urgency. One of your hands wraps around him and strokes slowly. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. One swipe of your thumb across his tip drags the beads of pre-cum from where they’re leaking, melting them into the mix of your saliva that lubricates your motions.

Searing needles pierce into his skin when you finally give in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin of his swollen length. Your thumb brushes against his tip again, another hiss of pleasure escaping from between his teeth. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you to ground himself.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the fresh dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. Humming satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, he looks down at you meeting his gaze, feeling the splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration of your light teasing. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’, please.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, and he’s lost in the delicious warmth of your mouth, unabashed in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Starting a slow bob up and down, he moans at the weight of him on your tongue, saliva coating the underside of his cock as he feels you curl the muscle against every vein. With half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t initially fitting inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, hyperaware that his cheeks are likely visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” You shift in your position slightly, thighs rubbing together and a chuckle rolls from his lips, smug in the need he’s drawing from you simply from enjoying his pleasure. A sigh exhales around him in your mouth as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your aches.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan rumbling from his chest, the reverberations sending aftershocks to the tips of his ears. At that point, he gets lost in the high feeling, his composure leaving him when his large hand at the back of your head pushes you down onto his cock, taking him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me,” he whines, heading tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut, shallow thrusts meeting the rhythm of your head. “Gonna fuckin’ come, baby, holy fuck, I—”

A moan around him gurgles to nothing when he thrusts again, hand tangled in your hair pulling you back until his tip rests against your lips, “Don’t wanna—please—” His words are lost on the tip of his tongue, pleasure hazing his mind as he searches for the plea he wants to make with you.

You giggle from your knees, swiping your fingers to wipe away the drool from the corners of your mouth, a satisfied smirk on your face. Bracing yourself on his thighs, you push yourself up, standing in between his legs while your hands find his shoulders, scraping your fingernails against the curve of them.

“You wanna come inside of me? Not my mouth? Is that what you were trying to say, baby?”

“Yes,” he exhales, relieved to find the word he needed, blinking open his eyes to look up at you. Your thumb skates across his bottom lip, holding onto his jaw as you study his features.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Joel. Anything for my perfect, doting husband. D’you know how fucking good it makes me feel to make you feel good?” you question curiously, tilting his head as he lets you mold him whichever way you want. “Tell me how you deserve to have me like this. ‘Cause you’re so fucking good to me, tell me that you’re gonna let me fuck you, let me take your come inside of me.”

“Baby, I don’t think that—” he starts, palms pressing into the backs of your thighs as he looks up at you.

“Tell me, Joel. You said you wanted to be the one giving to me tonight. That’s what I want.” You use his earlier, shy request against his negative thoughts, and the intensity in your eyes bends him to your will.

“M’gonna let you have my cock, gonna let you fuck me and show me how much you love when I take care of you.” The words roll foreignly on his tongue, unconvincing coming from his mind to his mouth. You bend a knee, bringing it up to rest next to his thigh, nodding along to encourage him to continue, “I give you whatever I can give to you, and always gonna, baby. Now’s your turn to take care of me, right?”

“That’s right, honey. I should show you how much I appreciate you more often…you work so hard, give us exactly what we need, and provide for us. My big, strong man. You do so much for me, baby. Gonna show you how thankful I am for you, how grateful I am that you’re lettin’ me have this cock,” your words breathe hot against his ear, your other leg now straddling him on the bed, cunt hovering over his waiting cock. A hand leaves his shoulders, reaching between your stomachs to wrap around him, guiding him to your entrance. His breath catches in his throat when you ease down onto him, pushing through the wet seal of your slit.

Wet heat envelopes him, taking in a few inches of him; Joel groans under you, head falling forward onto your breasts, forehead pressed into your sticky skin. One hand tangles into his curls, dragging his head back to look into your eyes. Your hips start to move, adjusted to his size easily and taking more of his cock, letting it split you open inch-by-inch. His eyes wildly search yours, seeing the pleasure overtake your mind, lips parting to match his as you both breathe out shallow, hot breaths.

“Fuck, Joel, so fucking big…” you whine for the first time tonight and the sound goes straight to his cock, twitching him inside of you as his hips jerk up, giving you another inch. Lust clouds his mind, nodding confidently as you take him, desperate to feel your tight, dripping cunt around him entirely.

“I know, baby, I know. Should’ve let me get you ready. But I bet you like the stretch, like a lil’ bit of pain, huh?” he coos, arm snaking around you to hold you closer, your eyes fluttering closed above him as you nod languidly.

“Fuckin’ love it, makes it feel even better,” you whimper when his arm tugs you down further, only an inch or two away from him being fully sheathed.

“C’mon, be my good girl, baby. Show me how you sit on my cock.” He leans forward, bending you backward with his force and holding you tight, his lips attaching to the soft, velvety skin of your breasts and biting, “Gotta face your punishment for stealin’ my hat. Take a cowboy’s hat, gotta ride the cowboy, babygirl. I don’t make the rules.”

You giggle, eyes clearing as you’re pulled out of your cloud of pleasure, gripping onto his shoulders and holding eye contact as you finally sink completely down, burying Joel’s cock inside your soaked pussy. Moans echo in the room, bitten down before they get too loud, your hips immediately finding a quick, sloppy pace to chase your highs. The slick glide of your walls grip his cock lusciously, your flooding arousal coating his balls as thighs as you ride him. Little noises slip from your mouth, simmering the coals burning in the base of his gut as he feels the familiar bliss building.

“Is this what I’m supposed to be doin’, cowboy?” you wonder, hips continuing their pace and mouth twisting as you hide a smile. Joel is unashamed, a wide grin on his face as he unravels one arm from you, picking up the hat from the corner post of the bed, and setting it loosely on top of your head. Giggles erupt from the both of you, your pace faltering as the muscles in his stomach cramp from use. 

Recovering from the interlude, your thighs rub against the outside of his as you bounce, nails digging into his shoulders as your rhythm picks back up, the slap of skin against skin the only noise save for your airy breaths that get shallower and shallower. Flames have ignited in his gut, licking inside and burning hotter and hotter the closer he gets. Nearly at the edge, he needs more, body taking over and lifting you with him as he stands, holding you up on his cock as he thrusts hard and quick into you, dripping for him and gripping him tight to keep yourself up while he fucks into you.

“Oh—fuck, Joel! Right there, m’gonna—oh!” Your desperate pleas in his ear pitch up as you moan, cunt tightening with a flutter around him as you come, soaking his dick as he continues his hard pace, selfishly chasing his high. 

A growl rolls from his chest when you come, his fingernails biting into the flesh of your ass, the slap of his balls against your skin as they draw up. His eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name, the first rope of his come released into your cunt, smaller whimpers following in its wake as he fucks one, twice more, filling you up as deep as he can.

Limbs feeling heavy, he turns you both around, pulling you off of him and dropping you gently onto the mattress. He flops down next to you onto his stomach, blissfully out of it as you move to straddle his back, fingers working the knots and soothing the aches growing there after a long week of work, and a night spent corralling your kids.

The warm press of your body against his back makes him hum contently, your breasts at his shoulder blades as you lay on him, one of his hands reaching the rub his fingers softly against the outside of your thigh.

“You know I think you’re the most handsome, right, honey?” you ask with a hint of worry in your voice, barely above a whisper. He nods, rolling over to his back underneath you and meeting your eyes, brow furrowed with concern.

“I know, baby. Jus’ was feeling weird this whole week. You made it a lot better, though.” A knuckle nudges your cheek, and you take the hat off, Joel chuckling again as you throw it off to the side of the bed. Laying down on him again, he strokes your hair while you hug yourself to his torso, both your eyes and his fluttering shut with exhaustion, from tonight and life in general.

Before drifting off, Joel speaks up, cheekily asking, “So…can I wear this costume next year, too?”

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[yourmomsawh0r3]

heatwave

joel miller x female wife reader

Joel was covered in dirt and sweat as he drove home from the construction site, his muscles aching from the day's labor. The sun was beginning its slow descent, but the heat wave showed no mercy, turning his truck into a sweltering oven. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and reached for the radio, sifting through stations in search of something to distract him from the oppressive heat.

Country, rock, talk radio nothing seemed to stick. He finally settled on a classic rock station playing an old favorite, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. Despite his exhaustion, there was a flicker of excitement in his chest. The thought of getting home to Y/N always made the end of a long workday bearable.

Joel glanced at the clock on the dashboard, noting it was later than usual. He pressed his foot a little harder on the gas, eager to get home. The streets of Texas flew by in a blur of familiar landmarks, and he maneuvered through traffic with practiced ease.

As he turned onto their street, Joel’s eyes scanned the houses, finally landing on his own. He spotted Y/N immediately, out in the yard, pushing the lawn mower. She stood out like a beacon in her matching hot pink Lulu tank and athletic shorts, drenched in sweat and looking utterly determined. Joel felt a pang of guilt and frustration mix with his concern. He should have mowed the lawn last week like he promised, but work had been relentless.

He pulled into the driveway and parked the truck, shutting off the engine with a sigh. The cool blast of air from the air-conditioned cab was a sharp contrast to the heat outside, but Joel knew he couldn't stay in there forever. He stepped out into the blazing sun and made his way towards Y/N, his worry growing with each step.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing out here?" he called out, his voice a mix of irritation and concern.

She looked up, startled, then sighed and shut off the mower. "Cutting the grass, Joel. What does it look like?"

"You shouldn't be out in this heat," Joel growled, reaching her and taking the mower handle from her hands. "It's dangerous."

"I asked you last week to cut it," Y/N replied, frustration creeping into her voice. "And today we got a ticket from the HOA for unkempt grass. What was I supposed to do?"

Joel ran a hand through his hair, feeling the sweat trickle down his neck. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. Work's been crazy, but you shouldn't have to deal with this." He glanced at the ticket peeking out from under a rock on the front porch and sighed. "I'll finish up here. Go inside and cool off."

Y/N crossed her arms, a stubborn glint in her eyes. "Joel, I can handle it. I'm not made of glass."

"I know you're not," Joel softened his tone, stepping closer to her. "But that doesn't mean you should have to be out here doing this in this kind of heat. Please, go inside. Let me take care of it."

She looked at him for a moment, then her expression softened. "Fine," she relented, "but only because I’m about to melt."

Joel chuckled and leaned in to kiss her forehead, tasting the salt of her sweat. "Thank you."

Y/N headed inside, and Joel turned back to the lawn mower, determined to finish the job quickly. The sun beat down mercilessly, and sweat soon soaked through his shirt. As he worked, he couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have Y/N. She was strong, stubborn, and fiercely independent, but she also had a heart of gold.

Finally, the lawn was done, and Joel wiped his brow, feeling a sense of satisfaction. He put the mower away and headed inside, where the cool air was a welcome relief. He found Y/N in the kitchen, a glass of iced tea in her hand. She'd changed into a fresh tank top and shorts, her skin still glistening from a quick shower.

"Finished," Joel announced, leaning against the doorframe. "And next time, I promise I won't let it get so bad."

Y/N smiled and handed him a glass of iced tea. "I'll hold you to that."

Joel took a long drink, savoring the cool liquid. "Thanks for taking care of things today, even if I wish you hadn't had to."

She shrugged, her smile softening. "That's what partners do, right? We take care of each other."

Joel set the glass down and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "Yeah, we do. And I'm damn lucky to have you."

Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. "I'm lucky to have you too, Joel."

They stood there for a moment, savoring the quiet and the closeness, before Joel pulled back just enough to kiss her. It was a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the love and gratitude he felt for her.

"How about we order some takeout and relax for the rest of the day?" Joel suggested when they finally broke apart.

"Sounds perfect," Y/N agreed, her eyes shining with affection.

As they settled onto the couch later, takeout containers spread out before them, Joel couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. No matter what challenges they faced, he knew they'd always face them together. And that was more than enough for him.

After their dinner, Y/N stood up and stretched. "Alright, mister," she said with a playful grin. "It's time you learn how to make sweet tea the right way."

Joel raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh, is that so? I've been drinking sweet tea my whole life, darlin'."

"Trust me, once you taste mine, you'll realize you've been missing out," Y/N teased, leading him into the kitchen. She pulled out a jug, a pot, and a box of tea bags. "First, we need to boil some water."

Joel filled the pot with water and set it on the stove, turning up the heat. Y/N handed him a few tea bags, and he dropped them into the pot, watching as the water began to simmer and the tea bags started to release their rich, amber color.

"Now comes the important part," Y/N said, pulling out a measuring cup. "We need two cups of sugar."

Joel's eyes widened. "Two cups? That's a lot of sugar."

"Trust me," she said with a wink. "It's what makes it so good."

Joel measured out the sugar, pouring it into the jug. As the tea finished steeping, Y/N had him carefully pour the hot tea mixture into the jug over the sugar. He stirred, watching as the sugar dissolved into the hot tea.

"Now, we just add cold water to fill up the rest," Y/N instructed. Joel did as she said, filling the jug with cold water and giving it a final stir.

"All done?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

"Almost. Now, we need to let it chill in the fridge for a bit," she said, placing the jug in the refrigerator. "But, since we don't want to wait too long, let's pour a couple of glasses over ice."

Joel grabbed two glasses and filled them with ice, while Y/N poured the freshly made sweet tea over the cubes. She handed one to Joel, who took a tentative sip.

As soon as the sweet tea hit his tongue, Joel's eyes widened. "Damn, that is good," he admitted, taking another, more appreciative sip. "Alright, you win. Your sweet tea is the best."

Y/N laughed, a proud smile lighting up her face. "Told you. Now you know the secret."

Joel leaned in and kissed her, tasting the sweetness of the tea on her lips. "Thank you for teaching me," he said softly. "And for always making everything better."

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "That's what partners do, right? We make each other better."

Joel smiled, holding her tightly. "Yeah, we do."

They spent the rest of the night enjoying their perfect sweet tea, the heat wave outside forgotten as they savored each other's company.

[topgun-imagines]

Something In The Orange

Requested: no

Summary: When Mav pulls Bradley’s papers, you have no idea. You only find out when your boyfriend dissapears in the middle of the night.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut, blowjobs, handjob, oral sex (male & fem!receiving) fingering, penetrative sex, foul language, loss of virginity, angst, break ups, crying, fights, insecurity, complicated relationships, drifting apart. Please let me know if I missed anything! 18+

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Bradley was the first person that you ever really loved. The two of you had met during your junior year of high school. Ever since then, the two of you had become inseparable. You finally started dating the summer before your senior year. Bradley had applied to USNA and you had a scholarship to go to law school in Texas. Even though you had only been together for just over a year, you felt like you would spend the rest of your life with Bradley.

Now, you were riding shotgun in Bradley’s blue Bronco. You were on the way back to his house. His fingers were intertwined with yours as he pulled up to the sidewalk. Your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your knuckles as he shut the truck off. Hopping down, he rounded the front of the truck and opened your door for you.

The two of you walked hand in hand toward the door. The house that he, Mav, and Ice were staying in had light blue siding and a large white front porch. There was an American flag hanging from the roof of the porch and a large elm tree in the middle of the unfenced yard. Ever since Carole passed a few months ago, Mav and Bradley had been staying with Ice.

You were quiet as you slipped into the darkness of the house. The two of you giggled quietly as Bradley led you up the stairs and into his bedroom. The sound of the door clicking softly behind you mixed with your laboured breaths was all that could be heard in the tiny room.

Tonight was finally going to be the first time that you and Bradley had sex. And while Bradley had some experience in this field, you had no idea what you were doing.

Bradley’s hands settled on the side of your face as his lips moulded together with yours. You melted into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth when it traced the seam of your lips. A quiet, high-pitched whine escaped you as his tongue tangled with yours.

He pulled away a few seconds later, laughing quietly as his forehead knocked against yours. “You gotta be quiet baby.” There was a sheepish smile on your face as a blush crept up your chest. Mav and Ice were right down the hall. You didn’t need them to hear anything of what was about to happen.

Suddenly, Bradley’s mouth went bone dry at the sight of you sinking onto your knees. You stared up at him as you brought one hand up to palm him through his jeans. He tossed his head back in a moan as you squeezed him softly.

Your boyfriend was panting when he looked back down. Slowly, you started to pull the zipper of his fly down. Then, as if you were teasing him, you popped the button on his jeans before dragging the material down his legs. That left him standing in front of you in nothing but his boxers. The sight made your mouth water.

With wide eyes, you glanced up at Bradley. He nodded encouragingly and sucked in a sharp breath when you began dragging his boxers down his legs.

His cock slapped against his stomach as you pulled the fabric down. There was a look of concertation on your face as you reached a hand up and gripped the base of his dick. It was one that Bradley had seen so many times before, usually when you had your nose hurried in a book. This time, however, was much less innocent.

You began moving your hand up and down his length, stroking him until he was fully hard.

By the time you were satisfied, there was a few drops of precum leaking from the head of his cock. The tip was an angry red colour. The whole time your hand was moving over him, you had been transfixed by the sound of his desperate moans and whimpers.

Bradley noticed the hesitant look in your eyes as you stared at the way his hips bucked in desperation. His hand settled against the soft skin of your cheek. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You instantly began shaking your head. You wanted this.

Sucking in a shaky breath, you steeled yourself before tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock once more. You gripped him firmly, leaning forward until your breath was ghosting across his tip.

When Bradley felt your puckered lips press a soft kiss to the crown of his cock, he had to stop himself from cursing aloud. You slowly began to grow more confident. Eventually, you were licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip, slipping the plush head inside your mouth afterward. That time, Bradley did curse.

You began suckling on the first few inches of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks as you began bobbing your head up and down, trying to recall any tips or tricks you had heard from your friends.

Bradley groaned above you, head tossed back against the door as his hand wove into your hair. A surprised moan vibrated from your mouth and through his cock when he tugged on your roots. Your tongue traced the vein on the bottom of his cock as you pushed yourself further and further down him until you were gagging around his length.

A choked gasp escaped him as he pulled you off his length. Bradley was panting as your hand continued to move slowly up and down his shaft. There was a devilish look in your eyes as your hand trailed down to his balls. You grinned as you squeezed softly, rolling them around in your hand.

“Get up, Honey,” His eyes were hooded, pleasure clouding the now-dark irises. You obeyed, standing before him as his hands gripped your hips. Harsh enough to leave bruises. You slipped your shirt over your head, grinning at the way Bradley’s eyes were focused on your tits. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look in his eyes when he made eye contact with you. “I’m gonna make you feel real good.”

You allowed Bradley to lead you back toward the bed. Your knees hit the back of the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft sheets. Bradley knelt between your spread legs. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the hungry look in his eyes.

Before you knew it, Bradley was slipping your shorts down your legs. Your breathing grew heavy as he began peppering kisses over the supple skin of your thighs. He kissed his way up to your center, leaving delicate purple marks in his wake.

Soft moans escaped you as he began to press gentle kisses over your clothed cunt. The cotton slowly soaked through.

Bradley looked up at you, eyes silently asking if you were sure about this. When you nodded your head softly, he grinned. Seconds later, the fabric was being dragged down your legs slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue trailing up the inside of your thigh.

The next thing you knew his lips were wrapped around your clit, causing your hips to buck wildly off the bed. You moaned loudly. Bradley's eyes darted up to yours, a cocky smirk on his face. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He reprimanded you gently.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Bradley ate you out like a starved man. He had your legs thrown over his shoulders, one hand gripping your leg while the other pinned your hips to the bed.

You did your best to control your moans, even going as far as biting your own hand to keep yourself quiet. Bradley’s tongue laved over your dripping hole. A high-pitched whine fell from your lips at the feeling of him slipping his tongue into your hole.

You could feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. The feeling kept building and building, so much so until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, the feeling disappeared completely. “I want to cum around me.” His words alone we’re almost enough to send you over the edge.

He slowly crawled up your body, hands skimming gently over your soft skin. His hard cock brushed against your lower abdomen as he settled on top of you. You grinned up at him and he gave you a reassuring smile in return.

Bradley pressed a plethora of kisses to the side of your neck. Pleasured gasps tumbled from your mouth as your back arched off the bed. “Condom,” You moaned out. “Bradley get a condom.”

Feeling his body weight disappear for a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for him to return. When you felt the bed dip beside you, a flush began rising up your chest. Your eyes opened slowly, taking in the sight of Bradley kneeling above you, fisting his cock slowly. You moaned at the sight, watching as he rolled the condom down his length.

Nerves filled you as Bradley lowered himself onto you. “You ready baby?” You nodded, sucking in a shaky breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. When it swiped over your clit you let out a sinful moan. Bradley groaned at the sound.

He stared deep into your eyes, reassurance shining through. Slowly, inch by inch, he eased himself into you. Your lips parted in a silent scream, suddenly overwhelmed by the intrusion. Bradley lowers himself down, cradling you to his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your damp hair.

Before you knew it, Bradley was seated balls deep inside of you. You panted harshly at the stretch, eyes screwing shut at the foreign feeling. “Tell me when.” Your boyfriend's voice was low and raspy as he fought his hardest to restrain himself. You were clenching so beautifully around him that he almost lost it the second he slid in. You nodded distractedly, willing the slight discomfort away.

After a few minutes, you nodded softly. “Please just,” You murmured quietly, still trying to catch your breath. “Just be gentle.” Bradley smiled down at you. You knew that he would, you just needed to remind him.

Bradley began slowly rocking into you, only slipping out a few inches before pushing back in. You moaned at the feeling, eyes rolling back as his tip brushed against a spot so deep inside you it made you want to cry.

The only sounds that could be heard in the small bedroom were the sounds of yours and Bradley’s joint moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin. Your boyfriend's hips rutted into yours quickly, drawing cry after cry from your parted and cracked lips.

Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, Bradley let out a deep groan at the feeling of your wet cunt clenching around his cock.

The feeling from earlier returned. You could feel the hot white pressure building, a coil tightening more and more with each of his sharp thrusts. You hardly noticed the way his pace grew sloppy. His warm breath fanned across the skin of your neck as you arched off the bed.

The sound of Bradley letting out a high-pitched whine had you gripping his cock like a vice. “Please Bradley,” You begged breathlessly. “‘M gonna cum,” Bradley nodded, eyes screwed shut as his hand drifted down to your core. “Fuck!” You exclaimed at the feeling of his fingers circling your clit in tight, precise patterns.

That coil was winding tighter and tighter, right up until one final nudge of his cock against that little spongy spot inside you sent you falling quickly over the edge. Bradley followed close behind, hot spurts of cum filling the condom as your cunt milked him dry. He continued to rock into you, working the pair of you through your intense highs.

He stilled inside of you a few seconds later. The pair of you continued panting as you wound your arms around his back. You stared up at the ceiling, a blissed-out grin on your face. you were so glad that you and Bradley had finally done that. All the nerves and worries from earlier had disappeared completely once Bradley first slipped in.

That blissed-out smile soon turned into a wince when he slipped out of you. He crawled off of you and dropped the used condom into the trash can. Bradley disappeared to the washroom. You followed on shaky legs. Bradley stood in front of the toilet, finishing his business before stepping over to the sink.

You sat down on the toilet and shot him a lazy grin. Once you were finished you flushed the toilet, cringing slightly at the sight of blood in the bowl. You had heard that that could happen but it didn’t make you any more comfortable.

Hand in hand, you and Bradley made your way back toward the bed, collapsing onto it in a fit of giggles. You snuggled together under the covers, your head resting on Bradley’s sweaty chest and his arm tucked under your shoulders.

Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, the post-sex haze making you feel sleepy. You tucked yourself under Bradley's chin, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “I love you, baby girl,” You heard him whisper. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer into his warmth. “Please don't ever forget that.” You hummed quietly, murmuring something along the same lines. Your words were slurred as you allowed sleep to pull you under.

“I love you too, Brad.”

The roar of Mav’s motorcycle was what woke you up in the morning. You stretched with a yawn, frowning when you felt the empty bed. You sat up, blinking quickly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. There was an orange glow streaming through the bedroom window and a quick glance at the clock told you it was just before 6 o’clock.

You got dressed slowly, guessing that Bradley and Ice were sitting downstairs having breakfast. However, the house was eerily quiet. Usually, when you stayed the night, you were woken by sloppy kisses being peppered across your face or the sound of Maverick and Ice laughing downstairs.

As you headed down the stairs, you continued to grow confused. You couldn’t even hear the scraping of utensils against plates. You rounded the corner into the kitchen, eyebrows furrowing when you found Ice sitting at the counter alone. He had a note clutched in his hands.

“Ice?” The sound of your voice caused his head to whip up. There was a sadness in his eyes, one that suddenly made you question why Mav sped off so fast this morning. “What’s going on?”

You sat down across from him, eyes the paper in his hand suspiciously. “Morning kiddo.” He had a sad smile on his face.

Worry grew in the pit of your stomach. “Where did Mav go? And,” You paused, glancing around the room in search of your boyfriend. “Where’s Bradley?” Ice almost didn’t want to tell you what happened.

He sighed, glancing between the note and your curious and oblivious eyes. “Look kiddo,” The Capitan started. He really didn’t know how to explain it to you in a way that wouldn’t destroy you. Honestly, he wasn’t sure that that was possible. “Just, just read this.” He handed the paper to you. It appeared as if had been crumpled and balled up multiple times. There were dark spots that you guessed had come from tears.

The letter was addressed to you and Ice. You found it odd that there was no mention of Mav. As you read through it, any hope that you had that everything was going to be okay died. It was from Bradley, explaining that due to the recent actions of Maverick, he couldn’t stand to live anywhere near Ice or Mav. He didn’t want them to have any say in what he did with his life. Nowhere in the letter did it explain why he wanted that.

“So,” You choked out, staring at the letter as you spoke to Ice. “What is this supposed to mean?” You stared at him, hands beginning to shake and tears welling in your eyes.

The older man stared at you with sympathy. “Bradley left last night,” A sob bubbled out of your chest. “Oh honey,” He cooed, pulling you into his chest as you cried. “Mav did something stupid and Bradley decided to leave,” His hand moved up and down your beck softly. “It’s not your fault.” He promised quietly.

You pulled back, breathing fast and hiccuping as you tried to calm yourself down. “Please Ice,” you practically begged him. “Please tell me that you’re kidding?” There was a sad smile on his face. You broke down into tears once again. “No,” You gasped out. You could feel your heart pounding on the inside of your skull. “He wouldn’t leave. Not after last night.” The reminder of what happened last night froze you in your tracks.

How could he do that after what happened last night? he knew how important that was for you. Apparently, it didn’t mean as much to him. Out of all the ways that you would have guessed this morning would go, either eating breakfast with your boyfriend’s makeshift family or sneaking out when no one was looking, you never thought that Bradley would have disappeared in the middle of the night. You never imagined waking up to find out that your boyfriend had left you without a goodbye after the night that you had spent together.

You had been there for him when Carole passed, holding him for weeks after he dealt with the loss of his mother. And now, he couldn’t even say goodbye or explain to you why he was leaving. There was hardly even a mention of you in the note he left. You thought that you at least meant a little more to him than that.

“What happened last night?” Ice’s question drew you out of your daydream. You shook your head. You felt as if you were going to be sick. Before Ice could stop you, you were rushing to the backyard, pacing around the deck as you sucked in laboured breaths.

The sliding door closed softly behind you, alerting you to the man's presence. Ice took a seat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you to explain why you were suddenly so distraught.

A humourless laugh escaped you. You couldn’t even begin to feel embarrassed about what you were about to admit, too consumed with a mixture of worry and betrayal. “We slept together last night. For the first time.” It was hardly a whisper and in the background noise of Miramar waking up, it was almost drowned out completely. And yet, Ice still heard you loud and clear. He heard the tremble in your voice as you spoke and he saw the way your hands shook.

Ice remained silent, watching as you stopped pacing. You set your hands on your hips, staring out over the fence at the rising sun. With a sigh, the Capitan stood from his seat and walked over behind you. “I just can’t believe he would leave.” You whispered brokenly. Bradley meant the world to you. It sucked learning that you didn’t mean enough for him to stay.

The pair of you stood on the edge of the deck in silence, Ice’s arm wound around your shoulders as he tried to comfort you. “I know,” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Tears fell down your face in steady streams as you came to terms with what happened.

Bradley had left. And as you stared at the orange hue tinting the sky, you knew that he was never coming home. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. Ice held you as you cried, wishing that this was all just a bad dream.

You spent the rest of the summer trying to move on from Bradley. It didn’t work, you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t deny the small sliver of hope in your mind that one day Bradley would come home. He never did, and so, in the fall, you boarded a plane for Texas. Ice had dropped you off. He saw the distant and longing look in your eye. The spark that had once been there had now died.

While you were away, you and Ice kept in contact. You hardly spoke to Mav. Ever since Bradley had left, the man that had once been like a father to you wanted nothing to do with you. Ice could have told you why but honestly, you didn’t want to know. Bradley hadn’t even bothered trying to contact you. You didn’t know whether you appreciated that he stayed gone, or if you resented him for ever leaving in the first place. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you knew it was closer to the second option.

Years later you graduated law school and went on to become a lawyer. Time went on and eventually, you didn’t think of Bradley every day. There were some days when the memory would pop up again, reminding you of all the pain you left behind. Each time it happened, you wished that you could forget everything about that small town. But, you could never be able to forget Bradley Bradshaw. After all, he was the first man you ever loved.

a/n: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ☺️ requests are open.

Tagging: @topguncultleader @t0kyoreveng3rs @soulmates8 @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @dreamgirl3300 @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @genius2050 @ice-doc-val @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @natt-67 @anglebabyange @oliviah-25

Join my taglist!

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race ✨ Thank you @chrisbitchtree for passing the baton ❤️

Dangerous Girl

Bull Rider Billy & Buckle Bunny Steve (CW: feminization, barebacking)

Also on AO3

The buzzer sounded and Steve blinked for the first time in a little over eight seconds.

Just like every other time, it had been the longest eight seconds of Steve’s life.

He watched as Billy seemed to effortlessly jump off of the wildly bucking bull before running a few yards to safety. Steve felt his entire body unclench, only becoming aware that he’d tensed every muscle as they released, achingly slow.

Fiery blue eyes caught Steve’s and he felt himself freeze again. Pinned by the heavy gaze that was interrupted only by the guard of a helmet.

Billy should’ve looked ridiculous as he took off the helmet, shaking out the blonde curls of his mullet and grinning wickedly. Except he really didn’t and Steve’s heart raced as Billy licked his lips, eyes still locked on Steve, causing all of the buckle bunnies around him to titter excitedly.

They all thought Billy was eyeing them. That they’d be the lucky one to ensnare The Billy Hargrove.

Steve knew better though.

Knew that no matter how hard he tried to fight it, that’d he’d be the one warming the bed in Billy’s travel trailer yet again. It happened every time Billy came back to Texas.

Steve would be drawn to whatever rodeo circuit Billy was currently dominating. Would hang on Billy’s fence just like those desperate buckle bunnies. He’d then make his way to the local bar and bend over the pool table to flirt shamelessly with Eddie or Argyle or whichever other bull rider was willing to put themselves into the line of fire that night. Eventually Billy would have enough and drag Steve out and fuck him six ways to Sunday.

He didn’t know why he bothered trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t happen.

It’d been happening since they were teenagers and Billy was just touring the local circuit. It didn’t matter how terribly he’d broken Steve’s heart when he’d signed up for a PBR membership at 18 and taken off to tour the entire continent, leaving Steve behind in their small, backwoods, Texan town.

The moment Billy had been back in Texas, Steve had dragged Jason and Robin to an event three hours away in Dallas just to let Billy defile him in a bar bathroom because they couldn’t make it out of the bar. Jason and Robin had not been amused on the drive home the following day.

He’d seen how they’d eyed Eddie and Heather though. They didn’t have much room to talk.

He drove the two and half hours to Houston a few days later by himself, just to do it all over again. He followed Billy to every single Texas show, turning around and heading back home just to wait another year then rinse and repeat for the last four years.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Billy broke eye contact and shuffled out of the arena. The spell broken, Steve removed himself from the fence and started trudging out towards his truck to drive himself to the local bar.

He was busy watching the way his boots kicked up dirt with each step which is why he let loose a scream when he suddenly found himself being yanked backwards and slammed up against a travel trailer. Steve’s scream was muffled by plush lips pressing against his, stubble scraping the sensitive skin of his face as fingers tangled in his hair.

Steve melted into the kiss, the familiar smell of Billy’s sweat and cologne hitting his nose just as his tongue forced its way into Steve’s mouth. Steve whined into the kiss as a strong hand grabbed his thigh and hiked it up so that their hips could press together a little tighter.

Hands lifting to grip the leather vest tightly, Steve finally found enough will power to push Billy back just enough to get some air.

“What the fuck, Billy?” Steve gasped, head thunking back against the metal of the trailer.

He was saved from the pain of collision by Billy’s hand cradling the back of his head.

“Couldn’t wait for all the bull shit at the bar,” Billy admitted, panting. “The way you were hanging on my fence with your fucking tits out almost got me bucked two seconds in.”

Steve glanced down at his chest where he’d left his pearl snap button up undone obscenely low. It was the same amount of buttons Billy usually had undone when he wasn’t buttoned up for riding. It was only fair.

“I don’t hang on your fence,” Steve muttered, rolling his hips and grinning when Billy cursed and stopped cupping the back of Steve’s head to plant it against the trailer.

“Don’t lie to yourself, princess,” Billy hissed, rocking against Steve in a dirty grind. “My own personal buckle bunny, getting wet just from watching me ride.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Billy,” Steve scoffed, eyes fluttering closed as they continued to rut against each other slow and filthy. “You’ve got plenty of bunnies to choose from.”

He’d meant it as a jab at Billy but Steve felt pain lance through his chest at his own words.

“Don’t care about any of them,” Billy grunted, burying his face in Steve’s neck and mouthing at the sensitive skin. “You’re the only bunny I care about hanging on my fence.”

“Bullshit,” Steve whimpered as Billy bit down.

“Bull true,” Billy mumbled, dropping his hand from the trailer and grabbing Steve’s other thigh.

Steve jumped so that Billy was supporting all of his weight and his already skin tight wranglers became suffocating. Billy gave Steve’s neck one last bruising suck before lifting his face to kiss him senseless again.

Letting his hands wander to plant against Billy’s drenched button down, Steve felt the strong muscles shifting under the fabric and sighed into the kiss. Fuck, he’d missed Billy. Only getting to see him a few times a year wasn’t enough and Steve yearned for more.

“It’s just you, Steve,” Billy breathed as he pulled away, pushing his sweaty forehead against Steve’s. “You know that, right?”

Steve hoped against all hope that it was true.

It’d been just Billy for him since he was 14 and Steve’s family moved to the sad little town of Hawkins, Texas.

“Then take me to bed and prove it to me, cowboy,” Steve dared, smiling when Billy’s grin turned sharp.

Billy pulled them away from the trailer and started marching along the length of it until they were inside. The smell of horse, cologne, and something quintessentially Billy that had Steve clenching in anticipation.

When Billy reached the steps to his bed, he set Steve down letting him climb up the short ladder and slapping his ass for good measure. Steve turned around to glare and was met with Billy’s self-satisfied grin.

“You knew what you were doing when you put on those jeans, princess,” Billy said like that explained everything.

It did.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows as he watched Billy climb up onto the raised area that constituted the trailer’s bedroom. Billy paused at the edge of the bed, kneeling between Steve’s knees

“You wet for me, princess?” Billy asked, sliding his palms up Steve’s denim clad thighs, eyes burning as he looked up at Steve.

Nodding, Steve bit his lip as he considered telling Billy just how wet he actually was. He wanted it to be a surprise though.

Billy gently removed Steve’s boots with an ease that never ceased to amaze Steve. He felt like he was going to war every time he tried to take them off himself.

He slowly moved on to Steve’s belt before working on his button and fly. Billy was moving so slow it was painful and Steve’s dick twitched as the pressure of his tight jeans released. With a smirk, Billy teasingly pulled down Steve’s jeans and briefs before settling back between his thighs.

His broad shoulders forced Steve’s thighs apart far enough to make his hips twinge. Steve held his breath in anticipation as Billy kissed his way up the inside of one of his thighs before parting Steve’s cheeks with his thumbs and choking.

Steve bit his lip against the smile fighting its way across his face as he felt Billy’s breath stutter against his dick.

“Fuck me,” Billy breathed reverantly as he dipped a thumb inside of Steve’s already lubed and stretched hole.

Steve groaned at the sensation of finally being filled, back arching against the bed.

“Watching me ride really got you fucking soaked, huh?” Billy asked, voice thick and gruff as he dipped a couple of fingers inside of Steve.

Gasping and falling back against the bed, Steve whined as Billy stroked his prostate with gentle pulses of his fingertips.

“Need you in me,” Steve pleaded, pitchy and whiny in the worst way as he squirmed. “Been thinking about it all day, waiting for your ride.”

“I can’t -“ Billy cut himself off as he shifted around, yanking his boots and clothes off in a flurry that contradicted his slow, teasing approach from moments before. “I can’t do foreplay right now, princess.”

Billy flushed at the admittance, tossing his last piece of clothing to the floor and grabbing Steve’s thighs. He hauled Steve up the bed and situated himself so that he was hovering over him, lining up and looking at him in askance.

“Don’t need it,” Steve whispered, grabbing Billy’s pendant where it was dangling in his face. “Need you in me right now.”

Nodding, Billy lined up and pushed in tenderly. His face was red, veins popping as he tried to hold himself back.

Steve didn’t want him to hold back. It’d been months. Steve wanted the raw, desperate, reconciliation sex they always had. The kind that made his toes curl.

“Give it to me, cowboy,” Steve demanded, tangling his free hand in Billy’s curls.

“Christ, princess,” Billy moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed himself to fuck into Steve fully. “You got me so fucking pussy whipped.”

It was a gross statement, practically a line if he really thought about it. The way Billy had said it, like a confession had Steve feeling split open and unmoored.

“Yeah?” Steve checked, running his fingers through Billy’s curls.

“Yeah,” Billy croaked, eyes opening to gaze down at Steve.

Steve nodded to show he was ready and wailed as Billy started to fuck into him without abandon. He had to drop his grip on Billy’s necklace for fear of ripping it from his neck with how forceful his thrusts were.

It was the same, toe-curling, eye rolling rhythm they always had but something was missing and Steve couldn’t put his finger on it.

He didn’t have long to consider it as Billy angled his hips down so that he was brushing roughly against Steve’s prostate with each quick thrust. Steve looked up to gauge how close his head was to hitting the wall when he saw it.

“No hat?” Steve gasped, his voice nearly breaking, making Billy freeze as he gaped down at Steve.

It was silly, but Billy always wore his hat when they met up at the bars afterwards and Steve was feeling a little off kilter due to its absence. Billy’s surprised expression slowly melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Is that what does it for you?” Billy asked as he grabbed the black Stetson off its hook above the head of the bed.

He plopped it on top of his dirty, sweaty curls before quirking a teasing eyebrow at Steve.

“Shut up and fuck me, cowboy,” Steve mumbled, face flushing as he squeezed Billy’s hips with his thighs.

“As you wish, princess,” Billy agreed, before fucking into Steve so hard that he jolted up the bed.

Steve moaned, hand flying up to brace against the wall so that his head didn’t slam into it. He grinned up at Billy, hiking his legs higher on his waist to allow Billy to deepen the angle.

It was like a lightning storm every time they came together and Steve was helpless but to give in. It only got more overwhelming as Billy started running his mouth.

“We’re gonna go the bar after this,” Billy promised, breathless with exertion as he continued to fuck into Steve at a ridiculous pace.

“My cum’s gonna be dripping from your pussy when you bend over the pool table like a slut.”

Steve whimpered as he imagined it. Feeling Billy’s cum slide out of him as they hung out with their friends.

“Everyone always wants a piece of you,” Billy grunted, hands twisting in the sheets on either side of Steve’s head. “But everyone will know you’re my bunny.”

The crackling electricity of arousal hummed insistently in Steve’s belly.

“How?” Steve asked through stuttering breaths as Billy’s hips snapped into his at an unparalleled pace.

“Gonna put my necklace on you,” Billy panted, mouth dropping wide and tongue wetting his bottom lip as he struggled to keep his insane rhythm while coming down from the adrenaline rush.

Steve’s hand flew back up to the necklace in question, tightening up reflexively around Billy.

“Shit,” Billy choked out, eyes screwing shut as he trembled above Steve. “Pussy’s so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, wrapping a hand around himself, orgasm buzzing close at seeing just how overwhelmed Billy was.

“Yeah,” Billy breathed, letting his eyes open so he could look at Steve again. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Show me how pretty I am,” Steve demanded softly, muscles tensing as his fingers and toes tingled. “Cum in my pussy.”

“Gonna fill you up,” Billy promised gruffly, rhythm growing sloppy. “Make you mine.”

Whimpering, Steve started stroking himself faster as he practically vibrated out of his skin.

“Come on, cowboy,” Steve urged, screwing up purposefully tight. “Show me who I belong to.”

“Belong to me,” Billy groaned, fucking into Steve impossibly harder, hand flying up to cradle Steve’s head so he didn’t hit it against the wall. “My princess.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, vision blurring around the edges as his toes curled against Billy’s back, shocks of arousal sparking through his veins dangerously.

“Only one who gets to fuck this pussy,” Billy grunted, trembling above Steve as his eyes widened and his breath started to stutter.

“Only one,” Steve promised, voice going high as Billy fucked into him just right. “Give it to me.”

“Oh fuck,” Billy groaned before his breath caught.

Steve watched his muscles strain as Billy shook above him and Steve felt a shock of warmth spill inside of him.

Moaning loud and obscene, Steve gave in to the lightning bolting up his spine and through his limbs as he came all over his belly in strong bursts. The sensation of Billy’s thrusts getting sloppier and wetter had him clenching reflexively causing them both to whine.

Billy fucked him through the aftershocks of their orgasms as Steve’s muscles went limp and Billy’s breathing caught up. He slowed his thrusts to gentle rocks and Steve released Billy’s pendant and grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a kiss.

Obliging easily, Billy slipped his tongue past Steve’s lips and let himself explore as he trailed callus rough fingertips up and down Steve’s thigh. Steve let himself relax into it fully, sinking against the mattress.

He hummed as Billy pulled back just enough to look at Steve’s face. His fiery gaze burned through Steve despite how gentle it was. Steve would never get enough of it.

Steve whined softly as Billy pulled away further, but settled as Billy fiddled with his necklace. Steve lifted his neck so that Billy could close the clasp and fell back against the bed once it was in place against his chest.

Billy stroked an exploratory finger over the pendant where it rested against Steve’s chest before pressing his weight down on Steve once again.

“Join me on the circuit,” Billy whispered, tilting Steve’s face so that he was staring directly into Billy’s fiery blue eyes.

“Billy,” Steve protested, eyes fluttering closed as he fought the itch in his nose that signaled oncoming tears.

They went over this every time. It broke Steve’s heart more and more each time. He didn’t know how Billy could stand it.

“Not now,” Billy amended, nudging their noses together. “In a couple of months when you graduate.”

Steve sighed and let his eyes flutter close. He’d be officially done with college in just a few short months. He’d be expected to start working for his father in just a few short months so he could take over the company eventually.

Could Steve survive eight or more years of only seeing Billy for a handful of days each year?

He opened his eyes to stare up into Billy’s, the absolute certainty and love reflected back at him making the decision for him.

“Okay,” Steve relented, grinning softly at the pure, unadulterated joy that spread across Billy’s face.

Billy whooped, grabbing Steve’s waist and rolling them over so that Steve was straddling his waist. Billy took his hat off, plopping it on Steve’s head and smiling so wide it had to have hurt his cheeks.

“The boys are gonna be so jealous when they find out I locked down the prettiest buckle bunny on the circuit,” Billy gloated, eyes glimmering with unbridled glee.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to call me a buckle bunny if we’re actually together,” Steve scoffed, smacking Billy’s shoulder.

“I can if you keep hanging off my fence, looking the way you do, watching me win all those buckles,” Billy teased, biting his tongue when Steve pinched his side.

Rolling his eyes, Steve readjusted the Stetson on his head and Billy’s gaze went molten.

“Looks good on you, princess,” Billy whispered, callused hands running up Steve’s thighs.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, rolling his hips back against Billy’s twitching dick.

“Mmhmm,” Billy hummed, grabbing Steve’s hips and holding him in place as he grinded up against his ass. “Think you should wear it while you ride me.”

Steve gasped as Billy’s cock settled between his cheeks, their rhythm growing harder and more frenzied.

“Think I’ll last all eight seconds?” Steve teased, whining as the head of Billy’s dick caught on his rim.

“Only one way to find out,” Billy challenged, guiding himself back into Steve and sliding home.

Steve made it significantly longer than eight seconds and left Billy wheezing about how Steve should upgrade from being a buckle bunny to a bull rider.

Please look forward to the lovely, wonderful, and amazing work from the next contributor, @imsodishy.

[wildemaven]

meant to be | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> wc: 1645

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; domestic javi, established relationship, unprotected p in v, fluff, talks of starting a family, reader has zero descriptive features

-> a/n: this was posted on my other account and i am moving it here now. it is also a rewrite of an older fic i did with frankie.

masterlist

Fall is settling in nicely in Texas. The days are still warm, but the weekends no longer hold as much daylight as they did weeks ago. 

Everything transitioning into its autumnal journey, your yard drenched in rustic hues and sunshine. 

You and Javier both loved taking advantage of the nicer weather, wanting to soak up as much of it as possible before the shift into a colder season, deciding to spend your evenings on the patio as the days wound down and the sun set behind the pasture on the west side of the ranch.  

Chores were the first thing that needed to be tackled. Divide and conquer seemed to work well for you both. You took on the inside duties of laundry, dusting, and food prep, while Javier managed the outside— mowing, tree trimming, truck washing. 

Bed made with clean sheets, a load of dirty clothes placed into the washer– the previous load hung in the backyard on the clothesline, dinner prepared and waiting– your list of to-do’s dwindling as the day went on. Now you find yourself planted at the sink of dirty dishes, your kitchen window a front row seat to the old barn, your eyes glued on your husband as he washes his truck. 

His striped sky blue shirt encapsulates every detail of his back, sleeves tight around the bulk of his arms, muscles flexing as he scrubs the soapy sponge back and forth across the metal surface– and you thank whoever designed his well-fitted jeans.  A week's worth of dirt slowly slid off the sides of the old ranch truck, a prized possession that had been passed down from Chucho when Javier had decided to take on more responsibilities around the ranch. 

It has been two years since moving into the home Javier grew up in, wanting something big with the hopes of starting a family in the future. Chucho insisted you both move in, stating the house was far too big for just him— he moved into the ranch’s guest house down the dirt road. Memories tucked to every corner of the house, old family photos still hanging in the very spot his Mama placed them.

Javier must sense he’s being watched when he turns towards the kitchen window, catching your eyes on him. His gaze lingers a bit, soap and water dripping from the sponge in his large hand. He shoots you a wink with a smile that makes you instantly weak. 

“Shit!” The mug you had been washing slips from your soapy hands into the water below, water splashing back at you, soaking the thin material of your dress, your attention drawn back to the sink and the remaining dishes. Somehow Javier still makes you flustered after all these years with just a simple look thrown your way. 

Glancing back out the window again to find Javier is no longer there, the suds freely dripping off the truck door and sponge discarded on the ground. The creak of the screen door lets you know exactly where your husband is as you proceed to dry the drinking glasses and place them in the cupboard. His shuffling around in the living room does little to help you know what he’s up to. 

“Javi?” You call out to him as you finish putting away the last of the plates and bowls, wiping the counter off before you go in search of your husband. 

The slight crackle of a record starting makes you aware of his location– the living room. His old collection of records and record player had been boxed away in the attic after he moved away. Last Spring, while you were putting away the winter blankets, you stumbled upon his music collection– something from nearly every genre. You pulled everything down one weekend while he was busy in town with Chucho, having everything set up on the bookcase and a record going when he got home. It became a habit that one of you would slip on a new record, windows open allowing the breeze to carry the songs throughout the house. 

A familiar tune begins, it instantly brings a smile to your face.

“Wise men say...”

The low timber of his voice sends a tingle down your spine any time he sings your wedding song. For such a reserved man, who refuses to indulge in karaoke, he jumps at any chance to serenade you within the walls of your home— one of the many things you love about him.

A set of arms wrap around you, welcoming you back from your walk down memory lane, pulling you against his chest as he begins to move about the kitchen with you. Your bodies swaying together as the music continues, his face nuzzled in close to your cheek as he hums along with the song.

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be…”

Your body leans into him, the rest of the chores fully abandoned as you both waver about the kitchen, savoring how easy it is to create new memories in your home.

“You sure know how to get out of chores Peña.” You tell him just as he spins you around so you’re facing him, looping your arms around his neck while his hands settle on your back— Javier singing along completely ignoring your comment. 

“If I’m not mistaken Querida, I’m pretty sure you were hardly putting an effort into yours.” He teases you before grabbing your hand to send you twirling around. You can’t contain your laughter, living for these spontaneous moments of ease with the man you’re so completely head over heels for. Your body is pulled back into his, resuming the energetic flow between the two of you. A sweet rhythm of bliss now strumming through your body as you melt into his arms. 

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Hiding your smirk into his warm neck, knowing full well what he’s referring to. 

“That wasn’t you gawking at me through the window—“

“I was not gawking, Javi!” As you playfully pat his chest. “I was just admiring the view.” 

“You were in fact gawking. I think I clocked you at 10 minutes from the first moment I noticed you hadn’t moved.”

“You are so exaggerating!” He’s definitely not wrong though, it’s hard to pull your eyes away from such a thing of beauty. 

“How about we take this to the bedroom, Querida– and I’ll show you exaggeration!” He taunts into your ear. 

 “Javier! Your truck is half washed in the driveway— and I know you’re going to be pissed about the soap drying on it right now. Plus, I already made the bed.” 

He’s dragging you back towards the stairs that lead to the bedroom, his infectious smirk displayed across his stupid handsome face, your body doing little to stop itself from his magnetic pull. 

“I’ll just wash it again. I’ll even set a chair up for you to admire up close. Get you one of those ice cold beers too.” He says as he falls back into the bed, pulling your body on top of his. 

“And I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last time we dirty these sheets this weekend…” His voice muffled against your neck, his lips planting kiss after kiss as he pleads his case– you easily succumb to his antics.

His hands work at the line of buttons that trail down the front of your dress, your own undoing his buckle before working at the button and zipper of his jeans– he hisses as your hands hastily move over bugle straining behind his jeans. 

Your dress is open and hanging off your shoulders as you slowly sink down on Javier’s cock, the stretch of him a welcomed adjustment, his length hitting something delicious as you settle at the base of him. 

“Fuck, Javi!!” Hands splayed over Javier’s firm chest for support, your head thrown back as a rapturous whine pours out into the room, a slight bounce to your breasts as you move— the cups of your bra pulled down, the cool air has your nipples pebbled and tight. Javier is taken by your angelic state— you're a sight to be seen. 

Javier’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs, the slow stuttering roll of your hips as you move over his cock has him worked up faster than he has anticipated. 

“Querida— Shit! Baby, I’m not gonna last— you look so good riding my cock like that!” His hips bucking up at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him. 

“I’m right there with you, Amor!” 

A few swipes over your throbbing clit and a string of quick thrusts, both of you cresting the euphoric peak in unison. 

You collapse on top of Javier, a strong arm wraps around your waist, a hand cupping your neck, Javier determined to keep you as close as possible— you fully melting into his touch. 

Breathing ragged and hearts racing— bodies perfectly satiated and filled with an intense love for each other. 

“I should probably get up and get dinner started. That should be plenty of time for you to rewash the truck.” You don’t show any signs of actually doing so, too relaxed to care about finishing the rest of your chores. 

“Or— we can just lay here a little longer. Save the food and truck washing for tomorrow. We can go into town later and get dinner instead.”

“A man after my heart. I’d marry you if I wasn’t already.” He rolls you off him onto your back, hands roaming over your dewy skin as he kisses you slowly. 

The lull of the record player echoes through the house as the music fades out, clothes and sheets are thrown about the bedroom, the day’s plans forgotten as you both seek out a more exhilarating afternoon. 

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Sweet Tooth

Author’s Note: Hope you’re hungry for a third helping of Somethin’ Sweet! This one’s my favorite so far, so let me know what you think. Don’t worry, the next one’s gonna bring the heat, so stay tuned. Enjoy! ❤️

Summary: Summertime in Texas isn’t for the faint of heart, but neither is Merrin. AKA: Sy needs a cold shower.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC 

Warnings: Adult language and suggestive situations. Two idiots in love.  I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

Merrin was melting. Sure, maybe some of it was more figurative than physical, but as a transplant from Coroado fighting to make it through her first Texan summer, she was almost positively dying. She learned quickly that, around here, air conditioning wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity. The humidity rivaled even the most expensive conditioner in her arsenal, so leaving her hair down was out of the question. Her thighs stuck to every pickup truck bench seat, every plastic lawn chair, and every diner booth they came into contact with. She’d gotten pretty good at the ole peel-and-shimmy to wiggle her way out again, but there’s just no graceful way to do that on date night. Underboob sweat. Ass sweat. Eyebrow sweat? She didn’t even know that was a thing, until now. At work, she hid in the walk-in freezer as often as she could, and cussed every time the front door chimed with each new patron that walked in. 

Right on cue, when those stupid little bells rang again, Merrin sighed. She imagined ripping them down from their place above the door and pitching them clear out into the middle of the street, but only for a moment. “Gotta pay the bills,” she reminded herself, and closed the heavy door behind her again. Daydreaming in the ice vault would have to wait. 

Afternoons in the bakery were always slow. Stealing a quick glance at her reflection in the glass on the front of the oven, she dusted off the front of her apron and pushed through the swinging doors to get behind the counter. “Hello! How can I– Well, shit.”  

His laugh came from somewhere deep in his gut as he leaned against the bar beside the bakecase. 

“Well hello to you too, darlin’. Expectin’ somebody else? Must’a been waitin’ on yer other boyfriend, huh.” 

Sy crossed one ankle over the other and smiled. It was rare for him to get a day off, so today was a nice change of pace. The only problem was that he just couldn’t sit still. The yard needed mowing, the old fence at the edge of the property line needed mending, and the tree that had fallen on it needed split. By lunch time, he couldn’t bear to stay away any longer. After a quick shower and a shave (just a trim. Gotta keep his woman’s seat warm, ya know), he made his way to her. That cocky son of a bitch knew exactly what power he held over her, coming in here looking like that, and he played it to his advantage every single time. Damn him.

Merrin rolled her eyes at him and laughed. Clayton’s always been nothing but trouble, yet he seemed especially mischievous this afternoon. The poor bastard never did have a very good poker face. 

“You’re not my boyfriend, Sy. You haven’t even been a boy in a very long time.” 

If the saying goes “not to toot his own horn,” Clayton Syverson had a train whistle. Back in the day, his reputation with the ladies preceded him. Sy was just as perplexed as he was fascinated by Merrin. He’d never met a woman quite like her. She had a good head on her shoulders, and the kindest heart he’d ever seen. Nobody was a stranger for long, at least in her eyes. So fuckin’ smart, smarter than he’d ever be, with both book smarts and common sense to boot. Effortlessly funny in a way that almost made him jealous. Soft in all the right places, both physically and emotionally. Feminine, yet not too delicate. And that body. Jesus Christ. The things he’d do to her, if ever given the chance…

But that’s the thing about Merrin. She knew it just as well as he did. From the moment they met, she’d been keeping him at arm’s length. Sure, the attraction was there, as was the chemistry. Sy’s a fuckin’ dreamboat, and she’d have to be blind not to see that. Merrin’s not afraid of much, but the uncertainty of where he’ll be in just two month’s time…She wasn’t sure if she could cope with that. So instead of opening herself up to him, instead of giving in and just enjoying what time they did have together, Merrin had decided that they could just be friends. Just friends. That was reasonable enough to ask, wasn’t it?  Men and women could be just friends, and only friends…couldn’t they? According to Sy, it seemed that just wasn’t the case. Maybe it was unfounded optimism, or just plain stupidity. Maybe it was just that he wouldn’t hear it. Either way, Sy wasn’t ready to give up on her yet. What she hadn’t anticipated, though, was just how ridiculously stubborn Sy could be. Stubborn as a fuckin’ mule, and Merrin was the one stuck shoveling shit. 

“Boyfriend? Did I say boyfriend? I’m sorry, sugar. What I meant to say was boy-friend. Ya know…a friend that’s a boy.” Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he gave her a playful wink. “A man-friend, if ya’d like.”

“You’re full of it today, aren’t ya, Big Guy?”

She saw it as clear as day, the way her words got the wheels turning behind that darkening gaze of his. No, but you could be. How dare he, the sinful fuck. The thought of being full of something made Merrin’s face burn a bright shade of embarrassed pink, and she turned quickly to distract herself by pretending to fold takeout boxes instead. “What do you want, Sy?”

“Well, see’s as yer not too busy, I was hopin’ ta steal ya away fer a bit. Got somethin’ ta show ya.” Sy looked down at his nailbeds as he spoke and picked at his cuticles. When he met her eyes again, he grinned. “That’s the thing ��bout bein’ yer own boss, right? Get ta’ make yer own hours.” 

It was a tempting thought, closing up shop and disappearing for a little while. She hadn’t seen a customer in the last two hours, so…what’s the hurt in closing a little early? He had her wrapped around his finger, and she knew it. Defeated, she sighed and shelved the rest of the boxes. 

“Alright. Let me go close up in the back, and I’ll meet you ‘round front.” 

Sy felt victorious, as he watched her loosen the tie from around her waist and hung the apron on a hook by the door. Excited fingers drummed on the countertop in a quick victory dance. He smiled and fished the keys from the pocket of his jeans. “You got it, doll. Take yer time.” 

__

They rode together in the pickup with the windows rolled down, letting the radio compete with the roar of the wind as paved highway turned into an old gravel road. Merrin hadn’t made it out quite this far before, so she had no clue as to where he was taking her. Could’ve been to some of his old stomping grounds. Could’ve been out to the woods to hide her body, never to be found again. There was no way to tell the difference. Gravel let way for a dirt path a little further down the road, and soon enough, Sy was pulling off down a hill and into a grass lot filled with cars. He parked in an empty spot between two other trucks and turned off the ignition. Live music echoed down through the open field, as did the sounds of laughter and jovial excitement.

“I didn’t know the fair was in town!” 

Merrin felt lighter than air. She hadn’t been to a carnival since she was a kid. The smells of deep-fried-everything wafted in through her window and made her stomach growl. If there was one thing that Texas was good at, it was food. Sy cracked a smile and grabbed his wallet from the dash, stuffing it away into the back pocket of his faded Wranglers for safe keeping. 

“Tonight’s on me, babydoll. Whatever ya want, alright?” 

He hopped out of the truck and came around to the other side to help her down again. Merrin landed on her feet with a soft little grunt. She wasn’t quite built to climb in and out of that beast with grace. Dusting away a spattering of flour from her tight jeans, she almost wished she’d had the chance to go home and change. She did her best with what she had, all hulled up in the bathroom in the back of the shop, huddled over a hand mirror with a hairbrush and some mascara from the bottom of her purse. The thought made her shake her head. Jesus, Mer. It’s not a date. Right?

__

Sy led her through the maze of vehicles and off to the ticket booth.  Merrin wasn’t much for roller coasters or anything too steep, so they settled for the bumper cars and some carnival games instead. When he got tired of her kicking his ass, which was really just him letting her win, it was time to eat. Everything looked so good, and there was plenty to choose from, so they each got a little bit of it all to share. Sitting across from one another at an empty picnic table, Merrin groaned as she took a bite from a barbecued rib. When she looked up from her plate, Sy had stopped altogether. His mouth hung open just a bit and his eyes were wide. It made her giggle and blush, and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she chewed. “What? Is there something on my face?” 

Sy grinned as he sat back to watch her. He felt a little silly, bein’ so jealous of a piece of meat. He’d do anything to make her eyes roll to the back of her head like that. Down, boy, he scolded himself. Don’t wanna spook her. Merrin read him like a book, shook her head and scoffed in distaste. She punctuated it with a kick to the shin from beneath the table. “Perv.”

He gasped, feigning surprise, and sat up a little straighter. The napkin that was tucked so carefully into the collar of his t-shirt fell into his lap. “What was that for?!” Sy wiped his hands down the front of his pants and sucked his teeth at her. “Ain’t no way ta’ be treatin’ the man who bought you those ribs.” 

“Is that so?” Merrin arched a perfect brow and accepted his jest as a challenge. If he wanted to be a pain in the ass about it, then so be it. Two could play at that game. She let her eyes flutter closed and let another soft little moan of pleasure escape from deep within. Licking her parted lips, Merrin groaned as she took another bite. She laid it on thick, writhing around in her seat as she polished off the rest of the meat from the bone, then licked her fingers clean, one by one. By the time she was finished putting on a show, she looked up at him again and chuckled. His face was beet red, from the tops of his ears and clear down his neck. A vein stuck out at his temple. He was fighting for his life, and she grinned as she watched him squirm. “Thank you, baby. They were great.”

Sy groaned lowly. He let out a deep breath as he decompressed, ragged and strained. If that’s how she acted over some smoked meat, he couldn’t wait to watch her unravel over some homemade brisket, some cheap wine, and a good, hard dicking. Until then, he’s a dead man walking.

“Lord have mercy.”

__

The horizon was painted in shades of pink and orange as the last few rays of light shone against the clouds. A cool breeze blew through the lowlands of the fairgrounds and sent the heat of the day dissipating along with the sun. Merrin and Sy sat on the tailgate of the tuck and watched as the fireflies dipped and danced through the treeline. Merrin let her feet swing freely from where they hung off of the end of the bed, humming softly to the band as they played. Sy was stretched out behind her, belly full and eyes getting heavy as he reclined back to rest against his elbows. Though she couldn’t see him, Merrin could feel the way his gaze lingered on her. Nice and slow, as if to memorize every curve and curl, every thread in her work shirt and every seam in her jeans. Goosebumps spread down her arms and a chill ran down her spine. Every nerve in her body was ablaze for him, until she just couldn’t take it anymore. There was no turning back now. She was too far gone.

“Damnit, Clay.”

In an instant, she was on him, grabbing a fistful of that faded Metallica shirt and tugging him into her. Sy let out a grunt of surprise, but quickly fell into line. He tasted sweet, like the banana split they’d shared just moments before, like the sticky chocolate syrup and whipped cream, but with a hint of something deeper. Something strong and addictive. Something that had her coming back for more. She wanted to savor this moment, to bottle it up, save it for a rainy day, but she just couldn’t make herself stop. She kissed him, and he kissed her, and she kissed him again until the burn for breath broke their embrace. 

Her hands trembled when she finally let him go, chest heaving and achy as she fought for each breath of fresh air. That’s when she saw it. That beautiful little speckle of brown hidden amongst the ocean of blue in his eye. Merrin couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. Visions of little curly headed babies running around in the yard raced through her mind. They’d have her nose, her lips and sweet little smile, but it was their eyes that had her attention. They were as deep and as vast as the eastern Texas sky, each with their own constellations of honey brown mixed in. They were perfect in every way. They were his. 

Merrin cleared her throat before she spoke again. “White flag. I surrender.” She could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest beneath her, as he reached up to sweep away a loose strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. 

“Oh, darlin,” Sy smirked. “You never stood a chance.”

__

Taglist: please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@geralts-yenn @peyton-warren @kingliam2019 @uunotheangel @deandoesthingstome @drewharrisonwriter @foxyjwls007 @melissareadsstuff @totalwool @summersong69 @caramariehurst @niallhorwen @warriormirkwood @summersong69 @mairablue @omgkatinka @evansabove1981

[jillsandwhichs]

Our Future Day's

Joel Miller x Reader series, Chap 2, A helping hand

Masterlist

Pairing: Fem!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Joel helps you set up new furniture in your new home

WC: 4.4k

Type: Sfw

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

Waking up bright and early, you felt your dog, Becker, licking the hell out of your face. He most likely had to go potty. "Jesus buddy, let mama wake up." You giggled, scratching his fur. He was also just very energetic. You could see the sun shining through the windows of your new home, it was most likely eight to nine in the morning, the usual time for Becker to go pee and poop. Although, back at your family home, there was a doggy door so you never needed to be awake.

"Hold on baby." You mumbled to him, rubbing your eyes carefully, allowing them to adjust. It wasn't too hard to fall asleep last night, which was a miracle. If anything, the air mattress was most uncomfortable. You assume you'll either get your other furniture today or tomorrow, which will be Heaven on Earth! Becker continued to be a rowdy pup, running through the house and chasing a ruckus. "Alright, alright." You sighed, getting up out of the bed.

Your back was killing you but it was nothing you haven't felt before. You quickly folded up the blanket on the bed before setting it on the end neatly, although you presume Becker will later untidy it, he's a crazy boy. "Gotta go potty?" You taunted him, patting on your thighs. He stuck his tounge out and ran to the front door, pawing at it. You giggled, strolling up to the door and opening it up for him, watching as he bolted into the front yard.

Before going out with him, you grabbed your cardigan off of the hanger, putting it on briskly. The fresh morning air felt good, it smelt like rain outside. You could tell the grass was wet too, maybe it sprinkled throughout the night. Becker made his way behind the brown fence, cocking his leg up and going pee, you didn't watch though, that was weird. Instead, your eyes darted over to Joel's house. That same black truck was still in the driveway, maybe he works later? Or maybe not at all?

There were no lights on in his home. You were also still curious as to who that other person in his home last night was. Definitely could not have been his brother, it was a woman. They had a decently smaller frame and were very short. At least 5'1, if not shorter. It doesn't even matter to you, it shouldn't, you have no right to butt into his business. You're just inquisitive...

Becker ran back over to you, licking your hand as it rested at your side. "Oh what boy?" You snickered, petting the top of his head before he then bolted back off into the sideline of the yard, rolling in the damp grass. "Becker..." You sighed out, also not being able to contain your laughter. You could really go for some caffeine right now, especially with how your back is feeling. If you're going to have to move furniture today, you'll most definitely need the extra boost of energy.

You still didn't know your way around the city. It was massive. Compared to your small, average, boring town in Oregon, this was like Los Angeles. You'd never want to live there though, absolutely not. Dallas wasn't even your first choice. The job offer just wasn't something to scoff at. You were grateful for the opportunity. Originally, either Washington or Arizona were where you wanted to live. But Texas was last on your list, especially specifically Dallas.

Your phone was still inside of the house, charging on the kitchen counter. You'd need it for the GPS in order to find a local nearby coffee shop.

Whistling, you called for Becker to come back into the house. You were contemplating on whether or not you'd bring him with you to get coffee. You'd probably have to, he'd lose his mind being left all alone in an empty unfamiliar house. You didn't mind, he was just so energetic in the mornings. He slipped right past you and through the front door, running around and sniffing areas he hasn't gotten to yet. You giggled silently as you snatched your phone, checking the time. It was 9:25 in the morning, it felt good to wake up at a good time like this.

The phone was also on 100% which was a big plus, the last thing you wanted to deal with today was your charger bugging out. Your data was finicky as it was, barley having service out here which made no sense. Nonetheless, you opened up Safari and searched for nearby café's. There was one not even five minutes away, it was perfect and it was already open. You'll probably get some food while you're out too, Becker will be fine on that, he has some treats in the car.

You tied your cardigan up, setting your phone in the pocket of it as you put your slippers on. You weren't going to get all dressed up just to get some coffee and breakfast, there was no point. "Becker, wanna go for a ride?" You spoke in a high pitched voice. Becker began to pant as he ran over to you, jumping all around. "Let's go boy." You whispered, petting his soft head as you opened the front door, using your car keys to unlock the front & back seat.

As you opened up the backseat, you patted it twice, alerting Becker to jump in, which he did. He made himself comfy on the array of seats. You presume he was quite hungry, you grabbed out two treats and fed them to him. "Don't worry boy, your food may come in today." You said softly to him, kissing his furry side before shutting the car door gently, he doesn't particularly enjoy loud noises.

You climbed into the front seat and stuck your key into the ignition, hearing the affirming sound of your vehicle starting. "Good." You muttered to yourself. Your car doesn't even have any reoccurring problems, it's just an unwanted fear of it breaking down that bothers you. You could hear a song playing on the radio, instantly, you turned it up, enjoying some new noise after sleeping in an utterly silent house... Besides Becker's snoring, that is...

Pulling out of your driveway, you looked to your right towards Joel's house and seen his front door open. You didn't immediately drive off. You watched as he and his brother walked out, clearly ready for the day. Joel glanced up from his stance, seeing you in your truck. His face formed a slight smile as he caught a glimpse of your face. You smiled back, putting your hand up to give him a small wave, which he kindly returned. After that, you drove off, not wanting to make it awkward.

Joel seemed like a kind man. He was willing to help you out, which was a pro. The men back home were similar, it's always made you feel secure. Then again, you can handle yourself well. You moved all the way to Texas with little to no help. The only man by your side was, well, Becker! Best boy any woman could ever ask for!

Driving off, the roads in the suburbs weren't all that busy, in fact, most of them were empty. It's just that the main roads were going to be hell. At least it wasn't even earlier or lunch hour yet, then you'd probably have to take back roads but those would be full of people too. It's just a major change compared to how traffic was back home. Maybe in a way, it was nice? It felt more realistic. More alive in a sense. Becker surely likes it, he loves any & all attention.

"Okay then..." You murmured to yourself, setting up the GPS through your phone. On the screen, the text read it was about six minutes away, it was great. Having a café this close was excellent, you'd definitely use it to your advantage. Every morning, before work, stopping by for some coffee & a bagel sounded like a wonderful idea. You just hope the prices aren't insane. Inflation is a bitch.

"Want some better tunes boy?" You shouted out to Becker with a giggle, changing the station to where a lot of calming, unwinding & serene songs played. Felt like it fit the mood. You also rolled down Becker's window for him, he loves sticking his head out and being obnoxious.

As you turned left, you got onto the main roads. A ton of small owned businesses and shops flooded the area and not only that, within the distance, large & tall skyscrapers towered over the massive city. "Holy shit." You whispered to yourself. This is where you'll be living and it feels extraordinary. If you recall, the tallest building back home was a damn courthouse and even then, it doesn't even compare to these establishments. It was a big change from home, that's for sure.

You spotted some spots you'd definitely wanna check out soon. A boba shop, a retailer, a chinese place and more. There weren't places like this back home, at least no where near your town. "Becker, we're almost there." You assured him, you could hear how quiet he had gotten. He was hungry but you'd just want to wait til the truck comes in, hopefully today, if not, it was really going to be shitty for not only Becker, but you too.

The GPS now said four minutes away but it felt closer than that. The main roads were filled but not to the brim. It was because a lot of people were at work or doing something for the day, it was Saturday after all. At your upcoming job, you won't have to work weekends which was a life saver. It'd be good to give you and Becker time together and time to set up your house. You couldn't wait to see how it will look once it's completely decorated.

Randomly, the thought of Joel came back into your head. For some reason, he was unforgettable. The way he spoke to you was unlike anyone you'd ever met before. You wanted the truck to come by today so he'd help you unload it all like he had offered last night. Imagining him in your house kind of warmed your heart & stomach. You barley knew him and yet, he was on your mind. His brother though? No. Maybe it was because the two of you didn't speak but it was also just because Joel was different. There was a different ring to him.

Minutes later, you pulled into the coffee shops parking lot, noticing there was a drive-thru which was perfect, you really didn't wanna go through the hassle of going in. Not only that, Becker wouldn't be able to come inside and he's a big 'ol whine baby without you. It would also allow you to decide on what you want easier.

You drove through, waiting patiently behind another car. This car had a Florida license plate with flowers around the border of it. "Long ways away from home, huh?" You mumbled to yourself, somewhat projecting. You still need to change your plate to be for Texas rather than Oregon. It's just a tedious process. You'd also have to change Becker's collar to have Texas on it as well, which wouldn't be too bad to deal with. There's just more important stuff to handle right now.

You pulled up, stopping at the mic system and studying the large screen that displayed all the drinks and snacks you could get. "Hi, what can I get for you?" You heard a woman say through the com. "Just one second please." You replied, tapping on your steering wheel. You were just going to get a White Mocha Coffee but you also wanted a snack. They had a lot. Bagels, bread, sandwiches, etc. And everything looked really good.

"Alright, so, I'll get a white mocha coffee and let me get the grilled ham & cheese sandwich." You spoke clearly to the woman. "Okay, in total, that'll be 13.47$ at the first window!" "Thanks." You said softly, pulling up. The sun was officially up. It looked nice in the center of the city, aside from all the people and cars. The buildings, wildlife, nature and atmosphere was all collectively beautiful. Oregon was definitely better compared to the city life but beggars can't be choosers.

As you drove up, the woman whom you were speaking to opened the window and held out your receipt. "Your total was 13.47$, correct?" She asked you with that classic customer service voice. "Yeah, here you go." You beamed, handing her your card. You took the receipt, tossing it into your center console. The woman swiped the card and tapped a few buttons before handing it back to you. "You have yourself an amazing day!" "You too hun." You said nicely to her before she then shut the door.

The next window handed you a bag and a cup. You were practically drooling over how yummy it smelt. "Have a good day." The man spoke, passing you both items. "You too." You nodded, setting the coffee in the cup holder and placing the bag onto your lap. You'd definitely have to share with Becker once you're home. "Onwards and upwards puppy." You giggled before pulling out of the coffee shop. You'll definitely come here again.

-

Hours later, you were sitting out on your front porch, scrolling through Facebook on your phone. You felt a sense of sorrow seeing all the people back home living their lives. You wish you could be there with them, especially your friends. They all mean so much to you and now, you'll rarely see them. Holidays of course and occasional visits but that's about it. It's worrisome, you don't want any of these friendships to fade away. That isn't your intention.

You also miss your family. They're all going on with their lives and it's upsetting to see. You especially miss your cousins, they were your closest members of your family. You don't have any siblings so it was the closest you got to that either. Luckily, your favorite cousin plans to visit you soon. It'll be nice, just to vent to them and hear how the family is doing. You aren't close to much others in it though.

"Becker, c'mon boy!" You shouted for him, wanting him to stop being a trouble maker. You walked towards him and looked up, a huge burst of happiness filled you. It was that truck, the one that had all of your house supplies in. "Yay!" You yelled, grabbing onto Becker's collar, pulling him back carefully into the yard instead of the sidewalk. You were very happy with this outcome. Becker definitely will be too. His dog bed will be a plus for him, no more sharing... Until he jumps into bed anyways.

The truck backed into your small driveway, badly fitting due to how large the vehicle was. It parked quickly and you ran up to the back of the truck, internally screaming. You couldn't wait to set your bed back up. You heard the truck door shut as a slim, tall man emerged from it. "Hey, this for you?" The man asked, showing you the clipboard. You read the name and nodded, "Yes, that's me." You beamed. "Alrighty, everything in here is yours then. I can help you unload if needed, unless you have others to help you." He spoke kindly, hooking the clipboard back.

You took a gander over at Joel's house, he was outside, his brother there too. They looked not busy, why not ask them to help? Joel did offer after all. "One moment." You said in a friendly tone to the man. You ordered Becker to sit and be patient before you then crossed the street. Joel noticed this, his posture forming to be more standard as he looked you up and down. He dropped his cigarette, stepping on it. "Didn't think I'd see you again so soon." His southerness was unforgettable.

Giggling, you set your hands onto your hips. "Me either... Hey, I just have a question though." You said softly, gazing up at him. He chuckled and looked down at you, he was much taller than you. "Anything." "So, that truck in my driveway, it has just about everything I own in it... Would you mind giving me a hand with it? I'll even pay you if needed." You asked with confidence. You don't even know what urged you to come over and feel so free asking him. You feel like he'll say yes, even without pay, honestly.

"Glady." Joel voiced to you, setting his phone in his pocket. "Ya think you'll need both of us or...?" "Just you should work, I don't wanna bother the both of you." You awkwardly chuckled, giving a slight smile to Tommy. Tommy nodded, he didn't seem to really care. "Sounds good to me." Joel expressed, beginning to walk alongside you to the house. Inside, you were screaming and dancing. You don't even understand why either.

"Thank you, I appreciate this. I honestly don't think the driver dude could help." You mumbled beneath your breath. Nothing against him, he just probably does it all day, it gets tiring. Joel gave you a slight laugh, "Yeah, I got it. I don't have these for nothing." Joel teased, referring to his rugged muscles. You blushed before giggling, "I see that." You whisper. Becker ran up to you as you walked into your driveway. "Oh hey there." You spoke to him, kneeling down and kissing the roof of his nose, scratching his head.

"He the only pet ya have?" "Yeah, he's my one and only baby." You vocalized, pulling away from him. "I ain't got any pets, just my daughter." Joel cackled. You were literally shocked when he said that. This man looked way too young to have a daughter. At the same time, this cleared your worries. Was that young woman in the house his kid? "Jesus, no way you have a kid?" You spat out unfiltered. "Sorry, I just didn't think you'd be old enough." You recuperated yourself.

Joel smiled at you, his facial hair scrunching up. "Yeah, had her when I was real young. High school love and having the mindset of a teenager will do that to ya." He admitted, unlocking the back of the truck, pulling it open with his arms, revealing all of what you owned. The way his fibrow arms flexed when he opened it made you feral in silence. He has such a good body. You couldn't help but look at them from time to time.

"I imagine... I never dated in Highschool or College. I just kept to myself." You spoke honestly. It's not that you didn't want to date, you just never had the chance overall. "You don't have to answer but you still with her mom?" Joel didn't reply at first, he just gave you a monotone look before he then hopped into the truck, you did too. "Nah... Her mama isn't a very good woman. I've been done with women for some time now because of her. Sarah is the only girl I need." Joel said with earnest. He was honorable for that. A father putting his children before romance is respectable.

"I totally understand that. That's a good move on your part, father wise." You complimented him. "I try." He chuckled. He didn't seem very open to speaking about her, rightfully so, who'd really talk about their child to a stranger? Joel grabbed ahold of a few large boxes. "Where you want these?" The man asked you, holding all of them with strength. "Oh, inside please, or just wherever is easier, I guess." You rambled, also grabbing a box, you already knew this box was full of Becker's stuff due to him sniffing it and scratching at it.

Joel jumped out of the truck, setting all three boxes in your kitchen, you followed behind him. He scanned the house, whistling at the sight. "Nice, mine looks similar but this is more craftsmen, I like it." He praised your sense of style. "Yeah, me too, it's nice." You snickered. You bent down and opened up Becker's box, grabbing out his favorite chew toy. "Here you go mister." You kissed his head and allowed him to play with it. "You seem like a good dog mom." Joel tittered. "Oh, I try." You said with sarcasm. It was an easy job. Just feed the fattie and baby him, he'll be one happy pup.

The two of you exited the home, Becker staying on the inside now that he had his stuff, he was quite content. Joel double checked the trailer before laughing, it was such a attractive laugh too, super country. "Damn girl, how much stuff do you need?" He teased you. "A lot." You joked. "I'm guessing you'll need help moving this bedframe?" "Most definitely." You sighed, not even wanting to dick with it. "Where's your bedroom at? Upstairs, I assume?" He questioned you. "Yes, like the first door so it shouldn't be to difficult." "Alright." Joel replied, beginning to drag it out for you.

"You're very strong." You muttered, somewhat hoping he wouldn't hear. "This is what being a contractor does to you, darlin." Joel chuckled, lifting the bedframe from one end. The way he called you darling about made you pass out, it was so different, once again, adding onto his character so much. You lost your train of thought. His body glowed in the sunshine. The minor sweat on his forehead and arms was so entrancing. "Hey?" Joel asked you, snapping you out of your head. "You alright?" He gave out a manly southern laugh. "Yes, of course, just the heat is irritating." You lied, grabbing onto the opposite end of the frame.

Until the two of you reached the top of the stairs, you opened your bedroom door, allowing him to fully push it in, placing it down onto the floor. "Want it anywhere specific?" "Just in the center there." You requested. He gently pushed it out, aligning it as well, it was like he read your mind. "Thank you." You said quietly, pulling your hair into a ponytail. You looked over at him whilst doing so, noticing he was staring at you, his eyes were dark and his expression was as if it was focused. You didn't say anything, not wanting to make yourself look stupid.

"We can go grab my bed now? I'll be able to handle the rest of the boxes on my own though." You broke the silence, pulling your hands away from your hair. "You sure? I don't mind helping ya out." "I'm sure." You spoke truthfully, turning out of your bedroom and treading down the staircase, Joel doing the same right behind you. Becker was passed out on the floor, his belly exposed and you couldn't help but snicker, he was so cute.

You stepped outside again and entered the back of the truck. It was still quite full. The couch you had purchased was also there in a clearly hefty box, you weren't excited for that. "If you wanna head home, you can actually, I might be able to handle this mattress on my own." You said, trying not to hold him up. "Don't sweat it, I got it." Joel said with a low & husky voice as he grabbed the end of it. "Y'know, I get the impression you are an independent girl." He chuckled out. You giggled and nodded, "Just how I was raised."

The two of you helped one another slip the mattress into the home and up the fabricated stairs. The sound of Joel's grunts as he moved it upwards were attractive and made you wanna risk everything but you remained silent, of course, you two had only just met. This was just such a new experience for you, that's all. Joel picked up the mattress half way, plopping it down on the frame with a groan, straightening it out too. "I'm guessing you get about 20% of this whereas that dog of yours gets 80%?" You laughed when he said that, but he was correct.

"When Sarah was little, she'd crawl into bed with me and I'd hold her. She stopped doing it as she got older, she's in her early teens now, but I'd kill for it. I have a love-hate relationship with the fact she's gettin older." Joel snickered, rubbing the ridges of his nose. "I bet... I hope someday I can experience that." You tittered, crossing your arms. "You want kids someday?" "Of course I do." You nodded. Joel didn't respond, he just gave you a half smile. "It's a blessing, that's for damn sure." He said hushly. You glimmered at him.

Your guy's eyes locked for a few seconds, your breathing also becoming heavier. He made you feel a type of way you hadn't felt before. It was a welcomed feeling though. Your stomach twisted & turned whenever he was around and you found yourself staring at him any chance you could get. He obviously didn't feel the same but it's whatever, he's not looking for a woman anyways as he stated. A small crush won't hurt, right?

A few minutes later, the two of you were back outside in the Texas warmth, basking in it. There was still a few larger and smaller boxes in the truck but you didn't mind dealing with those alone. You didn't wanna keep him busy for to long. You turned to look at him, his eyes were already down on you. It made you blush because your back was originally faced to him. You shook the thoughts from your head before talking to him.

"Thank you Joel, I'm grateful for your help." You thanked him, crossing your arms. "Course, anything you need, just give me a holler." Joel reminded you, placing his hand on your arm gently. You looked down at it and leered, discreetly biting your lip too. "Will do." You smiled up at him. Joel nodded, pulling his arm away moderately. "I'll see you around." He said softly, giving you a playful wink as he walked off. "See you Joel." You mumbled, watching as he went back to his house.

Now, you just had to deal with all of this hunk a junk. "Here we go." You groaned, hopping into the truck, all alone.

[tgmsunmontue]

Can't buy me love 1/3

Hangster, Explicit, ~16k (complete, posting chapter/day)

(Part of the Top Gun AU Bingo - squares for Ranch, Single parent, Billionaire, and semi power-balance).

MANY BELATED THANKS to @nevergettingoverit for the beta and correcting all my typos and the discussion of the word fossick.

Summary: Jake doesn't need help around the ranch, but he's not going to turn down cheap able-bodied labor either. He's not stupid. The fact that Bradley knows nothing about ranching doesn't exactly help his case, but he's a fast learner.

---------

                Jake had had plans. He’d planned to get out of Texas and away from his family, as loving and supportive as they are… None of his plans had come to fruition.

                None of his plans had included getting his high school girlfriend pregnant.

                None of his plans had included becoming a single parent when his girlfriend then died in a freak accident when their baby was only a few months old.

                None of his plans had included never leaving the state of Texas.

                None of his plans had included studying agriculture, business and keeping up to date with stock bloodlines.

                None of his plans had included raising a young girl in Texas for fifteen years.

                None of his plans had included being single at thirty-three and with no-one he’d consider having something serious with.

                And yet here he is, and while he finds himself lonely in the evenings, he can visit his parents’ house, or any of his siblings. He can go into town and see some of his friends. Find someone to scratch the particular carnal itch he gets sometimes when he isn’t tired from working all day.

                Despite all of that he wouldn’t change his life. Ashley is amazing and delights him every day, even when she swings between terrifying and annoying.

                So his plans had changed, but he’d made new ones and maybe put his dreams on a shelf. He can get them down, dust them off, and look at them later.

…            …            …

                He sees her leading a horse out of the stables, knows it’s not late enough for her to have done all her chores if she also had homework, but she’s already got a horse saddled up for riding.

                “Ashley! You done your homework?” he calls out, jogging a little to reach her so she can’t pretend to not hear him and simply ride off.

                “Ugh. Yes dad, of course I have. I did it in study period. Anyway, I’m just going to grandmas to help in the garden.”

                “Oh, okay. You’re a good girl. Ride carefully.”

                “Always do!”

                He watches until he can’t really make her out, knows she’ll be well in sight of his mom’s kitchen window now, that while she’s between his house and his parents’ place she’s the safest she can be.

…            …            …

                He’s not expecting anyone, so his eyes narrow when he sees the tell-tale cloud of dust indicating a car is headed toward him. It gives him time to wipe his hands, to just place himself in a slightly more defensible spot than out in the wide open space of the yard. A dusty beaten-up truck comes to a slow stop, engine switched off and then a man is getting out, alone and he looks harmless. Jake doesn’t shift, looks can be deceiving.

                “Hello, can I help you?”

                “Hi. The woman, Michelle, at the diner in town, said you might be looking for workers?”

                Jake runs his eyes up and down his body, and he’s in t-shirt and jeans, but clean and tidy, clearly not worn on a ranch doing hard labor.

                “What’s your name?”

                “Bradley Mitchell.”

                “Jake Seresin” Jake offers, holding his hand out. “Ever ridden a horse?”

                “Nope.”

                “Ever roped or dealt with cattle before?”

                “Nope.”

                “Ever stepped foot on a working ranch before today?”

                “Nope.”

                Jake raises an eyebrow and bites back the comment about not expecting a greenhorn that’s his age, especially not one that is wanting to work on a ranch.

                “How about you tell me what skills you do have,” Jake offers, because maybe the guy will surprise him.

                “I have a degree in mechanical engineering. I’m good at fixing things that are broken. I can follow instructions, am able bodied and am keen to learn. And I don’t need paying until you feel I’m worth paying.”

                Jake raises an eyebrow at that, because that’s one hell of a bargaining chip he just put on the table. Not that they’re hurting for money at all, but free labor is still free labor. However it also raises a couple of red flags, because people aren’t usually willing to go unpaid if they have nothing to hide.

                “You got any ID on you?”

                Bradley pulls out a driver’s license, one for California, and it definitely shows his name as Bradley Mitchell. Hmm. So not hiding that at least. And he’s a couple of years older than Jake. The guy in the photo looks healthier than the one standing in front of him, but he’s not going to judge. He rubs at his face, not really sure, because it’s not like they’re in desperate need for help either. But he does need some help, there’s always work to be done and never enough time or hands to do it all. He pulls out his phone and takes a quick photo of both sides of the license before handing it back to him.

                “You’ll get room and board and a small allowance a week, then after a month we can talk a weekly pay rate if you feel like sticking around. Earlier if I think you’re worth it.”

                “Sounds fair,” Bradley agrees easily. Too easily.

                Jake just hums and shows him to the bunkhouse.

…            …            …

                He rings the sheriff and asks her to do a check on a Bradley Mitchell from California, says he’s bringing him on to live on the ranch so just wants to keep his family safe and he knows it’s calling in a favor but he also has Ashley to consider and it still feels like the bare minimum, and he should still ask to do a reference check, but people can lie so easily, can be bought so easily, that he’d rather just watch and make his own judgement call. He sends through the photos he took, knows it’ll probably take a day or two, that she has more important things to do than run a background check, but it’ll happen. Just to be safe he asks his mom to keep Ashley at her place.

…            …            …

                The next morning he heads out to the bunkhouse earlier than usual, not needing to get Ashley to school, which gives him more time. He introduces Bradley to the other three cowhands, explains with a dry expression that Bradley has zero experience so will be shadowing Jake so he can learn some basics. And Jake stresses that he means the basics, which gets a few sniggers from the others but, well, without the ability to ride a horse or deal with cattle he is pretty useless. However there are jobs he can assist Jake with, that free up one of the others, so it does work out. He sends the others out, gives them a list of jobs and they leave with tips of their hats, Mikey giving his shoulder a shove and a muttered good luck under his breath.

                “So, you ever collected eggs before?”

                The look Bradley gives him is dry, like he clearly thinks Jake is an idiot for asking given their conversation the day before and Jake gives him a conceding look, gesture for him to follow him out to the coop.

                “Okay. So you gotta be careful the shell is hardened. Too fresh and the shell will be warm and you picking it up will just crack the entire thing. Okay? If the chickens are still sitting sometimes it’s best to just leave them and come back later. If they’re broody then they won’t move, and some will give you hell if you even try.”

                “Okay. I didn’t understand half of that.”

                Jake laughs and then walks him through it all, actually shows him how to collect the eggs. Decides to leave them all in the bunkhouse kitchen despite it usually being split fifty-fifty with his own house; he doesn’t want to take Bradley there, he is still a stranger.

                He starts doing some of the two-man jobs or tricky ones which just become so much simpler when there is another pair of steady hands. They re-fence all of one side of two paddocks, and he’s pleased to note that Bradley is indeed able bodied and able to follow instructions. He asks for clarification when he doesn’t understand something, rather than assuming or guessing and Jake appreciates it, because it means they’re doing the job once, the right way, the first time. That level of maturity is a benefit then, not afraid to ask questions and appear clueless in the face of new tasks. Jake definitely prefers it over some cocky kid who thinks he knows everything and then fucks up, wasting time and resources.

                Despite his tidy fingernails and soft-looking hands he doesn’t shy away from any of the jobs that Jake has him help with. Seems equally content mucking out the stables as he is using a post-hole augur, makes observations about fence placements, and land features, which tells Jake he’s probably well versed in some theory of land use, if never exposed to the physical and practical side of it. He arranges for Ashley to stay at his parents again and rings Mandy and learns that the check has come back clear, except for one parking ticket in San Francisco. Okay. So not a serial killer. Or at least not that has a trail of bodies attached to him. If there is anything it’ll be white-collar crime, because Jake’s still suspicious as hell.

                He doesn’t think of himself as overly protective, but he is careful. The fact that he’s taken Bradley on with just a simple background check, no references… other than checking he wasn’t a wanted criminal. He doesn’t get bad vibes from him, just… he’s hiding something and Jake’s not going to go prying, because every man is entitled to his privacy. Except he also has a responsibility to keep his child and family safe, so he doesn’t blame himself if he’s a little more watchful of Bradley than he is of his other workers.

…            …            …

                He has to relax his guard eventually though, Ashley getting impatient about getting back to her own bedroom and she gives him the stink eye when she is dropped home by his dad the next evening, her horse in a trailer because it’s after dark and he won’t let her ride when it’s dark. He invites his dad down to the bunkhouse to meet Bradley. His dad has always been a good judge of character and is even tempered, he’d like his opinion. The other cowhands greet his dad with friendly backslaps and greetings, introduce Bradley themselves and Jake just shrugs, excuses himself to go back to the house and check on Ashley and apologize probably.

                He’s right on the money, he does have to apologize and promise she’s allowed a sleepover that coming weekend. He also makes pancakes with fruit for dinner, a more silent apology for being overprotective. He knows she can look after herself, has ensured she knows how to use a gun, some basic self-defense. But he knows he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to her that he could have somehow prevented. All the other workers are men he’s known for over ten years. He went to high school with Mikey. Having someone new, someone he doesn’t know, makes him feel a little uneasy.

                His dad turns up two hours later, wide smile in place and he’s nodding his head, clearly impressed by whatever conversation he’s had with Bradley.

                “Leave him with me, I can show him a few things.”

                “Thanks dad.”

                It will help, if he’s able to get out with the others and drive the cattle, two teams of two working much more effectively, even if Mikey and his dogs work seamlessly as a team all by themselves. His dad worked this ranch for years before Jake took over most of the day-to-day running. He can leave a list of jobs that his dad can do and show Bradley, jobs he wouldn’t generally ask his dad to do now, not with him getting on in years, but he is capable of teaching and knowledgeable in what needs to be done, so getting him to help with Bradley just makes sense.

                The next day goes quickly, working with the others and he wants to keep checking in on his dad, who had collected Bradley that morning. He’s glad Ashley is at school, doesn’t need his attention split three ways rather than focusing on the tasks at hand; two ways is bad enough, but he can’t help it. Not until he knows Bradley Mitchell better and gets a feel of his character. He’s washing up when his dad finds him, Ashley doing her homework at the table.

                “He’s a fast learner. Knows some weird things, but sometimes oddly useful. He came up and looked at my old truck you know, got the engine turning over but said he’d need a couple new parts to get it running properly.”

                “Huh. Okay then,” Jake says, because so far everything is working out. “And what feeling did you get off him?”

                “That he likes to be useful. And that he’s…” his dad lets out a long sigh. “Lonely? No. Isolated maybe? He’s not sad or upset, but there’s something.”

                Jake nods, because yeah, he’d got that feeling too. He’s just not sure what to do about it.

…            …            …

                While Bradley clearly can’t ride a horse or herd cattle he can cook, something the others appreciate when they come back to the bunkroom kitchen in the evening and there is a stew bubbling away with what looks like bread rolls rising in a dish, ready to be slid into the oven.

                “You can cook.”

                “I can. Didn’t think of listing it amongst my skills when I introduced myself.”

                “Well, it’ll endear you to the others a lot more if it tastes as good as it smells. They’ll put up with a lot if they’re getting fed well.”

…            …            …

                “Ashley! Are you wearing makeup?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Where did you get makeup from? When did you get makeup?” Jake asks, and his daughter is sixteen, he knows she isn’t too young for it, but it makes her look so much older and his heart can’t handle this, seeing his little girl, looking so much like her mother, getting ready to leave the house for school.

                “Grandma took me. Plus she took me for some lessons, said what she knew wouldn’t be suitable for my skin tone. Kathryn and PJ are still allowed to come over tomorrow right?”

                “Yeah. Of course,” Jake says, because apology sleepover. Right.

…            …            …

                He finishes for the day and he goes in search of Bradley. His dad had called him, left a message telling him he’d sent Bradley back on a horse of all things, which is a small miracle considering a week ago the man couldn’t ride. But also his dad had suggested that Bradley might need help getting off the horse, so he has to go and check to ensure Bradley isn’t lying somewhere injured. He heads to the stable first and Jake finds him immediately, all in one piece and apparently uninjured, leaning against the fence and watching Ashley ride in the arena doing basic jumps.

                “Afternoon.”

                “Afternoon,” Bradley greets back, but he keeps watching Ashley and Jake tries to not let that bother him. “She’s good…”

                “You can barely tell the front end of a horse from the back, you can’t tell if she’s good or not.”

                “Hmm. Touche. Except your dad’s been giving me riding lessons the last few days. Then this afternoon he said I could ride back here, or walk the horse with a lead. I rode, but I then had to get her help to get off the horse.”

                Jake snorts, he’s glad Ashley was there to help, because he can imagine the damage Bradley could have caused if he’d tried to dismount without help when he’s not used to riding, but he’d been trying to keep them separated.

                “How’s the body holding up?”

                “I have muscles I didn’t even know existed. I think your dad has been limiting it so I don’t become completely useless,” Bradley says with a quiet laugh and Jake would put money on his dad doing exactly that.

                “You’ll get used to it.”

                “So everyone keeps telling me,” Bradley says quietly. “She seems like a good kid. Happy,” Bradley says, and his dad’s words come back to him from a few days ago. Isolated. He wants to dig a little now. Also he wants to head off any questions about how young he is to have a sixteen year old.

                “My god-father has a step-daughter the same age, she reminds me of her…”

                “What’s her name?”

                “Huh? Oh. Amelia. And my god-father is Pete and his wife is Penny… anything else you want to know?”

                “Well, I figure you’re either running or hiding from something. Just don’t want you to bring any trouble to our door…”

                “I feel like I’ve been running my whole life. I guess I’m trying out the staying in one place for a bit…” Bradley says, and his eyes are still on Ashley as she rides around the arena and Jake sucks in a breath, needs to be upfront because he gains nothing by beating around the subject.

                “Well, I’m a little protective, so maybe don’t spend too much time watching her okay? Might give me the wrong idea.”

                Bradley surprises him then by laughing and coughing in an awkward combination that leaves him almost choking, head shaking when Jake offers to slap him on the back.

                “Sorry, sorry… just… no. So many levels of no. She’s a kid. Young enough to be my kid, and also I’m… I’m gay. So I’m not ever going to be, uh, interested, even if she were ten years older…”

                It’s like he’s braced himself for a punch and Jake wonders how many times he’s maybe been hit for just blurting it out like that.

                “Gay people exist in Texas.”

                “Do they? Could have fooled me.”

                “Bisexual people too. You’re fine,” Jake says, looking away, because he doesn’t come-out to many people, let alone strangers he’s known less than a week, even if they miss it as an actual acknowledgement of his own sexuality. However if Bradley hangs around long enough he’ll likely hear about him anyway, he’s definitely a favorite subject of conversation.

                “Okay… good to know thanks. Also I won’t bring any trouble to your door. I’m not in any trouble. The only people looking for me are my family. And I’m not an asshole, they know I’m alive. Just not where I am exactly. I just… need a break. And you’re good to be cautious. You don’t know me.”

                Jake nods, wonders what has maybe happened that he can just walk away from his family, job and life and walk onto a ranch in the middle of nowhere Texas and hide away from the world.

…            …            …

                “You okay baby?” Jake asks, watching as Ashley taps a pen against her bottom lip.

                “Yeah, this calculus is kicking my butt though.”

                “Yeah, I can’t help with that sorry. You want me to see about getting a tutor or something?”

                “No, I’ll ask Mr Mallory and see if he can explain it again. I’ve almost got it, but there’s just like… something I’m missing.”

                “Okay, well you let me know. I’m just going to go and lock up.”

                He heads out to double check the gates, stops by the bunk house and it’s not late by any stretch, he knows the others have headed into town to blow off some steam, which just leaves Bradley Mitchell at the kitchen table, long legs stretched out, reading a book, quietly drinking a cup of something that doesn’t smell like coffee at all. Probably some type of tea.

                “Evening again,” Bradley greets, clearly relaxed and not bothered by Jake suddenly appearing.

                “You said you had a degree in mechanical engineering.”

                “Yeah.”

                “You do calculus?”

                Bradley nods slowly, clearly unsure where Jake is taking this exactly.

                “Ashley is working through some problems, if you have some time over the weekend I’d appreciate it if you could maybe have a look.”

                “Yeah, of course. Got nothing but time. What jobs have you got lined up for me this weekend?”

                “Oh, you don’t have to work weekends.”

                “Jake. I don’t mind. I enjoy it.”

                Jake pauses and then shrugs.

                “You can join me for a few hours. I don’t do as much, like to spend my time with Ashley, riding or doing some catchup on the admin. But you’re right, animals don’t care about days of the week.”

                “Great. I’ll see you after breakfast then.”

                Jake nods, knows a dismissal when he hears one.

…            …            …

                When he gets up the next morning he can see Bradley already out and about, collecting eggs, horses released to pasture. As he watches Bradley stops and tilts his head back, facing the rising sun like he’s soaking it up and he looks calm and at peace, however Jake suspects he is anything but. Nevertheless he does seem to like it here and Jake feels more relaxed about him being around. He has breakfast, leaving Ashley to sleep in because he knows she’s going to have a late night with the sleepover and her friends being here. Also trying to wake her up is a battle he is not picking to have today. He leaves her a note and heads out, mind already on the little odd jobs that he and Bradley can get done.

                The day passes quickly, Bradley helping him pull some of the dead branches down and using the chainsaw to reduce it to moveable and usable pieces for firewood. They move some of the cattle, fix a couple of lines of fence, scrub out some troughs. He’s easy to be around, doesn’t try and fill the silence between them with meaningless chatter and Jake appreciates it, despite his burning curiosity. They head back for lunch and Jake says he’s finished working for the day, but he’ll do some riding that afternoon if Bradley wants the practice. He concedes he definitely needs it.

                They split for lunch and he spends some time with Ashley, talking about school and her upcoming tests. He goes and does the admin, pays bills for feed and veterinarian services, materials and other costs. The accounts are all nice and healthy and in good shape, he’s got nothing to worry about, which is a good thing, he can save all his worry for Ashley and her future. Not that she doesn’t have a significant college fund, her mother’s college fund going to her and her mother’s side of the family all topping it up for years. She’ll have her choice of places.

                Of course when he finds him later he’s sitting side-by-side with Ashley, a textbook held in his hands and he’s pointing at something and talking. Ashley is nodding, scrunches her face in disgust and Bradley laughs, shakes his head, pokes at the book again. Then her face lights up, like she’s suddenly got it and his heart swells and he gets closer, can hear what they’re saying.

                “Thank you so much. I just wasn’t getting it. You explained it way better than Mr Mallory.”

                “What was the issue?” Jake asks.

                “Application of separation of variables,” Bradley states, and Ashley nods and Jake can do nothing but nod and smile, his own calculus at high school so long behind him it’s a hazy memory at best.

                “So much easier to understand now. That’s all my homework done now dad! Which means I can ride until my friends get here.”

                “You still have your chores.”

                “Nope! They’ve already been done. Bradley did them already.”

                “I didn’t realize they were her jobs on the weekends. Ashley, you let me know if you have any more questions. Happy to help.”

                “Thanks Bradley! Tomorrow I can teach you how to get off a horse properly.”

                The look on Bradley’s face is self-deprecating and Jake would tell Ashley off for being rude, but he thinks she legitimately wants to help Bradley with something he can’t do so he just does his best to hide a smile, glad that clearly Bradley doesn’t have an easily bruised ego.

                “Sorry about the whole chores thing, didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

                “It’s fine, I should have told you. Totally slipped my mind to be honest. As long as they get done, I don’t care. She’s a good kid, she still went and checked. Thanks for helping her with the math.”

                “Any time. Was good to do something different with the brain.”

                “You’re welcome to come for dinner. The girls will be making pizza.”

                “Oh, thank you, but I have been to one teenage girl sleepover and I ended up with braided hair, glittery gel nails and a facemask which I am certain is used for torture by the military. Never again.”

                “I bet your skin felt amazing afterwards though,” Jake says, lips twitching in amusement.

                “I can neither confirm nor deny. I will leave you to your evening.”

…            …            …

                Jake’s mom insists on coming to spend the night for the sleepover, like he can’t handle four teenage girls. He’s just going to let them have free reign in the kitchen and hope for the best. However he is glad of his mom’s presence when Angelique is the mom in question to drop the other four girls off. All of the moms and dads of Ashley’s friends are at least ten years older than him, which isn’t that much and definitely doesn’t stop any of them making a pass at him, men and women both, married and divorced. He’s learnt to be very careful about who he is anything more than passingly polite with, lest they take it the wrong way. Angelique is one of the still-married and pushy as hell types and he’s glad he can leave his mom to the negotiating and instructions, doesn’t need to have her running her fingers over his arm as she asks him if he needs any help.

                She does eventually leave, his mom an expert at making it clear she does not need to stay and is in fact, not welcome to stay. The sleepover goes flawlessly, in that he’s back in Ashley’s good graces, makes them all pancakes for breakfast and then arranges to take them all to church, where they’ll be collected by their parents; two girls going with his mom and two with him and Ashley. He isn’t particularly religious, but he does like the sense of community, when they discuss at the end how some people need help with hay baling, or others with harvesting, or branding and he’s always willing to help out. While he’s been the subject of their gossip more often than not, they’ve also been the first to help him or his family.

                He’s back at the ranch by lunch, leaving Ashley with his mom so she can continue to socialize and be dropped home later. He can use the excuse of needing to get back to the chores, although he suspects that Bradley has likely already taken care of some of the more critical ones. Sure enough the horse feed has all been topped up, their stalls mucked out and the horses themselves out in the pasture where Jake had let them out earlier that morning. He finds Bradley in the kitchen, and he’s just wearing jeans and t-shirt, but is barefoot and is kneading what he assumes is bread dough. Everyone else has the day off, and he should have told Bradley he didn’t expect him to do anything.

                “Where did everyone disappear to this morning?” Bradley asks and Jake stares.

                “It’s Sunday…”

                “Yeah. And?” Bradley asks, as if it’s a standard day of the week and clearly for him it is, not like how it’s ingrained for Jake as the day he goes to church. A look of realization comes over his face. “Oh. Everyone goes to church?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Huh.”

                “Sorry, didn’t think to see if you wanted to come. You’re welcome to come along next week if you want. If you want to be the center of attention and have a bunch of people talk about you behind your back that is.”

                “Why do you go if they do that?”

                “Oh. That happens regardless of whether I go to church or not,” Jake states, because it does. He got used to it when he was the seventeen year old father of a new baby, and then the looks had become slightly pitying when Jessica had died. Then they’d continued to watch him, and the looks had turned approving and respectful. He knows he’s proven a lot of people wrong, and he knows he has his parents to thank for their unwavering support.

                “Yeah, I get that.”

                “Anyway, I just wanted to say I don’t expect you to work every day, you’re entitled to days off.” Bradley’s grinning at him and Jake rolls his eyes. “I’m aware I’m not currently paying you anything, and you could decide to just… walk out the gate if you wanted to. But don’t go thinking you need to work yourself to the bone for me or anything.”

                He catches a brief something in the look Bradley gives him and he doesn’t even have time to parse it before Bradley’s laughing.

                “I might make a couple of phone calls home, let them know I’m okay. Once I’ve got this bread rising anyway.”

                Jake just nods, says he’ll leave him to it, because Bradley had mentioned family, and of course he is staying in touch with them. He has a life away from here, one he will likely return to once he’s gotten the break he said he wanted.

…            …            …

                Another week ticks by, the routine becomes settled again, Bradley’s presence still not standard, he asks far too many questions for anyone to be able to just ignore him, but he has found multiple ways to make himself useful, playing to his strengths. He’s become an infinitely better rider, Ashley taking him out every time she rides herself, and it surprises him that he trusts Bradley with her. Although when he learns Bradley has been talking to her about all the places he’s visited it makes Jake wonder if he’s making it up simply to make Ashley’s wanderlust greater, or whether he is as well travelled as he talks.

                He catches him talking on the phone one evening, his voice soft and he’s reassuring someone, asking them about school and he suspects it’s maybe the person Bradley had mentioned, his step-father’s god-daughter or something? He can’t remember, but the fact that Bradley is talking to her tells him it’s someone important to him. He walks away, not wanting to eavesdrop any more than he already has, but it makes something else in him settle, that Bradley isn’t as footloose and fancy free as he’d first thought. That he does have roots and people he cares about, even if he’s away from them right now.

                Another week slips by, and he realizes that the month trial is coming to an end. While Bradley isn’t an experienced ranch hand by any stretch of the imagination, not worth the money Jake is paying Mikey, he definitely makes himself busy and useful enough that Jake needs to consider paying him more than the tiny stipend he’s been leaving in an envelope for him every week. He finds him out riding, following Ashley’s directions and she’s trying to convince him to try a jump, which he is adamant about not trying.

                “Hey dad.”

                “Hey honey. How’s your favorite student coming along?”

                “He’s stubborn! And he won’t take any risks. Just keeps playing it safe…”

                “He’s also old and terrified about falling from a height and breaking a limb!” Bradley calls out, clearly having heard Ashley slandering his good name. Jake laughs.

                “You want to show him how it’s done dad?”

                Jake gives Bradley a look, there’s a flash of amused challenge and he feels a sudden flash of desire to look good in front of his kid and Bradley licking in his gut.

                “Yeah, why not. Come here and let me have a turn.”

                He watches as Bradley swings himself off, clearly more comfortable with that now and Jake immediately adjusts the stirrups before swinging himself up into the saddle, encouraging Chester into a gentle canter. There are jumps set up, clearly Ashley has been riding, her own horse loves jumping, whereas Chester is a steady and dependable work horse, able to jump when coaxed into it and given a firm hand, but the simple bars Ashley had laid on the ground for Bradley to apparently jump over wouldn’t have even made Chester blink. Getting used to a horse jumping is a learned skill though, and he’s glad Bradley at least is willing to speak up about his own limits. Jake never competed in any rodeo events growing up, but he still knows the mechanics of how they all work and he knows he can’t do anything on Chester that is more complicated than letting him just run and jump and hanging on for the ride. He clicks his tongue, jerks his head toward the gate and Ashley swings it open.

                “I’m going to take him for a quick run. I’ll be right back.”

                He lets out the reins then, leans forward and just urges Chester into a full gallop. It’s been a while since he’s just ridden fast for the sheer fun of it and he lets out a whoop of joy, glad that Chester doesn’t spook easily. It’s exhilarating and he makes a wide circle, doesn’t want to end up a long way away on a horse that’s run out of steam. When he comes back into the arena, he can feel the coiled energy and attention of Chester now focused and he heads into a loop, plotting out a route to take the lower jumps, because he does agree with Bradley, he also doesn’t want to fall and break a limb, even if it’s far less likely for him then it would be for Bradley. He completes the circuit and comes to a stop beside them, adrenaline buzzing through him and he jumps off, rubbing his hands over Chester’s neck in comfort and appreciation.

                “Damn that felt good.”

                “I can see where Ashley gets it from. That was amazing.”

                “Thanks.”

                There’s something in Bradley’s gaze and it’s been a while since Jake has had that directed at him, especially from someone who isn’t married, ten to fifteen years older, never had it directed toward him when he’s at home…

                Desire.

                Blatant open attraction.

                He licks his lips and Bradley’s eyes flick down, following the motion.

                Oh.

                God he really needs to get laid. And not with Bradley. Because he is Bradley’s… boss. Even if he’s not exactly paying him yet. He will be. Paying him that is. And not for anything else.

                Shit.

                He turns away, busies himself with Ashley, talking about her schoolwork, and putting the horses away and the moment, if it had even been a moment, slips away and Bradley is simply leading Chester back toward the stables, no longer looking at Jake.

(This is complete, posting a chapter a day)

CHAPTER TWO

[eisforeidolon]

Question: Think back to the first time that you took a road trip unscripted, without your parents, without the school, where were you going, what were you doing, and what happened?

Jensen: I dunno if it was the first time, but I do remember a trip that I took with my buddies. This would have been - we were pretty young, and we rented one of those RVs, the rent-able RVs? Yeah, don't recommend. And packed, like, I dunno, five or six of us in that thing and drove from here all the way to Texas and then up to Arkansas for my buddy's wedding that was happening, and then all the way back through the desert. It was - there were things that probably happened that should not have - certainly illegal. At one point we, it was late at night and people were falling asleep and we were like, 'Hey, that looks like a good field, let's go have a firework war.' We had a whole - we had saw this - stopped along the road there was a fireworks stand, so we bought just way too many fireworks. We pull over to the side of the road, it's night. We send half the guys like fifty yards away and the other half of the guys are on this side. And we started just shooting roman candles at each other and bottle rockets, like, firing them at each other. And then like one of these was like where you shoot it and then it lands, and then it explodes? It was like we were just trying to kill each other for fun. For fun. We had a guy Teen Wolf the top of it? Like driving down the road, he climbed out the, he took off the vent thing and climbed out the hole and was just like [mimes hanging on and waving]. That's not okay. That's -

JDM: That guy was Jensen. Whenever we use the term [finger quotes] that guy? [points to himself, then Jensen, laughing]

Jensen: Asking for a friend. [JDM cracks up]

JDM: I remember my first, I don't know why I remember this so well, but I remember moving to LA and we drove. My friend Billy Burke, who was on that show Fire Country, yeah, and Charlie Swan in the whatever those vampire movies - Twilight, that's it. So he had a hearse.

Jensen: What?

JDM: No joke. He was in a band called Billy Black and something, but you know, he liked dead stuff. And so he drove, that was his car, was a hearse. And we drove this hearse from Seattle to Los Angeles. And - I mean, we didn't have a firework wars, but I think there was people like riding on top of the hearse and shit. But I do remember it really well, and I remember it just because Billy and I both are still standing today and kinda had a career, so yay. That was a good move.

Jensen: Jared and I used to, uh, road trip every year up to Vancouver for the - before we hit the season. So we would, we would - he would hop in his truck and I would hop in mine, and we would take off, you know, a week before filming started. And we'd drive all the way up, you know take the five and take -

JDM: You'd just follow each other? Walkie talkies?

Jensen: Yeah, walkie talkies. Yeah, you know, we'd be cruising along and - what a great way to, you know, bond.

JDM: Hey, let's pull over and have a firework war! [Jensen cracks up]

Jensen: No, it was like, 'I could go for a little beef jerky, some sunflower seeds'. Which is just road trip necessities. And so we did that for, gosh, like several, several seasons. Probably five years in a row we would drive up and then at the end of the season, we would drive our trucks back. And then I think by that time we had just enough coin we could leave our trucks there over the summer -

JDM: There you go.

Jensen: and fly home and have a new car, so.

JDM: That's smart.

Jensen: Yeah yeah yeah.

JDM: It's okay on the way there, on the way home, though, it's like, 'Ohh, this is a long drive'.

Jensen: It's a long drive!

JDM: I need to get home!

Jensen: Well, no, it was just the end of the season, so we were like, "Woohoo leaving it in the dust, been there for nine months, time to get back to life!' But those were -

JDM: Was that from Texas, or when -

Jensen: No, that was when we were in LA. First few years.

[the-daily-slasher]

The Butcher's Daughter [pt.1]

This is a multi-part slow burn with Thomas Hewitt cause I needed something to write on my off day. There will be spice at some point, and of course: general trigger warnings. Don’t like 18+ scenes/horror/blood/ etc.? That’s ok, just don’t read this one, friend. It will be rather upsetting to you.

Time-Line and Continuity: Sticks mainly to the reboot duology: Texas Chainsaw (2003) and Texas Chainsaw: The Beginning (2006). This story takes place pre-1969. The story will have elements of Texas Chainsaw: The Beginning (2006) and Texas Chainsaw (2003 Remake). The story takes place in the abandoned town seen in those movies, but is an hour drive outside of Harlow, Texas (as seen in Texas Chainsaw 3D) for purposes of plot.

Summary: After your mother's death, your father, driven down a bottle with grief, loses his butcher shop to creditors. Wanting to escape his debts, he chooses to move back to his hometown. Not wanting to lose your last family member and being hopeful of a new start, you go with him. It's a ghost town, but he appreciates the solitude and it allows for enough space to start a small cattle farm. He's happy his old drinking buddy Charlie Hewitt is still in town. His mother, Luda Mae is very happy to have 'neighbors' down the road and feels motherly towards the girl, hoping to take her under her wing. She also can't help but think of the potential for her boy to finally have the chance at a friend.

Note: Reader age is unspecified but reader is of age. I keep hair/skin/body descriptions vague [without sacrificing quality of writing] so everyone can see themselves in the story.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"This place is really out there." You say. Your father is taking his turn driving the old pick-up out to his hometown.

"Use to be farmers out here. Lots of space, no one in your business that you don't want there. You'll like it." He says, hoping you weren't regretting joining him. Though you had lost your job when the family business went under, you didn't have to come with him. "Besides, after a couple weeks I should be able to get a farm hand or two. You could move to Harlow or go finish that degree you were working on."

You smile. "A farm hand out here?" You look out over the dry fields of what used to be sunflowers.

"Sure." You dad says, a playful grin on his face, "I'm sure there's an armadillo or two that could use a steady job." The two of you laugh a little to ignore the weighted reality -- your father needed your help to make this work and there was no way you would be able to avoid the creditors if you moved anywhere else. You told him many times this was your choice, that you wanted to help, but you knew you really had no other option. At least not at the moment.

Your father was not a good man and was not often plagued by guilt for his actions, but he cared for you. The two of you spend the rest of the ride talking about the old house your father had inherited from his parents when they passed away. It's a classic farmhouse layout, a full upstairs you'll get all to yourself. A wraparound porch would be the perfect place to sit outside and watch the sunset. You knew he was painting a picture that was too good to be true, but he seemed happy.

It's mid-afternoon by the time you're pulling into the dusty drive of the house. It's far from the road and the yard surrounding is green and overgrown. The fence around the house has fallen down in several places and remnants of a vegetable and herb garden have grown unchecked and un-weeded in the back of the house.

You help your dad take boxes into the house, taking your things upstairs and your father's things into the bedroom on the ground floor. The house was big but needed cleaning. Everything was covered in a thin layer of sand-like dust and it was obvious no one had been in the house for years.

In the process of getting everything out of the truck, you notice the garden in the back had several, late-season vegetables. Once the boxes are all inside, you go about picking what you can while your dad works on the house's generator. It'd be nice to have something other than bologna sandwiches for dinner.

You found some old baskets in the kitchen pantry, you've already been able to fill two baskets with mustard greens and sweet potatoes and small green pumpkins by the time the sun starts to go down. As you pick up the last basket you watch the lights of the house flicker on and an excited shout from your father as you hear a generator come to life. A smile plays on your features. Perhaps this would be alright.

You go inside the house, setting the basket on the counter next to three others. You start washing the dirt off your hands in the old sink when you hear a car pull into the driveway. A door opens and you hear a gruff voice call your dad's name. "Charlie! You old son of a bitch- you're still here?" You hear your father reply to the man and you peek outside the front room window. An older man with deep features gets out of a beat-up pickup and your dad walks towards him.

"Who the fuck you callin' old, you old cocksucker?" The old man laughs heartily and your father embraces "Charlie".

The two men talk for a few minutes. Your father comes back in, the old man "Charlie" getting back in his truck and leaving.

"Hey, you feel like going out for dinner?" He asks.

"Out?" You ask, confused. You're getting dirt off a basket of sweet potatoes when he comes in.

"That was an old friend of mine, Charlie Hewitt. He and his folks still live around here. Their house is a half mile down the road and his mama is doing a roast tonight." He goes to the sink to wash his hands, dark oil staining the fresh bar of soap by the sink.

You hesitate, but smile, "Sure, dad. Sounds great."

Your old man splashes water on his face and runs his hands through his hair before drying his hands. "Go clean up and we'll head over on that way. Gonna change m'self."

"Like Sunday dinner kind of clean up or just 'no dirt on my hands' clean up?" You set the basket aside and dust your hands off on your jeans.

"Nothin' fancy. His mama's just old fashion- likes dinner to be a little more proper. 'Specially if it's guests." He starts to walk away. "Let's leave in a few, alright?"

You wash your hands, fix your hair, and find an old, corn-yellow dress. It's modest, the hem going down to your shins and the collar buttoning up to the base of your neck. Linen and tailored at the waist, it ruffles in the light breeze as you stand on the porch of the Hewitt household in dusty, white canvas shoes. The air has cooled but you still feel heat coming off the wood of the porch when Luda Mae answers the door.

"Bill! It's good to see you, hun." Luda Mae smiles and opens the door wide and her eyes go to you. "My god she looks just like Beth." You're surprised to hear your mother's name out of the mouth of a stranger but smile politely. Luda Mae smiles, "Luda Mae Hewitt, sweetheart. You must be y/n. I knew both of your parents long before you were born. It's nice to meet you." She welcomes you into the house with a hug. "Come on in Bill. Charlie's having a beer on the back porch with Monty, why don't you join them? I need a little time to finish getting supper ready." She looks at you, "Would you mind? I need a little help getting the table set." She smiles kindly as she leads the two further into the house. It's modest, a little dirty, but everything around this town seemed to be a little grimy.

Your father nods and follows her, making sure you were trailing behind. "The house looks great, Luda. Your boy still helping you around the house?"

"Tommy mostly works at the slaughterhouse nowadays but he still does the heavy lifting around the house and the store when I need him to." She lets him out onto the back porch where he's greeted with friendly, though swear-filled jeers from Charlie and Monty.

"Um how-how can I help?" You ask.

"There're some blue and white plates up on the top shelf of that cabinet. Get them down and set the table for six, dear."

"Yes, ma'am." Luda Mae smiles at your manners. You do as she asks as she gets a roast out of the stove. You carry plates to the dining room and set them out. You hear the side door open and heavy footsteps in the kitchen when you walk back in.

"Excuse me, Miss Luda Mae? I set the plates out. Where do you keep the silverware?" You look up to see a very tall man in a leather, half-mask and slaughterhouse apron. He's splattered with blood and his hair is matted. You shrink back a little when he turns his head and see you. His eyes were intense.

"Y/n this is Thomas. Tommy, this is Y/n, Bill and Beth's daughter. Y/n and Bill moved in down the road. They're staying for dinner so go get cleaned up." She tells her son.

"Nice to meet you." You smile politely and he stiffens slightly before nodding to you and heading up the stairs quickly.

"Don't mind him, dear. Terribly shy." She laughs a little bit and hands Y/n silverware and napkins.

You get the table set and Luda Mae brings in the roast, mashed potatoes, rolls, and a few other things. You help with the last few preparations and Luda Mae calls the men into the dining room. Monty, Charlie, and your father were all different levels of drunk but Luda Mae scares them into acting pretty sober. Thomas comes down in clean clothes and his hair brushed and sits at the table. Luda Mae makes sure he sits next to you. He doesn't say anything the during dinner but Luda Mae is charming and talks to Y/n.

Your father, Charlie, and Monty ignore you for the most part, happy to jeer at each other, cuss, and make off-color jokes just tame enough not to get hit with Luda Mae’s wooden spoon. That’s not to say the two friends of your father don’t recognize your existence. Both men’s eyes wander every part of you, lingering for a little too long. But that’s as far as they go. Bill was a son of a bitch, that’s why they liked him, but he cared fiercely for you. Charlie and Monty knew a single stray comment towards you was a guaranteed ass beating.

“You work at the slaughterhouse?” You ask Thomas, not really expecting an answer. You were alright with a one-sided conversation, but you needed something to tune out the drunk laughter on the other end of the table. “That must be interesting. I’ve never been in a slaughterhouse. Dad and I used to do something similar, though it was just a small butcher’s shop we ran.” You smile charmingly, doing your best to be the kind guest. “Working in a slaughterhouse sounds more interesting, honestly. ‘Specially since you wouldn’t have to deal with some of the customers dad and I would have regularly.”

Thomas tilts his head towards you to listen better as you talk. He offers a confirming “huff” when asked if he works at the slaughterhouse. His eyes stay on you. You were small compared to him, and utterly adorable. You really were interested in his work? More than that, you’d worked in a butcher’s shop? You weren’t a weak build, you had some muscle on you from the work you did. But still, he couldn’t imagine the girl in front of him enjoying what he enjoyed.

Everyone finishes dinner and Luda Mae asks you to help clear the table so you do. All the windows in the bottom floor of the house were open to let the cool, evening breeze through. Your dress ruffles when a stronger breeze blows through and Thomas catches a whiff of your light perfume. He watches as you help his mother, not realizing he was staring until his Uncle Monty points it out, laughing drunkenly.

“Well shit, Bill. Better keep track of your daughter.” He laughs.

“ ‘Fuck you talking about?” Your dad laughs a bit, finishing another beer.

“Ol’ Tommy here can’t keep his damn eyes off her. Got a crush there big boy?” He slurs out and is met with raucous laughter from Charlie.

Bill takes a second and looks Thomas up and down. “Good luck.” He says, “She’d kick your ass.” He says through building laughter.

Luda Mae comes back in the dining room with a cake and you trail behind her with plates. You see the three men laughing and Thomas sitting silently. Charlie and Monty make a couple more cutting remarks towards Thomas and you realize they’re all laughing at his expense. You see your dad open his mouth to join in the jeering.

“Dad.” You say, voice low but firm. It catches his attention immediately and he looks at you. “Don’t.” Thomas looks at you again. Having anyone besides his mother be on his side… it was unusual, but it was nice.

“Sorry kiddo. We ‘ere just havin’ a bit of fun.” He slurs a bit, but he does looks genuinely sorry. Charlie and Monty start to jab at your father when Luda Mae puts them in their place.

Everyone enjoys dessert and you help Luda Mae and Thomas clean up the dishes.

“Dinner was great, Luda Mae.” You say, putting away the last of the dishes. “Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, dear. It was nice to have company over. I enjoyed myself.” She sets the dish towel down that was in her hand. “Do you need help getting Bill back home?”

“I can just drive him home, it’s not a big deal.” It’s then you realize that during the course of doing the dishes, the dining room had gone quiet. You peek back in and see all three men slumped at the table, passed out.

Luda Mae chuckles. “Maybe so but you might want some help loadin’ him up in the truck and dragging him into the house.” She looks at Thomas. “Tommy, get Charlie and Monty upstairs then help Y/n get Bill home.”

Thomas nods and goes and picks up Charlie and his uncle, one under each arm and hauls them upstairs. A few minutes later he’s putting your father in the back seat of the truck and sitting in the passenger side as you drive down the road towards your new home. You can feel his eyes on you, even in the dark of the cabin.

“…I’m sorry if my dad said anything awful.” You say finally to break the silence. “He’s not always like that.”

Thomas huffs quietly in acknowledgement.

“And thank you for helping me get him back to the house. It’d’ve been quite a sight if I’d tried to drag him into the truck myself.” You laugh a little bit at the thought, trying to make light of it all. Thomas feels the smallest twinge of a smile on his face when seeing you laugh.

Once at the house he carries your dad over his shoulder and into his bedroom setting him on the bed. He walks back out into the foyer where you stand, “Here, I’ll give you a ride back home.”

This surprises Thomas a bit but he nods. You really were one of the kindest people he’d met. He walks out to the truck with you but gets to the driver side first. He reaches and opens the door and waits, watching you. After a moment you realize what he’s doing.

“Ah. Thank you, Thomas.” You smile and get into the truck and he closes the door behind you before getting into the truck himself. Your smile causes his heart to tighten. Every smile he could get, he wanted.

You drive him back to his home, making a little more pleasant small talk, and Thomas listened contently. He liked your voice.

Once back, he waits for you to put the truck in park and gets out.

“Goodnight, Thomas.” You give a small wave and drive away. He watches you drive away, raising his hand in a small wave, a barely audible grumble coming from his throat.

“…y/…..n….”

[oliveisme533]

My dad’s neighbor is a dilf

Chapter 3

Joel Miller x You

Summery: You had decided to spend your summer in Austin with your dad. You used to spend almost every summer there, but hadn't spent a summer there since you were a teenager. Which means you hadn't seen a certain Joel Miller in years..

It had been a week since you had accidentally hugged Joel Miller and sobbed into his chest. You had updated your dad on the phone call with your EX boyfriend, but you left out the part where Joel came to check on you and everything that followed. You were just hoping to get through the summer without anymore awkward encounters with your uncommonly hot neighbor. So when the next Friday rolled around and your dad told you that Joel had invited the two of you over for dinner... you had to think quick for an excuse to tell your dad why you would be sitting this one out. It was about 3 in the afternoon when your dad told you about this invitation, and you felt your insides turn to liquid. "Oh sounds great." You responded. It was now 5 o'clock and you decided you would go on a run and then after getting back just tell your dad you were too tired to go to Joel's tonight. It was a fool proof plan. Unfortunately you were so pleased with yourself and distracted that you didn't realize what part of the neighborhood your running path was taking you. You were coming up on Joel's house ... "fuck that's his truck he's definitely home." You kept your head down and kept jogging.

To your horror you saw Joel out of the corner of your eye. He was shirtless and mowing the lawn. He looked up from the mower, and catching sight of you he cracked a smile. You couldn't help but smiler and wave back. Gosh his smile was heavenly. "Hey girl! You better bring careful running in this heat" you slowed to a stop just a few yards from where he was standing. "I know... I grew up this heat though so I'll be alright." You said with one hand up shading the sun from your face. "I was just about to go in for some water myself can I get you some?" The southern girl in you knew better than to say no thank you. "Sure" you said. Joel motioned for you to follow him inside. Your heart was pounding. It had been years since you had been inside this house and certainly never on your own. Joel grabbed a t-shirt that was hanging off the back of his sofa. It looked like there was a pile of clean clothes on couch, waiting to be folded. "Sorry place is a little messy, I'll get it cleaned up before you and your dad come over." You didn't think it was messy. It just looked like a home that showed signs of life being lived. "Are you going to clean yourself up too?" You teased, taking the glass of water from him. Joel chuckled "definitely" you took a sip of water, feeling awkward. "Um so I just wanted to apologize about the other day" Joel waved his hand to silence you. "Hush, you ain't gotta do all that sweetheart" the nickname made your stomach do a flip. It was a good thing your cheeks were already pink from your run because you were pretty sure you were blushing pretty hard right now. Joel was kind however and changed the subject. "Figured I would pick up a desert for this evening...you got any requests'?" He was now busying himself in the kitchen putting his cup in the dishwasher. You finished your own water and placed your cup in the dishwasher. "Hmmmm Ice cream?" Joel smiled at you again "what kind you want sweetheart?" That southern drawl and those pet names were doing things to you. "Butter pecan" ...now you definitely weren't getting out of this dinner.

You thanked Joel for the water and walked back home. You went up stairs to take a shower and found yourself pondering what to wear. A cute summer dress perhaps? You stood in your closet with a towel wrapped around your damp body and your head cocked to one side as you eyed a particularly small dress. It was one of your favorites to wear in the Texas heat. However it was several years old at this point and you were a bit taller and your curves had filled out a bit more. You tried it on nonetheless. It still hung loose in all the right places so you resolved to wear it, even tho it was a bit short and it did show a little cleavage. "That's a pretty dress baby" your dad said as you descended the stairs. The air was still very warm but the sun was starting to set. At Joel's house your dad didn't really knock. He shouted a hello and let himself in the front door. Joel was already in the back yard manning the grill. "Heyy" he called, giving your dad a pat on the back. You found yourself wandering around Joel's back garden looking at the flowers. You were impressed with how well the beds were kept. Joel and your dad were laughing and chatting, each of the gripping a cold beer. You were so absorbed in admiring the flowers that you didn't notice the laughter had stopped, and you didn't even notice the slam of the back door as your dad retreated to the kitchen likely for more beer. "You can pick some if you want. Many as ya like" Joel's voice startled you. You were on your knees watching a bumblebee as he landed on a bud of lavender. "You scared me" you laughed. Joel smiled down at you and held out a large, tan hand. You took it and he effortlessly pulled you up from the ground. His eyes lingered on your chest for only a second. In fact you couldn't be sure if it really happened or you just dreamed it."Meant what I said... pretty girl like you should have all the pretty flowers in the world" with this he winked and walked back towards the grill. Your mind could just be playing trick on you OR the dress you wore was having the desired effect.

After dinner you decided to test your luck. You were in the kitchen helping Joel load the dishwasher and your dad had just walked out of the room with the trash. You bent down so as your short dress showed just a bit too much. Behind you Joel choked on the beer he had been nursing. You smiled to yourself, knowing Joel had seen your blue, lace panties. Playing dumb you stood up quickly "are you okay?" You asked innocently. Joel rubbed his chest "yeah yeah. Just down the wrong pipe that's all" ..."gosh it seems like forever since you've been here for the summer. Last time was when you graduated high school? Ain't that right?" You smiled, knowing he was trying to figure your age. "That's right" "how many years has that been now?" He asked nonchalantly. "You can ask how old I am... I won't be offended" you laughed. Joel held up both hands in surrender. "Who says I was asking that?" You rolled your eyes. " I'm 25, but you wouldn't know anything about that old man. What's it been 20 years since you been that young?" Joel pretended to pull a knife from his heart. Your dad had made his way back from the trash bins. "Your little girl is callin' me old" Joel complained. Your dad only shrugged. "you are old." The winds had picked up outside and the sky was now a deep gray. "Reckon she's gonna blow?" Joel asked, now sounding a bit more serious. Your dad crossed his arms over his chest and peered out the kitchen window. "Yeah... think she might. We ought to get home" it was peak tornado season and your dad wasn't one to take risks. That night you lay in bed with the howling winds and rain drops hitting your window with impressive force. There was a thought that you couldn't seem to push away. How old was Joel? Before you got too carried away with this fantasy it might be worth figuring out how significant this age gap really was. Then you remembered something. "I have his number..." you whispered to yourself in the dark. In middle school and high school you would come over and watch Sarah, naturally you had Joel's number as the person baby sitting his daughter. That was quite some time ago, what if he didn't have the same number. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like you're sending a particularly flirty text right? So he can't shoot you down if your asking an innocent question. You thumbed through your contacts in your phone and smiled to yourself as you found his name saved under Mr. Miller

You never answered my question about how old you are. I told you my age, so seems only fair...

You were impressed with how quickly your phone buzzed.

Girl what are you doin' textin me? Do you know what time it is?

Your heart was racing now. Was this his way of shutting you down?

I'm 37...now go to sleep

You smiled at your phone screen. That's not a shut down right? You decided you would go to sleep after all

[lem0n-writes]

You should hmmmmmm write fatherly mercs NOW 👿👿👿👿👿

If u want to teehee

Mercs being Fatherly for you since yk ur fatherless and stuff also scout bc he’s ur lame brother

Scout

He isn’t really the person you’d want as a father figure, but he can definitely act as an older brother or just a sibling in general!

Scout also gives me fun but weird uncle, so if you want an estranged uncle who is pretty dumb, funny, and kind of rich??? then yeah he’s a good choice.

The kind of guy to watch sports and yell at the players even though he doesn’t know the rules, that’s so father of him

He would then proceed to try to teach you the sport, and he will fail.

You guys just end up playing catch in the yard, but y’all quickly abandoned the gear after Scout heard an ice cream truck

You walk home together eating your deformed character popsicles, Scout’s arm around your shoulder, and the sun setting

Heavy

If you need a father figure, you came to the right person

He had to be the ‘man of the house’ for a while since his father died when he was young, so he kind of gets how you miss that paternal relationship

He’s very good at comforting and helping you when you aren’t feel well or having trouble with things even though he doesn’t speak English very well

I think having three younger sisters contributed to that

When you guys get closer, Heavy starts watching you on the battlefield more and keeping you near him, just to make sure you’re doing ok

He worries about you even though you guys do this every day, but he just can’t help worrying for you!!

Heavy would read you books in Russian, even though you don't understand much of it, and it reminds him of reading to his sisters when they were younger

When you visit Medic, Heavy watches the doctor closely to make sure he doesn’t try implanting any animal organs that don’t belong, but don’t worry, Medic takes a liking to you too because Heavy likes ya :)

Engineer

Is it just me or does he just give me like childhood nostalgia? Might just be because I'm from Texas too

If you start sticking to him like a lost puppy, he'll quickly go with it. He'll be looking out for you on the battlefield even though you’re a smart kid

Engie will definitely teach you a bit about engineering if you're interested too! He's very happy to explain anything and everything, not only engineering stuff, but it'd lowkey just be him info dumping

He will update your weapons more often than the other mercs, but that also means you guys sometimes have little adventures trying to fix your weapons or hunting down the occasional bread monster herd

Y'all have fun though, and your weapon gets updates, so win win?

He reads stories to you and Pyro too, mostly fiction ones though like the Grimm Brothers' writing.

Speaking of Pyro, you two are basically siblings now, good luck. Engineer has a little nook for you two to hang out in while he works into the nights. If you and Pyro fall asleep there, he'll walk you back to your room, maybe read you a silly bedtime story if Pyro's still with you two, and wish you a good night

Medic

He’s a questionable choice for a father figure, but he's silly <3

You’d probably be in the infirmary or calling him a lot if he starts feeling protective of you, but he thinks it’s sweet that you always get your injuries taken care of in this line of work. Like if you get a paper cut, you make sure to slap a bandaid on it, y’all know what i mean?

I don’t know how to explain in a way that doesn’t sound weird, but Medic is weird so eh?

During battles, when he knows the Heavy is safe, he’ll run off to top off your health, even if you’re only down 5 HP, and he saves his Ubercharges for you and Heavy <3

But since you’re getting injured a lot, Medic decides to teach you some first aid past the basics

If you’re interested, he’d teach you more advanced biology and even let you assist in surgeries! You guys bond over spinning Scout’s organs around, and Scout is not happy about getting his lungs switched around with his kidneys

All this time in his medbay got his doves quite used to you, so they now have favorites, you and Heavy. Although, now sometimes Archimedes tries to sneak away from their dad to follow you

Heavy always brings Archimedes back to Medic after you give them treats

Spy

Oh boy

If Spy begins acting in a fatherly way towards you, you must be something special

And Spy doesn’t have the best track record with children, Scout and the kid from the Smissmas comic, however Spy does still care

It would mostly be shown through gifts or praise for your exceptional work, he’s just very proud of you!!

While you’re great and all, he still watches your back to keep you safe from energy spies, and she teaches you new tricks to surprise the enemy team

It’s a nice challenge for you while also bonding with your sort of father figure!

When you learn a new skill, he’ll be singing you praises to the team for the next few days and expect to find a shiny gift from them in your room that night

“Bien joué, you have done well this past week”