Seasons Eatings - Fucksgiving 2k25
You hook up with a cute guy the night before Thanksgiving. You didn't know you were getting a whole family as part of the deal. AKA You fuck Joel and have the most awkward Thanksgiving ever with the Millers.
Pairing: Joel x Female Reader
Length: 8.7k
CW: No age gap (Joel and reader are both mid-late 20s.) No outbreak AU. Joel is awkward af but fucks nasty. Sarah is an adorable menace. Oral sex (f receiving.) Protected P in V sex. Awkward family dynamics. General cuteness and awkwardness.
A/N: I EDITED LITERALLY NONE OF THIS BECAUSE I NEED TO HEAD TO FAMILY DINNER here's something to read while navigating all the awkward family dynamics of your own LOVE YOU!!
Fuck, this was a shitty idea.
You sighed from your spot at the far end of the bar, a caddy of straws and square napkins in front of you, as you stirred your cocktail with the black straw.
It wasn’t even a particularly good cocktail. On a graduate assistant’s stipend, it’s not like you could afford top shelf booze and you’d definitely been a little spoiled in undergrad, regularly going to cocktail bars that had house-made syrups and muddled fresh fruit. This was a dive, one that wasn’t anywhere near the University of Texas campus and, on the night before Thanksgiving, was packed with people who had returned to their hometown for the holiday and gone out to get hammered with their friends from high school.
You, on the other hand, were far from home.
It was your first semester at UT and you just didn’t have the money to fly clear across the country to be with family for the holiday, especially since your parents had cut you off when you decided to go for your doctorate instead of going for what your mother and her ilk affectionately called your “MRS Degree.” At the time, you’d felt somewhat noble, telling your parents and their money to get fucked so you could chase your own, independent dreams. It didn’t feel as good now as you sat alone, drinking shitty vodka with cheap cranberry juice cocktail and wondering what your high school friends were up to at the bar in your own hometown.
There was a raucous sound from near the jukebox and you looked over to find a woman shrieking in flirtatious laughter as a man who looked to be about the age of some of the students in your undergrad classes tickled her before pulling her back into himself and kissing her cheek. You groaned, rolling your eyes and chugging the rest of your shitty cocktail.
This was torture.
When had life stopped being that much fun? Were you just too old now or had blowing up that much of your personal history made it so that kind of fun was closed to you now?
You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer to that.
Instead, you purposely avoided looking over there again, waiting for the bartender to realize that you needed a refill and tried to pretend that you actually wanted to be in this sad little corner of this neighborhood bar when, suddenly, the man who’d been flirting with the woman by the jukebox appeared beside you.
“Now you look way too sad to be sitting at a bar on a night like this,” he said, leaning against the bar, propped up on his elbow. He looked you up and down, his dark hair slicked back and a cocky little smile on his clean-shaven face. Up close, he looked so young you almost laughed.
“Do I?” you asked.
“Yes you do,” he said. “And I, in all good conscious, cannot just let you miss out on the party.”
“Really?” You asked.
“Mhmm,” he said. “Now, the good news is, we got room at our table over that way-“ he nodded toward the area by the jukebox “-and I’m afraid I’m gonna have to insist you come sit with us.”
“Insist?” You asked, brows raised, a little laugh you tried to suppress slipping out all the same. “Why? And are you sure your date would be happy with you insisting I do anything at all?”
“Maria?” He asked, waving you off. “She’s the one who told me to come over here. And I insist because I ain’t ever seen you in here before which means you’re either not from around here - which is my guess - andv on the outs with your family.”
You blinked in surprise for a second, shocked, and the man smiled, his brown eyes sparkling.
“I’m right, ain’t I?” he asked. “I knew it.”
“Are you even old enough to be in here?” You asked, changing the subject.
He laughed.
“I’m 21,” he said. “And my name’s Tommy, in case you’re wonderin’. I’ll even buy you a drink. C’mon, we’re a fun crowd, promise.”
He held out his hand and you took it, giving him your hame in return.
“So, Tommy, are you actually 21 or are you ’21’?” You put the number in air quotes.
He laughed again.
“Actually 21,” he said. “No illegal activity over here. Well, not right now at least. Don’t make me beg now.”
You smiled and shook your head a little, twisting your empty cocktail glass in your fingers.
What the fuck else were you going to do with your Wednesday night?
“Fuck it,” you said. “Why not?”
“Hell yeah!” He held up a hand for a high five and you gave it to him, his fingers closing around yours before tugging you off the barstool and leading you to the corner of the bar that was packed with young men in t-shirts and jeans and work boots, most of whom had a girl alongside them or perched on their laps as they laughed and drank.
“Hey!” The woman - Maria, you were pretty sure - who’d been laughing with Tommy a few minutes earlier cried, arms up and smiling at you like you were old friends. “You came over!”
She hugged you and you laughed, hugging her back, understanding Tommy’s motives a little better now. His girlfriend was a friendly drunk and he was happy to give her anything she asked for.
She pulled back from you, looking you up and down before giving your arm a squeeze.
“I feel like you’re familiar,” she said, stumbling a little but catching herself all the same. “I’ve definitely seen you around. Are you from Nebraska by chance?”
“No,” you laughed, looking her up and down, too. She was in a satin top and fitted jeans and boots with a stiletto heel, her hair in micro braids that hung to her waist and her lips a deep berry. She was familiar, too, you realized as you tried to place her. “Do you go to UT?”
“Yes!” She said, her eyes lighting up. “I’m in law school there!”
“That’s it then,” you laughed as she jumped excitedly, practically giddy. “I’m going for my doctorate and I’m a graduate assistant there, we’ve probably passed each other on campus.”
“Another college girl!” She threw her hands up again. “Welcome to the party! What are you drinking, I’ll make Tommy go get us more.”
“Vodka cranberry,” you said. “I’m pretty easy to please.”
“Tommy!” She called over her shoulder. “Vodka cran for my new best friend and another G and T for me!”
She took your hand, not waiting for a reply, and led you to an empty seat, nudging you down into it before perching on the edge of the table.
“So,” she said, leaning into you so that some of her braids slipped over her shoulder. “What are you…”
There was distinctive guitar riff from the jukebox and she sat bolt upright, her eyes wide for a moment before she yelped in excitement, her arms going up yet again.
“Tommy!” She yelled, suddenly forgetting you were there at all. “It’s my song!”
She jumped down from the table and ran off to find her boyfriend, stumbling a little as she left you behind.
“So,” said a deep voice next to you. “They got you, too.”
You turned to find an almost shockingly handsome man at your side, so handsome you wondered how you hadn’t noticed him before. He was probably about your age, with dark curls and deep eyes and a beard framing a mouth that you couldn’t help but want to taste from the moment you saw it. There was something about the form of his face that reminded you of art, like he was a sculpture that you were too close to. He was holding a bottle of beer and had one ankle propped on the other knee, lounging in the chair more than sitting in it.
“Got me?” You asked.
“Tommy n’Maria,” he gestured toward the pair with the mouth of his beer bottle, Tommy almost propping his girlfriend up as they danced awkwardly in the only open space in the place. “Decided to start the celebration a day early and make sure everyone else does, too.”
“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. “In that case, yes.”
There was a thud followed an uproarious laugh from the other side of the table, making you jump. The two men at the end of the table looked to be at the end of a competitive arm wrestling match as a few others clapped and cheered.
“Don’t mind them,” the man said. “Don’t take much to get ‘em riled up. Before too long, they’ll be cryin’ and telling each other how much they love each other. Happens a few times a year.”
“So you know this crowd then?” You asked.
He laughed a little.
“Something like that,” he said. “We all work together, on the same contracting crew.”
“Nice,” you nodded. “So what brings you out tonight?”
“Don’t have to get up early tomorrow so I let my brother talk me into it,” he smiled, a little cocky half smile and the resemblance to Tommy was, suddenly, clear. “One upside to the holiday, anyway. I’m Joel, by the way.”
“Joel what?” you asked.
“Joel Miller,” he said.
You introduced yourself in return and he repeated your name like he was testing out the feeling of it on his tongue and there was something about the way he did it that you liked.
“My brother really not gotten you another drink yet?” He asked. “Because I’m sure that’s how he got you over here.”
You laughed.
“He’s keeping his girl happy,” you said. “Can’t hold it against him.”
“Well,” he said. “I don’t got that excuse so, if you’ll gimme just a minute… Vodka cranberry, right?”
You nodded and watched as he worked his way through the crowd up to the bar, his broad shoulders distinctive even from your spot at the table. He came back and handed you the drink before taking his seat again.
“There,” he said. “Can’t let a pretty girl go without.”
You tried to hide your smile, taking a sip of your drink. You were pleasantly surprised, he’d gotten you better than well vodka.
“So, Joel Miller,” you said. “You don’t seem super excited to be out with the party animals.”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “Thanksgiving ain’t my favorite day but gotta play nice with my kid brother every now and then. And Maria’s a good influence, don’t want her to get wise. Why’re you out all on your own the night before a holiday?”
“Well,” you sighed. “I’m in grad school and a graduate assistant stipend doesn’t get you far so, without help from my parents, I’m kind of stuck. All my friends from school have gone home for the break and I thought going out would at least be a distraction but… not so much.”
He nodded knowingly.
“You and your parents not on the best terms?” he asked.
“Something like that,” you replied.
“I know what that’s like,” he said. “Only just started talking to my mom again few months back. This’ll be the first holiday together in a while.”
“And is that a good thing?” you asked.
He shrugged.
“We’ll see how it goes,” he said. “I’m hostin’, so…”
“A man who can cook!” You gasped teasingly and he shook his head a little as he smiled. “Color me impressed.”
“I’m a man who, for some fuckin’ reason, decided to buy a house a few months ago so I got stuck hosting,” he said. “But… yeah, I can make a turkey.”
You settled into a comfortable cadence with him, the rest of the raucous bar seeming to fade into the background as you talked. He was funny, almost oddly earnest, and the fact that you were tipsy was making it harder to not stare at just how fucking good looking he was.
Because he was good looking, almost insanely good looking, and it had been… well, longer than you were willing to admit since you’d had that thought about someone. You’d be so focused on your studies and distracted by the bullshit your family was putting you through that you hadn’t had time to think about something like good looking men or something like a relationship.
And then here you were, single and alone at a bar the night before Thanksgiving and not able to think about anything but how good looking the man beside you was.
Your chairs had drifted closer as you’d been talking, your arm brushing his when you moved, your knees alongside one of his and you kept wanting to be just a little bit closer as though that would lessen the pull you felt at the base of your chest toward this man you’d just met.
“That’s how I started playin’…” his voice trailed off, his eyes drifting to your lips, before giving his head a firm shake. “Fuck it, I’m just… It OK if I kiss you? Because goddamn it feels like all I can think about right now is kissin’ you.”
“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, breathlessly. “Yeah, you can kiss me, please kiss me.”
He didn’t hesitate then, his large hands taking your face almost roughly he moved so fast, tilting your head just so as he pressed his lips to yours.
It wasn’t soft or delicate or hesitant in the way you’d come to expect first kisses with a man to be, where one or both of you were shy and cautious of rejection. Instead, this was hungry, demanding, like he was going to devour you and you wanted to let him. You weren’t sure how long the kiss lasted, only that when he eventually pulled away, you wanted more.
His dark eyes ranged over you as you both panted for breath, the callus on his fingers rough on your skin.
“Wanna get out of here?” He asked, voice rough.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah, I do.”
He took your hand and pulled you to your feet and tugged you along behind him toward the door.
“Oh shit, you make a friend Joel?” Someone called after the pair of you, teasing.
“Fuck off, Tommy!” Joel yelled back, not even turning to look at him as he led you to a beat up truck in the parking lot.
He opened the door for you and, before turning to close it once you were safely deposited into the passenger seat, took your chin in his long, thick fingers, tugging your head to face him.
“I need to just…” he said before kissing you again, desperate like before. He tasted like beer and smelled like sawdust and spice and you groaned into his mouth, an ache settling low inside you at the feeling of his lips on yours. He pulled back from you, looking almost surprised as he did. “Fuck, woman. You’re just…” His voice trailed off and you felt yourself smile without meaning to. He shook his head, like he was clearing his mind, before going and getting in the driver’s seat.
“Mind if we head to my place?” He asked. “Ain’t far.”
“Closer the better,” you said and he nodded, the radio crackling to life when he turned the key, a Springsteen song on.
You looked at him as he drove, his eyes almost set on the road in front of him like if he stared at it hard enough he wouldn’t stare at you instead.
“Joel, you’re not tipsy, are you?”
“M’not,” he said, laughing once. “Trust me, baby, I’m plenty sober.”
“Good,” you said, reaching over to his side of the truck, your hand finding the inside of his thigh. His breath caught. “Because I wouldn’t want to distract you if you were already… compromised.”
Your fingers trailed over his thigh - thick and muscular - and you resisted the urge to go higher, instead pressing into him so the denim of his jeans bunched in your hand.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, shifting in the driver’s seat. “You tryin’ to get me riled up?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged, trying to hide your smirk. “Unless you intended to just pour me a drink when we get to your place.”
“Baby, I’ll be honest with you,” he grinned a cocky little grin. “I wasn’t planning to even stop until we were in my bedroom.”
Joel was right, it wasn’t far to his house as he parked in front of a modest ranch only a few minutes drive from the bar. You didn’t wait for him to open your door this time, practically jumping out of your seat when he put the truck in park but Joel met you around the front of it, anyway, grabbing you like he did at the bar. One hand went to your face, the other to your waist as he pulled your entire body into his. He kissed you hard and urgent, his tongue pushing into your mouth and your arms went around his neck as you arched into him. You could feel his cock through his jeans, thick and long and hard and your pussy clenched around nothing, like your body was already getting ready to take him.
He didn’t separate from you as he led you toward the house, keeping his grip on you as he walked backwards up the walk toward the front door. He even fumbled in his pocket for his key while kissing you, only pulling away long enough to unlock and open the door.
The moment you were inside you started pulling at his clothes, tugging at his belt as his lips found yours again and you followed where he led, through a dark living room that you barely caught a glimpse of, down a hall where you deposited the belt, finally to his bedroom.
He flipped on a light as you tugged his shirt up and over his head and you stood apart from each other for a moment, both of you panting for breath.
You looked him up and down, his arms sculpted and strong, a touch of softness to his stomach, the kind that men who actually worked with their bodies got. You’d messed up his hair, an almost rugged disheveled look to him that you would have thought was purposeful in any other context.
“You… uh…” He winced a little as he awkwardly cupped the back of his neck. “You sure about this? No pressure or nothin’ like that, I’ll take you back to your car or even home if you want…”
You laughed a little at his sudden apparent shyness.
“You don’t do this very much, do you?” You asked.
He laughed lightly, too.
“No, can’t say that I do.”
You smiled and stepped closer to him, fingertips tracing over his pecs, licking your lips in anticipation.
“And what’s keeping a good looking guy like you from the bar scene?” You asked. “There’s not a Mrs. Miller I should be concerned about, is there?”
He really laughed that time.
“No,” he said. “No, definitely ain’t that.”
“Well good,” you said softly, tugging your shirt off and dropping it to the floor. You watched Joel’s throat working as he swallowed, his eyes on your newly exposed chest. “Because I don’t want to be the other woman.”
And then you were kissing again. Joel’s hands were gentler on you then and he moved slower, easing you back toward his bed. He held you against him, his skin soft and smooth and warm, his hands spreading wide over your back and you tried to remember the last time anyone touched you like this. Not that it mattered. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt like this before, especially not from someone you’d just met. There was this needy ache inside yourself that you didn’t think you’d ever experienced before, a burning drive inside your skin that made it seem like you’d burst into flame if you didn’t somehow get more of him, if you didn’t get him closer.
It was a mercy when his fingers found the clasp on your bra, fumbling blindly until the hooks came unlatched and he slid the straps down your arms before pulling the cups away from you, looking down to your chest as more of your skin was revealed to him.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his hands coming to gently, almost reverently, cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed your nipples, the already pebbling flesh stiffening under his touch. “You are fucking beautiful.”
He looked back to your face, his eyes tracing over you for a moment before kissing you again. He nudged you down onto the bed, his eyes on yours as he spread your legs wide before kneeling in front of you. Your heart rate quickened as he unbuttoned your jeans before looping his fingers around the waistband of them and your panties. You lifted your hips from the mattress as he pulled them down, casting your clothes aside. You instinctively clutched your thighs together but Joel kissed the soft inside of your knee, his hands sliding between your legs to gently open you to him again.
“This OK?” He asked, watching you. “Because I’ve been thinking about tasting you since you sat down next to me.”
“Fuck,” you panted, letting your legs relax as he spread your thighs again. He watched as they did, his eyes trained on your sex as it was revealed to him. “That might be the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Good,” he said, looking up to you. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen.”
He all but dove into your pussy then, his mouth hot and wet on your core. His tongue drove into you, his large nose pressing into your slit, teasing your clit as he lapped at your entrance.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped, your fingers finding his hair and twisting and tangling in it, holding his face agains yourself. He moaned when you did, like eating you out was the best thing he’d ever done. His tongue drove deeper and his hand flew to the apex of your cunt, fingers splaying over the top of your mound, his thumb finding your clit with expert ease. He worked your sensitive nub from above and below as he ate at you, moaning again as you started to tighten around him. Your entire being was hot and needy, all of it drawing low inside yourself as Joel devoured you.
“I’m gonna come,” you panted, your fingers knotted in his hair, your hips rocking against his face. You couldn’t help it, your orgasm so close to the surface that it hurt to not chase it. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I…”
Joel pushed a finger inside you alongside his tongue, making your back arch and hips still as he found the tender place deep inside of you that made you come apart around him. Your whole body throbbed with it, the tight band he’d steadily wound tighter and tighter snapping under his careful touch.
He pulled back from you as your orgasm eased, his eyes locked on your still throbbing pussy, his thumb gently stroking you as you came down from your high.
“You come so damn pretty,” he panted before wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist.
You tried to reply but couldn’t bring yourself to actually say anything, just collapsing back onto his bed, whole body limp. Joel stood up then, a satisfied look on his face as he started to open his pants. “You doin’ OK there baby?”
You laughed in spite of yourself.
“Oh, I’m great,” you said.
“You wanna keep going?” He asked, his hands on his jeans and the waistband of his underwear, ready to slide them down. “Because…”
“I want it,” you cut him off. Normally, you’d at least feel self conscious about being so desperate but there was something about Joel that just put you at ease. Wanting him came so naturally it was only right that he know it. “Please. I want you.”
Even though you’d just come, it was true.
It wasn’t that the orgasm hadn’t been incredible. It had been. It was easily one of the most powerful orgasms you’d ever had and if you’d given it to yourself, you would have passed out immediately after, sated and happy.
But because it had come from Joel, it only made you hungrier. Like some part of your physiology knew that you’d only had a taste, that it could be so, so much better than this and you weren’t about to walk away until you knew everything he could do.
He gave you a lopsided grin that made his cheek dimple as he dropped his pants and underwear, exposing his cock as he did. Your eyes went wide at the sight, you couldn’t help it. Long and hard and thick, you were thankful, in that moment, that you’d had your fair share of fun in your undergrad years - though you weren’t sure you’d ever been with a man quite that large. He swiped his thumb over his swollen head, catching his precome on his fingertip before spreading it over his length as he stroked himself. With his other hand, he reached out and gently dipped two fingers into the entrance to your pussy, gathering your wetness before bringing it back to himself, groaning and tilting his head back in pleasure as his slickened fingers made contact with his cock.
“I’ve got condoms,” he said. “But fuck, had to feel how wet you are for me before I put one on.”
He stroked himself for a moment before going into his nightstand and getting a small box out. He held it up for a moment, squinting at the side and you laughed a little, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him.
“Everything OK?” You asked.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, going from confident to a little awkward again. “Just… uh… like I said, ain’t done this in a while, wanted to make sure these were still good. They are, just needed to check.”
He pulled one out from the box and carefully tore the foil packet before rolling it onto his length as you crawled backwards on the bed, legs spread wide for him once again. He followed you and you took a moment to admire his body as you did, the way he moved, the sculpture of his form as he settled between your thighs. He looked at you, guiding his cock to your slit and tracing your sex with his head. You moaned pathetically when he brushed your clit, that desperate, driving want inside you growing again. He smirked and tapped the tip against that sensitive spot before rubbing it again, making your hips involuntarily jerk.
“Don’t worry baby,” he said. “I’ll let you have it, just getting you all ready to come for me again. You feel too good inside, don’t think I’ll last long once I’m inside you.”
You just nodded because you couldn’t think of anything else to say, too needy to think of anything to say, too close to exactly what you wanted to dare move.
He pushed inside you then, his head stretching your entrance with a pleasant burn that wasn’t quite pain and he groaned in pleasure, his head falling back in ecstasy as he did. He opened you slow and steady and you felt yourself straining to take him, your swollen and tender center working to take him. His head pressed against your cervix, firm and and insistent, as he managed to get his whole length inside of you, his hips flush against you.
“Fuck, you’re huge,” you panted for breath as he just held himself inside you, giving your body a chance to adjust to his size.
“Pretty pussy of yours takin’ me so well,” he said, his thumb going to your clit, brushing against you gently, making you moan. “Goddamn, baby, feeling so fucking good around me.”
He pushed a little harder on your clit then and your hips rocked against him, desperate for more. Joel seemed to take that as permission to start fucking you - really fucking you. He stopped teasing your clit and took your hips in his hands, leaning over you so the soft skin of the root of his cock was against your clit, as he started moving within you.
He was slow but firm at first, pulling back so just the tip of him was inside you before bottoming out and grinding himself deep inside. But that didn’t last long and you watched him watch the place he was moving in you with an almost obsessive look in his eyes, like he needed to see himself fucking you harder and faster.
With each stroke, his head was catching on that place deep inside you that was driving your want higher, your whole body getting tighter, every ounce of want you’d ever had feeling like it was buzzing through you like an electric current.
“Fuck,” he shook his head once before folding over you, his skin everywhere on yours as he released your hips, one of his hands finding your jaw and tugging your face to exactly where he wanted you, his mouth claiming yours the way his cock was claiming your pussy.
Your arms went around him, pulling him closer, your hips working up against his as he fucked you hard and fast and deep, holding himself against the deepest part of you for a second with each stroke. He kissed down your jaw to your neck to your ear, making your hips stutter against him as he kept up his forceful pace.
“Can feel how close you are,” he panted, his breath hot on your ear. “You can come, baby. Want you to come for me, want to feel that tight, hot little pussy come on me, c’mon.”
You groaned, pleasure driving higher at his words, your core drawn so tight around him that it hurt, teetering on the edge of an orgasm that you knew was going to be so strong that you might pass out.
He fucked you harder and faster for a moment before pressing and staying deep, impossibly deeper than he’d been before, the heat of him against your clit, your pussy stretched to its limit and it was more than you could handle as you started to come with a desperate moan.
“Oh fuck, there you go,” he said as your core fluttered around him, your body working his cock from within. He started to fuck you through it, moving again and drawing out your orgasm before pressing his mouth to yours as he thrust deep one final time and you felt him come apart inside you just as your orgasm began to ease.
He collapsed on you when he finished, panting for breath, your body limp below his.
“Holy shit,” you managed after a minute and he laughed, his cock still inside so you could feel him do it.
“Yeah,” he said, withdrawing himself slowly, gently before falling to the bed beside you. “Christ, woman.”
He tugged blankets over the two of you before pulling you against him and you snuggled into his side, his arm going around you as he traced little patterns over your shoulder.
You lay there in silence for a while, your body relaxed, not wanting to say anything to break whatever spell seemed to be hanging over the two of you but, eventually, you had to address the elephant in the room.
“I should probably get going,” you said, your hand against his chest, but you made no attempt to move. “Call for a ride…”
“Don’t gotta do that,” he said, sounding sleepy. “I’ll take you home or back to the bar for your car or wherever you want in a little while just… just stay here for a bit, OK baby?”
You knew you should fight the urge to stay right where you were but you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“OK,” you said, nuzzling closer to him and yawning. “But just for a while.”
It didn’t take long before you both fell asleep.
***
“DAD, I’M HOME!”
His daughter’s yell made Joel jerk awake, his head fuzzy and body warm. He heard the front door slam and then the pounding of little feet down the hall.
“Dad, why is your belt out here?” Sarah called. “And why aren’t you making cinnamon rolls? The parade starts soon, that’s why Mrs. Adler…”
He heard the handle of his bedroom door rattle and he froze, already on the verge of a panic before he heard his neighbor take over.
“It sounds like your dad is still waking up for the day,” Mrs. Adler said, the jiggling of the door handle disappearing. “Why don’t we give him a minute, OK?”
You were stiff beside him and he turned his head to find you staring at him, eyes wide and a look of damn near horror on your face.
“What the fuck?” You whispered and he frowned. You might have been a little tipsy leaving the bar last night but you sure as hell weren’t drunk enough to not remember fucking him. He never would have fucked you if that were the case. You sat up, clutching the blanket against your bare chest. “You said you weren’t fucking married, you fucking asshole!”
You shoved him before scrambling to get out of bed, going for your clothes.
“No, wait…” he said, getting up, too, and reaching for you but you shrugged him off.
“I’m not going to cover for your ass,” you snapped, pulling your panties on angrily, glaring at him. “You’re going to have to deal with the fact that…”
“I ain’t married,” he cut you off, keenly aware of the fact that he was standing in front of you - a virtual stranger he’d just had what was probably the best sex of his life with - as naked as the day he was born.
“Then who is that?” You hissed, grabbing your bra next.
“My daughter and the next door neighbor who volunteered to have her sleep over when Tommy talked me into going out last night,” he said quietly. He saw you deflate some then, your anger easing. “I’m a single dad, It’s just me and her.”
“And you didn’t think to mention your child last night?” You asked, just a lingering hint of your aggression left in your voice.
He just shrugged.
“Women our age don’t exactly want someone who’s got a lot of responsibility,” he said. “S’why I don’t really do this-“ he gestured between the two of you “-and I wasn’t exactly planning to make an introduction today, alright?”
You squared your jaw but shook your head a little, resigned, and Joel went to pull on a clean pair of boxer briefs.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said, getting dressed quickly. “I figured… I dunno, if you wanted to see me again after last night then… I would have figured it out I guess.”
He pulled a shirt on and turned to look at you. Your bra was on, jeans, too, but your shirt was dangling from your fist as your eyes raked over him like you were trying to tell if he was telling you the truth or not.
“Swear I wasn’t trying to pull one over on ya,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone last night and… damn I really hope I didn’t just fuck this up because I really like you.”
It was the truth. He’d gone out to humor Tommy. He hadn’t dated in years, not since Sarah was about three, he just didn’t have the time or the energy to seek someone out and then put in the effort to find out if it was worth it to have a relationship.
With you, it seemed like magic, some crazy fast forward button on a relationship pressed. He already felt more connected to you than he had any woman he’d dated, before Sarah or after. In just a few hours, he was thinking about taking you on dates and learning your favorite foods and laughing with you on the couch. He didn’t wonder if investing time with you would be worth it, he already knew it would be and he wanted to chase that feeling so badly it hurt. He’d never forgive himself if he fucked it up by giving in to the urge to fall asleep beside you last night.
“I really like you, too,” you said quietly.
“If you’re OK with it,” he said. “You can meet my daughter - her name’s Sarah - and then I can take you home.”
“Yeah, sure,” you said, nodding slowly. “That sounds good.”
The two of you finished getting dressed and cleaned up so you didn’t look like you’d spent the night at a bar before fucking each other senseless, more creeping out of his room than walking out of it.
Sarah was perched on the couch in her candy cane printed pajama pants and matching green shirt, fluffy slippers on her feet and her springy curls going every which way, the parade on the TV and the lights on in the kitchen.
“Daddy!” Sarah’s face lit up when he saw him, something that never failed to make his heart soar. She got up and bounded over to him, bouncing full of energy the way that six-year-olds did, ready to give him the full report out. “We got pizza for dinner and I helped Mrs. Adler make pies and we watched a Christmas movie that had the parade in it but I don’t remember what it’s called…” She noticed you then, her little eyebrows drawing together as she considered you. “Who are you?”
Your eyes darted to Joel’s quickly and he took control, telling Sarah your name and calling you a friend and you smiled at her.
“Nice to meet you, Sarah,” you said, offering her your hand. She seemed pleased by that, taking it and giving it a satisfied shake before considering you further.
“Why are you here?” She asked. “My daddy doesn’t have friends and…”
“What about Uncle Tommy?” Joel frowned.
“He doesn’t count,” she rolled her eyes.
“Well,” Joel said. “I got friends and this is one of ‘em. And you know how you sometimes have sleepovers? Well… we had a sleepover last night, that’s why she’s here.”
“Oh,” she said, nodding knowingly. “Cool! Are you staying? We always have cinnamon rolls on Thanksgiving and watch the parade and…”
“Oh, honey,” Joel said but, before he had a chance to finish his thought, Mrs. Adler appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, two mugs of coffee in her hands.
“You really have to stay!” She said, rushing over and offering you and Joel each a cup. “At least for breakfast.”
She turned her attention to Joel.
“I’ve got the cinnamon rolls started,” she said. “But I had a question about something, if I can borrow you for just a moment, maybe your friend can keep the kiddo company?”
“Of course,” you smiled, looking to Sarah. “Want to watch the parade with me?”
“Yeah!” She said, giddy, before grabbing your hand and leading you to couch.
Joel left you to it, following Mrs. Adler to the kitchen where she rounded on him.
“OK tell me everything,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “How long have you been seeing her? What’s she like? How…”
“I met her last night,” Joel said, heat creeping up his neck. Mrs. Adler looked surprised which was fair. She knew that this wasn’t really his style, the curse of moving in next door to a woman who’d become like a second mother to him in the five years he’d known her, he supposed. “But she’s… I dunno. She’s amazing and… shit, I hope I didn’t just fuck things up with her, I didn’t tell her about Sarah, I meant to drive her home last night but we just…”
Mrs. Adler looked at him, her hand trying to cover the grin spreading on her face.
“Oh Joel,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his bicep. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this about a woman before.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m just… I gotta figure this out and Thanksgiving ain’t the day to do it.”
“Well,” Mrs. Adler said, peering through the doorway toward the living room and then smiling. “They look occupied enough. Take a minute, I can help you get things going in here…”
“You really don’t need to do that,” Joel said, but she waved him off.
“Please,” she said. “I would love nothing more than to see you settled and happy with a lovely young woman like that, let me do my part, OK?”
He sighed and smiled in spite of himself.
“Yeah, OK,” he said.
He started pulling things out to get the turkey in the oven - he’d done a lot of the prep in the days before, thankfully - and worked with Mrs. Adler to start getting it prepped when the timer buzzed for the cinnamon rolls.
He pulled them out and plated them, carrying the plate of them plus smaller plates to the living room for you and Sarah.
“And that’s why it’s my favorite show,” Sarah said, looking to you seriously.
“I see,” you nodded seriously in return. “It sounds very good, I’ll have to watch it.”
“You telling my friend all about Dora?” Joel asked, setting the plates on the coffee table.
“Yup!” Sarah beamed. “She said she’s never seen it but it’s the BEST show!”
“I think I do need to watch it,” you smiled at her before looking to Joel. “I need to work on my Spanish.”
“S’good for that,” he said, putting a cinnamon roll on a plate and handing it to Sarah. “Be careful, don’t drop it.”
He offered you a plate, too, and got one for himself before really settling into the couch beside you.
“I’m really…” he began but you cut him off.
“This is great,” you smiled. “Really.”
He smiled back.
“Good.”
He was up and down throughout the parade, going back and forth between getting things for dinner into the oven and spending time with you and Sarah, who seemed to be getting along swimmingly.
“Alright,” he sighed to Mrs. Adler, just as Santa came on TV as the parade ended. “I should probably get her home before…”
He heard the front door slam into the wall, loud enough that it made him flinch - a whole new appreciation for his mom’s rule about slamming doors since he became a homeowner.
“OK brother, I need me some hair of the dog!” Tommy called, Joel’s eyes going wide as he realized just what was happening.
He scrambled to the living room to find his brother standing there with his girlfriend, Maria, looking between you and Sarah, confused for a moment before smiling.
“Well would you look at that!” Tommy said, looking to Joel. “Someone got…”
“A turkey in the oven already!” Mrs. Adler cut Tommy off before he said anything inappropriate, rushing in alongside Joel. “Tommy, good to see you.”
“Mrs. Adler!” He went over to hug her. “Didn’t think I’d see you here already.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you here already,” Joel said as Tommy went to hug him, too.
“Be thankful I am,” he said. “Mom was pulling in right behind me.”
“Wait, what?” Joel pulled back from his brother, his eyes wide. “What do you mean, she said she wasn’t comin’ until two…”
“Well you know her,” Tommy shrugged. “Can’t ever leave well enough alone.”
As if on cue, Joel and Tommy’s mother came in, two large pans in hand.
“Mom!” Joel said, trying to sound only happy to see her, which was a challenge in that moment. What the fuck was she doing here two hours early? “Wasn’t expecting you quite yet, you didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to make sure there was time to get the dressing and green bean casserole in the oven,” she said, her eyes landing on you. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “And who is this?”
“Daddy’s friend!” Sarah said brightly. “She’s really cool! She hasn’t seen Dora, though.”
“It’s true,” you laughed lightly, getting up from the couch to go introduce yourself to Joel’s mother. “I am, unfortunately, very lacking in my knowledge bilingual television.”
Joel went and stood beside you as the awkward introductions were made, his mother’s mouth in a tight line as she seemed to examine you like she could tell you were wearing clothes you’d shown up in here the night before.
“Here, Mom,” Joel said, taking the pans from her. “Why don’t you sit with Sarah for a minute, I’ll get this to the kitchen…”
He gave you a look and you followed behind him. The second you were out of sight from the living room he turned to you, putting the pans on the counter.
“I am so sorry,” he said. “She wasn’t supposed to be here for another two hours, she’s…”
“It’s OK,” you laughed a little. Joel looked at you, uncertain. “Really, it’s fine. I just don’t want to crash a family party…”
“You’re not, trust me,” Joel said quickly. “My mom is just… She’s… Remember how I said she and I only really just started speaking again?”
“Yeah…”
“Well,” he sighed. “We stopped speaking when my ex got pregnant with Sarah and we decided not to get married. It wasn’t a serious relationship, we knew we didn’t want to be together forever, she didn’t want an abortion… I wasn’t expecting her to take off and not want anything to do with her daughter but… It doesn’t matter, my mom was pretty pissed that I got a girl pregnant and wasn’t planning to do the ‘right thing,’ pissed enough that she only met Sarah about six months ago. Never been to a Thanksgiving with her that wasn’t at her house, I didn’t think she’d just…”
“Joel,” you cut him off, smiling gently. “It’s fine, really. I’m so sorry about your mother, that… I can’t imagine…”
Tommy and Maria crowded into the kitchen then, too, his brother going right for the fridge.
“Didn’t you bring something?” Joel asked, brows raised.
“Got rolls,” Tommy said, holding up a bag of King’s Hawaiian.
“He’s useless,” Maria said. “There’s wine in the truck, too. So, you guys hit it off, hm?”
“Uh…” Joel said.
“Thank God,” Maria ignored him. “I need another woman around with these two. I love them but… well, you’ll see. You’re staying for dinner, right?”
She looked to Joel then, her brows raised.
“I…” you began. “Well…”
“If you don’t have other plans,” Joel said quickly. “I mean… you’re welcome to stay. If you want to stay. You don’t got to, ‘course, but…”
“I’d love that,” you said, smiling and looking relieved.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, I would.”
Joel tried not to hover in the time leading up to dinner, watching as you seemed to find you own place within his family. He caught Mrs. Adler giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Sarah giggling manically with you about something he didn’t hear, you and Maria talking conspiratorially. There was this odd warmth in his chest, one he wasn’t used to as he watched you with the people who meant the most to him in the world and how easily you fit there.
Eventually, it was dinner time, everyone gathering around the table to a turkey that Joel carved and served.
Everything was perfect.
At least, for a while.
Everyone was still sitting at the table, dinner settling happily in everyone’s stomachs, Maria’s head on Tommy’s shoulder, when Joel’s mother sat up a little straighter, an almost smug look on her face.
“It’s good to see you so happy, Tommy,” she said. “I certainly hope you two are responsible and do it right instead of the way your brother did.”
The room fell almost deathly quiet, Maria openly gaping at his mother. Sarah frowned, looking up at Joel.
“What does that mean?” She asked. “What did you do wrong, Daddy?”
“What your grandma means…” Joel began but his mom cut him off.
“I mean that you should have a mother,” she said. “And your father should have made sure you did before deciding to bring a child into the world instead of bringing home random women.”
Sarah’s little face fell and Joel could see her piecing together everything that his mother had just said.
He squared his jaw and went to tell her off but you beat him to it.
“How dare you,” you said, voice dark and low.
“Excuse me?” she asked, brows raised.
“You heard me,” you said. “But I’ll repeat it. I said ‘How dare you.’ Your son has built a beautiful life for himself and for his child. There are people who adore him and it’s easy to see why. He’s kind and he’s thoughtful and he clearly loves his daughter more than anything else which is more than I can say for you. How dare you come to a home he made after you chose to leave him to do it alone and pretend like he did anything wrong. Joel has a beautiful family with or without you and that’s what matters.”
His mother just blinked at you in shock, your chin defiantly raised as you dared her to argue with her.
“How about I get us all some pie,” Mrs. Adler said, getting up from the table. “Sarah, want to help me, honey?”
She looked to Joel for direction and he gave her a nod.
“OK,” she said, getting up slowly, following her to the kitchen.
Joel turned to his mother.
“You ever give my daughter the impression that anything about her is wrong again, you will never see either of us again,” he said. “Do you understand me?”
“You surely can’t expect me to pretend like I’m happy about…”
“I don’t really care what makes you happy,” he cut her off. “We’ve been fine without you for years. I’d like for Sarah to know her grandma but you ain’t been around long enough for her to even miss you if you’re gone again.”
“We’d be gone, too,” Tommy said, voice sharp. “Because I’m not about to spend time with anyone who hurts my niece.”
“You can learn to accept that this is my life,” Joel said. “Or you can get out of it. It’s up to you.”
His mother looked between him and his brother before she sighed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I don’t want to hurt my granddaughter I just… This isn’t what I planned for you.”
“Well,” Joel shrugged. “Plans change. And right now, I’m pretty happy that they have.”
“OK, who wants apple?” Mrs Adler appeared in the doorway, slices of pie with ice cream on plates.
“I do,” you smiled, and Mrs. Adler smiled back, bringing you a plate.
You helped do dishes after, laughing with Sarah as you flicked water at her, and Mrs. Adler stayed with his daughter before he went to take you home.
“I’m really sorry about…” he began, standing in front of your apartment door. “Well, everything today.”
“Don’t be,” you smiled. “It wasn’t a usual Thanksgiving but… it might be my favorite one I’ve had in a while.”
He smiled, too.
“Really?” He asked.
You nodded.
“Really.”
“Well, good,” he said. “Because… damn if it don’t feel like you’e given me something to be thankful for.”
He kissed you one more time, long and deep and slow.
“Think I can see you again?” He asked. “Because… well, I don’t think this is the only holiday I want to spend with you.”
“Definitely,” you said. “Because I’m pretty thankful for you, too.”
A/N: HAPPY FUCKSGIVING ONE AND ALL!
