#dbf!joel x fem!reader

[capuccinodoll]

The Holiday

Before the sun hits (chapter two)

Summary: You spend an interesting morning with Joel drinking hot chocolate.

-

DECEMBER 19TH

When you got up from bed, your parents were gone. You looked at the clock on the living room wall. 8:20 am. Outside, the snow covered almost the entire ground and the sun had barely finished rising completely. You'd been awake for at least thirty minutes and at no time had you heard them leave, so surely they had gone out earlier. Where had they gone?

You didn't think too much about it and approached the window that overlooked the entrance to the cabin. The scenery took your breath away. You and your parents arrived yesterday afternoon after a five-hour flight, and you fell in love with the place from the very first moment.  It was high tourist season, you saw them last afternoon when they'd fleetingly strolled through downtown, you being a tourist too. The quaintly decorated cafes gave off a delicious aroma of coffee, cinnamon, chocolate and apple, and all sorts of events were taking place in the local bookstores and galleries, such as movie showings at the local theater. Your mother mentioned them to you the night before; all kinds of Christmas classics would be playing and after eight o'clock, the occasional Christmas horror classics. The last part really caught your attention - seeing Black Christmas in a cozy theater in Canmore? Yes, sounded like you. 

You moved away from the window as your feet began to cool. The smell of the coffee was still fresh in the air and it didn't take you long to fill a cup and sit down at the kitchen counter.  The whole cabin looked like a fairy tale. The ceiling, with exposed wooden beams, was high, giving a sense of spaciousness without losing the intimate feel. The large windows that dominated the front walls allowed natural light to flood the room and offered a breathtaking view of the snowy outside. Through them, you could see snow-capped mountains, fir trees with white flakes on their branches, and a pale blue sky that promised a sunny day. In the living room, an L-shaped sofa upholstered in soft, light gray fabrics sat in the center, accompanied by red pillows and wool blankets. In front of the sofa, a rustic reclaimed wood coffee table held a tray of empty coffee cups. Your parents, you thought. A cozier corner was created to the side by an antique leather armchair and a floor lamp with a warm glow. Maybe you could sit there and cry a little.

You connected your phone into the TV and opened Spotify in search of the perfect song to brighten up your morning. Suspicious minds by Elvis started playing through the speakers and suddenly your body began to feel light, as if the weight of the last year was no longer in your veins. Your movements were loose and carefree, letting yourself go with the infectious rhythm of the song. You turned and jump on your heels with a wide grin on your face, arms raised, as if there was no other concern in the world but to warm up. As the music increased in intensity, your steps became bigger, almost theatrical, emulating the style of the 60's, with little hip swivels and a light laugh that escaped your lips. You moved your shoulders in a carefree manner, improvising as you sang along with Elvis' voice. Suddenly your steps stopped and you placed your hands on your chest: Oh, let our love survive, you sang, i'll dry the tears from your eyes, let's don't let a good thing die, when honey, you know i've never lied to you. 

Your feet began to move animatedly again as the pace quickened, and a cold breeze began to blow across your back, but you ignored it. Until, after a few seconds, as you turned back toward the archway leading into the hallway, you saw your parents standing in the doorway, watching you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. And right behind them... Joel, with his coat in his right hand and a suitcase in his left, looking at you in surprise. Time seemed to stand still. Your eyes widened and the music, which had been the main character before, suddenly seemed very loud, too loud. You stopped, frozen in a strange pose; your arms still raised and your legs slightly bent, completely out of place in the middle of the room. 

You straightened up and were suddenly very conscious of how you were dressed: in your Snoopy pants and an old Soundgarden t-shirt.  Your parents exchanged an amused look, trying to contain their laughter, as one of them says in a soft but playful-sounding voice: 

You quickly dropped your hands, feeling acutely aware of your Snoopy pajamas and worn Soundgarden t-shirt. Your parents exchanged a look, smirking like they couldn’t hold back their laughter any longer.

“Are you rehearsing for a show, darling?” one of them teased, their voice a gentle mockery that only made your cheeks burn hotter.

You fumbled for your phone, fingers clumsy as you turned down the volume, then retreated to the kitchen counter. Sipping your coffee, you tried to feign calm, but the cup trembled against your lips. You could only hope your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Hi, Joel,” you finally managed, aiming for casual, though you worried your voice betrayed just how rattled you felt.

He gave a slight nod, dropping his suitcase beside the sofa. He moved toward the kitchen with a familiarity that caught you off guard, turning on the faucet to wash his hands as if this were just another morning.

You hadn’t expected him to show up, and your attempt to keep cool faltered. “I thought you weren’t coming,” you blurted, trying to play it off. “I mean, it’s good to see you… if you wanted to be here.”

Your mom appeared beside you as if she’d been eavesdropping from the next room. Her sudden presence made you tense. “Your dad talked him into it, you know how he is. And don’t be rude, honey. Nobody should be alone this time of year,” she added in that gentle tone of hers, the one that left no room for argument.

You glanced at Joel quickly, worried that he might think you were upset that he was there. That wasn't the intention, but you didn't want him to misunderstand.

You glanced at Joel, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret your words as unwelcoming. That wasn’t how you meant it, but you couldn’t help the awkwardness that slipped through.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry…”

“S’okay,” Joel cut in, waving his hand dismissively, like he hadn’t noticed your clumsy words. “I know what you meant.”

But then his eyes shifted down to your pajama pants, lingering just a little too long. Of course, this was how you always ended up—making a fool of yourself in front of him. Did he have to look so good while doing it? He was wearing a dark green flannel, black jeans, and leather boots that seemed perfectly suited for him. His hair was a little messier than it had been last night, a hint of silver in his beard catching the light. He looked unreasonably handsome, like he’d just walked off the cover of a magazine for outdoorsmen.

You noticed a small heart-shaped patch between his chin and jaw, a detail you hadn't seen before, and suddenly felt an absurd urge to reach up and press your thumb there.

When your gaze flicked back up, you found him watching you—his eyes lingering over your face like he was memorizing every feature. The air between you seemed to thicken, your pulse quickening as heat rose to your cheeks. And yet, you couldn’t look away, and neither did he. For a few moments, everything felt suspended, like you might say something—anything—to break the silence. But then, your dad called out to him from the doorway.

Joel broke eye contact first, the spell snapping, and straightened up. “Coming,” he replied, and as he walked past, you caught yourself following him with your eyes, feeling a pang of something you couldn’t quite name.

You asked yourself if he would ever consider mentioning to your dad what was going on with you. Or, if at some point during his flight, the thought would have crossed his mind. But you forced yourself to stop thinking about it almost instantlyy. He had assured you that he wouldn't say anything, and, for some reason you didn't fully understand, you chose to believe him. 

*

Your mother tapped lightly on your bedroom door before pushing it open without waiting for a reply. The door creaked, her silhouette appearing in the frame with a cheerful familiarity that was always both comforting and a little intrusive.

“We're heading to the market to get some stuff. Need anything?”

You were sprawled out on the bed, limbs loose, staring up at the ceiling like it might reveal something new. It was hard to remember when you'd started doing that, letting your thoughts run away with you, drifting without purpose.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

“Alright. We’ll be back soon. Don’t fall asleep,” she added with a gentle warning as her face disappeared back into the hallway.

A few moments later, you heard the rumble of your father’s car starting up, the low murmur of their voices mingling with the crunch of snow as they left. You knew they’d come back with arms full of holiday cheer—sweets, wine, things that seemed to make their eyes light up. You understood their excitement; you weren’t so different. Canmore at Christmas was magic wrapped in snow, each corner dressed in gold lights and bright red ribbons.

Who wouldn’t love this? Only someone heartbroken, you thought dryly. But then, you almost caught yourself sounding like your mother.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was a message from Ally:

I think this is your chance to find a hot Canadian to flirt with. I've heard the rumors, y'know.

You chuckled to yourself, though the suggestion wasn’t entirely unappealing.

Just got here, lol. Haven’t met anyone yet, but we’re going out to dinner later. I’ll keep you posted.

For a moment, your mind drifted back to Liam, to the last photo you saw of him, fingers entwined with his new girlfriend’s. And the words he’d left you with before your final day at the office. Strangely, the memory didn’t sting as much anymore—it had dulled, becoming something you could almost look at from a distance.

You exhaled, pushing yourself out of bed, and rummaged through the suitcase you still hadn’t bothered to unpack. Swapping your pajamas for a white turtleneck, a soft cream sweater, and black pants, you kept your slippers on because, well, you could.

As you opened your bedroom door, you nearly collided with Joel stepping out of the room directly across from yours. You hadn’t processed this arrangement earlier—your rooms were exactly opposite, separated only by a narrow hallway.

He had just showered; damp hair brushed back in a way that was somehow both careless and careful. His beard was neatly trimmed now, taming the stray grays you'd noticed earlier. He wore a gray flannel shirt, dark slacks, and practical boots, his look somehow fitting with the cabin’s rustic charm. You, by contrast, shuffled in your slippers.

You gave him a small smile and moved down the hallway. He followed, his steps deliberate and heavy. By the time you reached the stairs, he had already turned back towards the bathroom, the echo of his footsteps fading behind you.

In front of the television, there was nothing interesting, or at least nothing familiar to you. You switched channels without much enthusiasm until a sigh of satisfaction escaped your mouth. The Holiday was on the screen, right at the scene where Cameron Diaz throws her cheating boyfriend out of the house, yelling at him from the window while throwing his clothes from the second floor. Perfect, you thought. The Holiday. The only thing you were missing was a nice cup of hot chocolate.

You moved into the kitchen, feeling a little thrill when you found the chocolate bar your mother had insisted on buying at the airport. Maybe she’d been right after all. As you heated the milk, you glanced back at the couch, where Joel had reappeared, watching the movie with an unexpected intensity. You hadn’t pegged him for the rom-com type—more of a Western or noir guy, maybe. But he seemed to know the film, his eyes following the characters across the screen.

“Do you like hot chocolate?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head slightly, his expression serious. “Too sweet, usually.”

“I can make it less sweet for you,” you offered, adding a faint smile to soften the words.

He seemed to consider it for a moment and then gave a small nod. “Okay, I’ll trust you on that.”

You poured the warmed milk into two mugs, adding three squares of chocolate to yours and just one and a half to his. You skipped the sugar—no way he’d go for that. You stirred until the chocolate dissolved into a rich swirl, then carried the mugs back to the couch. He took his with a quiet, “Thank you,” and you settled beside him, leaving a cautious space between your bodies.

“Do you like the movie?” you asked after a moment, your curiosity winning out.

He shrugged, but there was a softness to the gesture. “It’s... got its moments. Used to watch it with Sarah.”

You nodded, the detail fitting more easily than you expected. It made sense now, why he seemed a little drawn into it.

“I love the neighbor part,” you said. “The little old man.”

“I love the neighbor storyline,” you admitted. “The old writer."

“Yeah, the writer’s good,” he agreed, then fell silent, watching the TV again.

But you couldn’t help yourself, his presence pulling at something inside you. “Joel,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. His name came out unbidden, and you almost regretted it when he looked at you, brows drawing together slightly.

“I—thank you, for not saying anything to my parents. About what I told you.”

He considered this, then nodded, the movement slow and deliberate. “Wasn’t mine to tell, don't worry” he said simply, but something in his tone held a weight that made your throat tighten.

Don't worry. He looked you straight in the eye as he said it, and for some reason, it made you freeze for a few seconds longer than necessary. 

“Anyway, thank you,” you said, breaking the silence. “For listening to me, too. I'm not usually like that.”

“How?” he asked, without looking away. There was something about the calmness of his posture -chocolate mug resting on his lap, one hand resting on the armrest of the couch- that contrasted completely with the stiffness of yours: straight back, both hands clutching your mug, feet tangled together as if trying to keep yourself anchored.

“Emotional, in an exaggerated way.”

He straightened a little, taking your answer seriously.

“I get it,” he murmured, ”though I'm not sure you were exaggerating.”

“What d'you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual as you watched him bring the cup to his lips. The fact that he took another sip made you feel an unexpected sense of relief, as if the success of your chocolate was somehow relevant to that conversation.

“I mean your motives make sense,” he replied, before the television screen drew your attention. Kate Winslet was sobbing on screen, her character’s heartbreak mirroring your own too neatly. Joel’s gaze lingered on your face, his eyes scanning you as if searching for something beyond words.

Joel looked at you, pursing his lips slightly, almost as if he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it.

You tried to make a joke out of it. “It’s funny, right? The timing?”

He smiled, the corner of his mouth quirking upward, but he looked down as if to hide it. “Yeah. It’s a little funny.”

“I don't want to butt in too much,” he began cautiously, ”but I get the feeling that boy doesn't deserve the crying.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, surprised by his unexpected statement.

“I just feel it.”

"How?"

"I just do."

“You could try to convince me,” you said, half joking, half serious. “I've been feeling ridiculous about this for the last whole month.”

Joel let out a deep sigh, sinking back into the couch, his shoulders loosening. He raised the cup to his lips, the steam curling up between you, almost like it created its own fragile barrier. His usually guarded eyes seemed a little sharper, as if he was sorting through his thoughts, deciding which ones to share.

“How long were you two together?” he asked finally. His voice was softer than usual, but steady.

“Seven months,” you replied, bracing yourself for his reaction.

He frowned, his expression crinkling with something close to concern or frustration. And it struck you then, how natural that look seemed on his face, like it belonged there.

“And when did you break up?” He held your gaze, waiting for you to continue.

“Three weeks ago.”

He paused, considering this, then asked, “And how long had he been seeing the other woman?”

You hesitated, feeling a familiar sting in your chest, but you pressed on. “I found out about a month ago. But honestly, I’m not sure when it started.”

His frown deepened, shadows settling in the lines of his face. There was a flicker of something behind his eyes—anger, maybe, or some unspoken frustration on your behalf. And despite the ache that came with telling him all of this, you couldn't deny the small, guilty satisfaction that he cared enough to be bothered by it.

“When did he get engaged?” His words came out slower now, like he was struggling to keep his disbelief in check.

“Last Friday,” you murmured, the memory fresh and bitter on your tongue.

“Last Friday?” He blinked, eyebrows knitting together, genuinely thrown. “You mean... like, right after you broke up?”

You nodded, watching him as he processed the timeline. He dragged a hand over his mouth, then licked his lips, as if trying to choose the right words—ones that wouldn’t be too harsh, even if they probably deserved to be.

Finally, he spoke again, his tone quieter but no less direct. “He doesn’t deserve any of those tears, you know. No one does.”

Something about the way he said it landed with you—his voice so matter-of-fact, so assured that it cut through the dull ache in your chest, striking deeper, in a way that was both comforting and disarming. It wasn’t a question or a gentle suggestion; it was a statement, one that left no room for doubt.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. It felt as if any sentence you might have tried to form would have crumbled halfway through. And he seemed to understand that immediately. He held your gaze, a faint crease of worry settling into his brow. For a moment, it seemed like he was about to say something else, maybe push further, but then the front door flew open, and your parents’ voices filled the space.

The moment broke, and he glanced away as if the sudden noise had snapped him back to the present. You felt his fingers graze your arm, just barely, as he shifted on the couch. You glanced at the spot where his touch had lingered, not sure if it had been a gesture of comfort or just an accident. But when you looked back up, he was still watching you, his concern barely masked.

You forced a smile, and he returned it, though his expression remained unconvinced.

Your mother swept into the room like a whirlwind, her laughter echoing against the walls as your dad set down bags of groceries on the kitchen counter nearby. She glanced between you and Joel, her eyes lighting up with something that looked suspiciously like satisfaction.

“I love seeing you two hanging out together!” she said brightly, her excitement bubbling over. “See, honey? I told you we needed that chocolate.”

You gave a small nod, taking the last sip of your hot chocolate. Joel did the same beside you, his cup now almost empty.

“What do you guys say to taking a walk around town later? The fair is in full swing, and there are all kinds of goodies,” your mother suggested, practically bouncing on her toes.

A pair of hands rested on your shoulders, your dad’s familiar warmth pressing into you, followed by a gentle kiss on the top of your head. It was a gesture that grounded you, something solid amidst the mess of emotions.

“Sounds perfect to me,” he said, glancing over at Joel. “And Joel and I can finally get those beers he promised me. What do you say, Miller?”

Joel tilted his head, offering a faint smirk—just a hint of something roguish in his expression, and it sent an unexpected shiver through you. How did he manage to stir so many conflicting feelings in you, all at once?

“Sounds good to me, Evans,” he replied with that casual tone that always seemed to catch you off guard.

You got up from the couch, slipping away under the pretense of putting your empty mug in the sink. As you moved into the kitchen, you busied yourself checking the contents of the fridge, smiling at the sight of your favorite foods, thoughtfully picked out by your parents. And some things you didn’t recognize—probably Joel’s, adding a new layer of domesticity to this strange new dynamic.

With them still chatting, you stole a chance to slip back upstairs, seeking the quiet of your room. The familiar comfort of your bed wrapped around you as you lay back, staring out the window. The view was breathtaking: the snow-covered mountains, the trees standing tall under the clear sky. It was the kind of beauty that tugged at something deep inside, something that made you want to cry, but in a different way than before. A better way. Joel’s words echoed in your mind. Maybe the mountains deserved your tears. Maybe the snow. The sun, absolutely. And the moon, too.

A soft knock broke the stillness, and you peeled yourself off the mattress to answer. The door creaked open just a sliver, revealing Joel leaning against the frame, closer than you’d expected.

“Joel? Did something happen?”

He hesitated for a beat, then shook his head. “No,” he said, voice low, almost sheepish. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I feel like... maybe I was a little insensitive earlier, down there.”

You stared at him, taken aback by the admission. A warmth spread through your chest, seeping into every corner as you realized he meant it. A smile pulled at your lips before you could stop it.

“It’s all right, really. I promise,” you said, your voice softer than you’d intended.

“You sure?” He narrowed his eyes, studying you, and there was something about the way he looked at you then—like he was trying to figure out if you were telling the truth.

From that angle, you could get a good look at him, the way his dark eyes studied you. From above, and you below. His gaze moving as it did in the kitchen; slowly across your features. What could be going through his head? You didn't know. But you did know what was going on in yours, and it wasn't anything pure. So you looked at his lips and felt that extending that attention for more than a second was daring, but you did it anyway. And something throbbed in you.

“So sure,” you said, managing to sound steady.

He nodded, pulling back ever so slightly. His gaze flicked over you one last time, as if memorizing the way you looked at that moment, then he stepped back.

“Okay,” he agreed at last. “See you in a bit, then.”

As he left and you closed the door, a strange sensation began to form in your entire body and suddenly, Canmore began to take on a very, very different tinge. 

[survivingandenduring]

Damn! They had an actual kinda meaningful conversation!!??? ffffffffffffffeelings 😫

Definitely ruin Easter. RUIN IT.

Also the Plushies Joel ref was 👌

Please Stay, Mr. Miller...

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Previous part here: Valentines Day

Summary: Damn, mattress stores have good deals of presidents day- oh fuck

Warnings: PIV sex, unsafe cream pie, fighting. Mild man handling. some pushing/ smacking from reader but it's pretty soft on Joel's chest. Feeling (ew) big old age gap (2X age)

Immersivity: Reader is fem, dresses very feminine. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap. Joel can pick up reader and is taller than her.

AN/this is the most ridiculous concept lol but I thought it was funny to do Presidents’ Day after all these actual holidays lololololol anyway fuck all the us Presidents

*********

Of course. Of course you couldn’t fucking escape him.

Less than a week after the humiliating Valentine’s Day ordeal, you would find him at the same goddamn furniture store. Goddamn President’s Day mattress sales. You were trying to get out of the store, but Joel kept almost cornering you. You didn’t think he’d seen you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.  Unfortunately, you had walked yourself into a corner, and you when you saw him wondering over you scrambled to hide under a bed display. It did not work.

“Hey.”

“AH!” You jump at the sound of his voice, bonking your head on the frame.

“Shit, you okay?”

You turn and see him knelt down on the floor, bent over with one hand braced on the bed. 

“I’m fine.” You mutter, but he doesn’t leave.

“Can we talk?”

The last thing you wanted to do. 

“No.”

Joel said your name sternly, and despite the tight squeeze under the bed, you cross your arms. 

“Fine.”

“You gonna make me do this down here?” He speaks in a fatherly tone like he was speaking to a petulant child. He definitely had a daughter. “Fine.” He huffed and puffed but laid down beside the bed. After a moment of silence, he spoke first when you refused to look at him. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I’m fine!” You said, not finely.

His voice was slightly sharper. “Look, if you wanna be a fucking brat-”

You didn’t hear the rest, rolling out the other side of the display. Joel tried to catch you, reaching out but he was too big to fit. 

Unlucky for you, you really needed a mattress and this was the last day of the deal.

“ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR DELIVERY?” They should advertise that along with the deal. WTF. 

“Sorry miss, I don’t make the rules.”

You sigh, then apologize to the worker. He does not make the rules. “Fine, fine… it’s still a deal… fine.”

A broad body was behind you. “We’ll take it home, thank you.”

Joel. “No, Joel-”

“I’ll pull my truck up. Behave.” 

He knew behave would get you, and you didn’t argue.

*

You watched Joel carry the mattress in your apartment, setting it down against a wall in your bedroom. 

He stares at your bed for the first time, pink frilly blankets and bed skirt, stuffies and soft pillows littering the bed. “You didn’t get your bed ready for a new mattress?” 

You huff, picking up your stuffed animals and placing them on the windowsill. Joel tries to help, but you rip your elephant out of his hands. “Don’t! You’ll get your man germs on her!”

Joel scoffs at that, crossing his arms. “You didn’t care about my man germs when I fucking you.”

You throw your pillows on the floor. They were not as precious as your stuffies and dolls. “Your gross, Joel. You’d probably fuck my teddy if you had the chance!” 

Joel catches your arm, holding it up and forcing you to look at him. “You’re throwing a fucking tantrum! Stop acting like a child!”

You immediately break down sobbing. Joel’s heart breaks to see you like that and drops your wrist. “Hey, hey sweetheart…” he’s tender now. “Hey, baby girl” He takes your chin in his hand, gently guiding it to look at him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He didn’t think so, he barely had any grip but he wanted to make sure. He never ever wanted to hurt you in a way you didn’t like.

“No.” You sob, standing there in a pink shirt and white skirt, looking so goddamn.

Joel is not immune to a crying girl. “Oh god, princess, c’mere” Joel scooped you up in his arms and you wrapped your legs around him as he sat on the bed. 

“C’mon, princess, why are you crying?”

You sniffle. “You don’t want me.”

“I- what? Baby who told you that?”

“You did!” You shove at his shirt. “You invited me over on a day for romance just for sex, wearing sweats, Joel. SWEATS! I was in a fancy dress looking like an IDIOT”

Frustrated, you try to push away, but Joel grabs your hands, turning you over until he’s pinning you on the bed. “Princess.” His voice was low and dark. “Your my friend’s kid, I am twice your age-”

Your lip quivers. “I know. I know I’m just a silly girl and there’s no reason you should want me for anything other than sex-”

Joel pressed kiss into your mouth, shutting you up. “You hush now, let me speak.” He waited until you nodded. “I ain’t mean it like that. I mean. I don’t know what you would want with a man my age.”

You look up from him where you are still pressed down on the bed, his eyes dark on yours and hardening cock pressed against your pelvis. “A lot, actually.”

His eyebrow raised at you. “Oh? Like?”

You nod. “I wanna… I wanna go one dates. Real dates. Because I like spending time with you. Not just when we fuck but I mean… when you come over to my dads and we all have fun together. I wanna play connect four with you… and I wanna rub your back when it hurts… I W- I wanna” tears pool in your eyes again. “I wanna sleep with you, actually sleep. Like over night… that's what I want with you…”

Searching your eyes, Joel blinked as he watched you. “You want that? What about your dad?”

“I don’t care. I just want you.”

With that, Joel kissed you. It was deep and hard and desperate for touch. You hadn’t even been apart a week but he felt the hole in his heart. You didn’t answer his texts or his calls, and he missed your tight little pussy but he missed talking to you more.

“Fuck me” You pant breathless, undoing the buttons of his jeans and yanking them down. “I’m fucking wet, just fuck me”

“Don’t wanna-”

“You won’t hurt me.” 

Entering you again was like coming home, sliding his shaft into your wetness had Joel’s eyes rolling back, groaning out your name. His shutters at the heat, your own breath gasping in. when he fucks you, you can feel it in your stomach, hell, you can feel it in your throat the wy your heart leaps up with every thrust. It’s dizzying, his presence; the stretch inside and your body making room for him was all consuming. 

“J-Joel” You whimper, shaky and gasping for breath already. 

“Give it to me, babygirl. Fuck’n give it to me…” He grunts, shirt still on as are most of your clothes, having only taken off your panties.

You cum as he fills you, continue to pump inside you through his own high, a load moan from his lip as his full weight collapses into you.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms and legs around him again.

“Please stay, Mr. Miller…”

********

Man is the next holiday Easter? Maybe we should ruin Easter 🐣 👀👀

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra@ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

[salingers]

october's end.

dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller. [you get him to briefly wear a ghostface mask]. [enjoy that! i did]. warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap. alcohol. au. begging. cream pie. dirty talk. dom!joel. fingering. jealous!joel. language. masked!joel. no outbreak. no use of 'y/n'. praising. smut. use of 'good girl'. use of 'slut'. unprotected piv. word count: [about] 3,800. a/n: hi! debut, written for @mermaidgirl30's halloween writing challenge. cover by me, divider by @saradika. @saradika-graphics.

Everything’s bigger in Texas, including Halloween. Your childhood neighborhood is locally televised each October’s end, due to every home’s enthusiastic participation. There’s an annual stoppage of traffic for the singular evening’s festivities, permitting only costumed bodies to roam the gated community’s residential roads. 

Branches draped in gauzy webs. Yards engulfed in artificial fog. A beloved holiday tradition, predating the tailend of the seventies, when Dad and Joel were elementary aged and wielding pillowcases of candies. Now, they’re fifty-somethings, bemoaning mutual back pain and cursing pesky lawn decorations.

“Here,” Joel gruffs, while individually sliding Dad two Reese’s pumpkins, from across the kitchen’s counter. “Protein break. ‘S four grams.”

Dad swipes them both up, before confirming that statement by thumbing one’s wrapper, “That ain’t bad.”

You’re quietly laughing at their supposed refueling, while stooping behind the fridge’s door and scanning the moistened shelves. There. A seasonal beer, from your favorite brewery in Austin. It’s comfortably predictable, returning home for Halloween; From Dad purchasing your favorite autumnal ales, to Joel Miller’s ruggedness.

You properly right yourself. Then, using your waist, nudge the appliance’s door shut, “Dad, where’s your bottle opener?”

Dad’s phone abruptly drones, reverberating against granite and interrupting your question; He grimaces at the caller’s illuminated identity.

You guess, “Ghostface?”

Dad laughs, before emphasizing, “Worse. My neediest client.” He abandons his barstool, continuing, “Actin’ like buildin’ up in Waco makes ‘er Joanna Gaines.” Dad apologetically nods toward you, “Joel. Will ‘ya?”

Joel’s scruffy chin tips upwards, directing you, “C’mere.”

Something’s brewing, once Dad vacates the vicinity. Your forced proximity to Joel is newly palpable; Tonight’s different. You’re obedient, in approaching him. Joel doesn’t stop staring. The bottle’s neck is being strangled, under your dominant hand. You can’t completely ward off an image of taking him into your palm.

Your minimal passage to his barstool seemed slow-motioned, almost. You’re not sure. Time’s just apparently lengthier, under Joel’s browned gaze.

 Joel grunts, fingering his carabiner of keys, attempting to sift out his bottle opener keychain, “You playin’ Michael Meyers, ‘gain? ‘Round one night, only?”

You amusedly scoff, “Keepin’ track?”

Joel shrugs, “Eight days, in eight years.”

You’re genuinely surprised that Joel’s noted your absence. Maybe, Dad revealed that specific number, correlating to your sparse appearances in Austin; Well, it could’ve been that Dad mentioned to Joel about how since your high school’s graduation, you’ve only managed to visit home yearly. That’s just basic math. Right?

You stammer, “Uh huh. ‘S my favorite holiday.”

Joel hums, before abruptly wrapping his calloused palm around the entirety of your hand and the beer bottle’s width, “Hm. ‘N that your favorite beer?”

You’re momentarily silent, muted by Joel’s warmth. A sizable hand, roughened from decades of hard labor. The tips of his delectably thick fingers begin tightening at your wrist, securing his hold as he’s standing himself up.

Even fully seated, Joel’s intimidating in size. Him standing toe-to-toe with you? That’s another story. His construction boots are weathered and worn; They would be comically large, in comparison to your measly-sized sneakers, but nothing’s funny about Joel Miller’s body mere inches from yours.

You reply by mustering an eager nod; And, whether that’s in response to Joel’s prior question pertaining your liking of the beer, or merely an approval of his nearness to you? You haven’t decided.

Joel rasps, “Anythin’ else?” He’s pulling your combined hands downward, to his waist. The carabiner’s remained attached to his belt’s loop, “That ‘ya favor?”

You’re struggling to think of something witty to retort. Because, the frayed seam of Joel’s zipper is right there. He’s deftly notching the bottle’s cap inside of the opener’s teeth; The beer crisply hisses, releasing any contained pressure.

Joel whispers, “What, darlin’? Bat got your tongue?”

You defeatedly laugh, “Somethin’ like that.”

He grins, carefully releasing you, “Taste it.”

You harshly gulp, “S–Sorry? Oh, right. T–The beer.” 

Joel agrees, “That’s right.” Then, darkly teases, “Y’know, that pretty mind ‘a yours is boundin’ for the gutter.”

He crosses his arms against his broad chest, the canvas fabric of his Carhartt jacket drawing taut. Joel’s now cocking his head, sending his gaze along the pathway from the glass vessel that you’re feebly holding, to the lower lip that you’re inadvertently biting; Daring you.

You’re feignedly bold, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You drink, even if it’s primarily to keep yourself from further stuttering. At first, it’s an adequate enough distraction; The alcohol’s frigid in temperature, soothing to the high-strung tendons of your throat, from the inside-out. Then, you’re curiously drawn to Joel’s own gulping throat, and that transient composure of yours is gone.

Joel’s devotedly watching you, his glare heady and sensual. His Adam’s apple jerks, moving atop the clenched muscles and corded veins of his neck. You’re somewhat tipping back, gathering your final mouthful, for now; You’ve drained three-fourths of it, by the time that you’ve halted your sipping.

Then, Joel’s thumb darts out, before smoothing against your glistening mouth. He drawls, “Got it lookin’ real good. Let’s see.”

You’re only narrowly audible, “Oh? Joel.” 

Joel’s tongue, deliciously large and scrubbed pink, strokes his finger. He groans, “Mm. Ain’t sure. Need ‘t sample it from the source.”

You inwardly whimper, “Yeah?”

You’re foolishly tempted to extend him the ambered bottle itself, because surely Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, would identify that as the ‘source’. Not your parted, wanting lips. Like Joel’s read your hesitant mind, he reassuringly pins your hands behind your back, easily dismissing the beer; A singular hand of his own, dwarfing the pair of your wrists.

Joel’s ghosting your lips, “Yeah.”

For good measure, Joel lightly moans, sucking his dampened digit. Humming around the pumpkin spiced suds, lapping up any residual taste from his finger. Arms restrained, spine straightened; Your chest’s rising urgently.

Joel’s own chest, delicately hairy below his threadbare t-shirt, is an odd inch away. A desperate heat’s begun permeating your lower abdomen; Achingly unfurling, taking up residency in your cunt.

Of course, it’s then that Dad’s barrelling over, having withdrawn from his nearby office, “Sorry ‘bout that, kid. Get ‘er open?”

You’re coughing out, “Y–Yep.” Then, “Thanks, Joel.”

Dropping your wrists, Joel winks, “Oh. ‘M pleasure.”

Your incriminating closeness to Joel goes unrecognized by Dad; Seeing as, Joel’s wide shoulders completely obscure you from view.

Dad sighs, “Gee, there ain’t no escapin’ this shiplap.”

Joel immediately laughs, casually reclaiming his prior barstool. The jarring segue from Joel’s flirting with you, to his joking with Dad, is absolutely disorientating. You’re fidgeting, repeatedly and silently tapping your foot. You can’t do Joel here; You’ll settle for doing last-minute Halloween preparations.

You blurt, “Goin’ to start organizin’ the candy. ‘S all in the garage, Dad?”

Dad assuredly nods, “Sure is. ‘Cept these.” He chuckles, gathering the forgotten wrappers from his earlier ‘protein break’ with Joel.

You remind him, “Don’t forget to refill the fog tanks.”

Dad, who seemingly had forgotten, regretfully snaps his fingers, “What would I do without ‘ya?” He’s bragging to Joel, “Look at ‘er.”

Joel agreeably nods. Eyeing you, “Good girl.”

Because, Dad and Joel are career contractors, who are simultaneously life-long friends and next-door neighbors, it’s only right that they’ve done an elaborate, joint Halloween for three decades; Locally dubbed the ‘Construction Fright’.

A (questionably) age-appropriate spread of horror, featuring thrifted tools that bludgeon and dismember an assortment of plastic skeletons. Hard hats, faux-bloodied and stabbed with rusted nails. Construction tape, riddled in spiderwebs.

A half-dozen, battered wheelbarrows, brimming with chocolate candies; Three brown ones, carrying Hershey’s, Rolo, and Tootsie Roll. Three orange ones, containing every imaginable variant of Reese’s. 

 You’ve already been working for nearly an hour; Arranging the color-coordinated barrows of candy. You’re jamming the recycling bin’s lid shut, overtop the cardboard and plastic wrappings of king-sized bars, when the entry door’s opened.

Dad’s entering the garage, “Sun’s settin’ soon, kid. ‘Oughta get dressed.” He lazily squeezes you in an impromptu side-hug, “Thanks, for helpin’.”

You breathily sigh, “Mhm. Oh, I need ‘t light the Jack-O-Lanterns.”

Joel appears, insisting,  “Go on, darlin’. I’ll get ‘em sweatin’ for ‘ya.”

You’re thinking, ‘That’s ridiculously slutty of him to say’, when Joel continues, this time addressing Dad, “Hey. Phone’s ringin’ over ‘gain.”

Dad sighs, “Got ‘t be kiddin’ me.” Then, grumbles, “Sure hopin’ it’s Ghostface.” He grins, lightly pinching your elbow.

You giggle, “C’mon. She can’t be that bad.”

Dad shrugs, smiling before swiftly jogging up the garage’s concrete steps; When Dad’s fully retreated inside, and the door’s naturally swung shut, Joel doesn’t waste any time pinning your body against it.

Joel whispers, “Bet ‘ya find that this pussy’s wet ‘f me, when you’re undressin’ it.” His jeaned, muscular thigh’s nudging your legs ajar.

You airily groan, “P–Please. Fuckin’ kiss me.”

Joel grins, wedging his ample thigh’s sturdy surface against your beating cunt. He kisses you; Joel Miller fuckin’ kisses you. He’s grabbing your face, thumbing your cheekbones. His lengthy fingers, scraping your skull.

His tongue’s deeply delving, eagerly exploring your mouth’s every crevasse. You can’t breathe efficiently or think coherently. Everything’s Joel. His graying beard, raking your chin; A woodsy scent, like that of the hardware store’s lumber aisles, exuding from his clothing.

You’re moaning, “Ngh.” Then, ripping at the silvery hair that’s curling against the nape of his sun-freckled neck, “More.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck. Need ‘t stop.” He can’t stop, and sucks your bottom lip, once more. Then, “H–Hear ‘im? He’s gainin’ on us.”

Sure enough, Dad’s approaching. It’s damn-near impossible to quit rutting along Joel’s denimed, upper leg. You’re whining, “Need ‘ya.”

Joel’s panting, “T–Tonight, darlin’.” He arousingly whispers, “All night. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.” Then, darker and deeper, “Repeat it.”

You repeat, “Tonight. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.”

You’re admittedly distracted, during the evening’s trick-or-treating segment. You understand that nothing’s allowed to appear awry around Dad, but Joel’s playing casual too well. You shouldn’t overthink, but it’s torturous; That he’s apparently unaffected. Drinking with Dad and Tommy. Never really staring at you.

Joel’s (conveniently) costumed as himself every Halloween, but himself during working hours; A leathered tool belt, cinching his tender waist. A backwards Filson hat, tamping his unkempt curls. His dirtiest ‘white’ t-shirt; The neckline’s absurdly tattered and torn, an array of holes displaying his body’s coarse hair.

Midland’s country cover of ‘Wicked Game’ is emitting from neighboring speakers. You can’t resist likening the song’s drumming pattern to your own heart’s pulsating rhythm; Yearning for Joel’s attention. Then, Dad’s whistling for your attention.

Dad’s pointing, “Look, kid. Your ‘ol boyfriend, Nick. He’s fuckin’ Ghostface.” Dad humorously roars, standing, “See ‘im? H–Hold on.”

You’re avidly protesting, but Dad’s already approaching Nick, who’s not wearing, but holding his hooded mask; Fingers cupping the elongated, rubbery chin. There’s nothing inherently wrong about him; He (morally) should be your holiday hook-up, not your dad’s best friend. It’s too bad.

Joel snipes, “Dick?”

You tut, “It’s Nick.”

Joel’s feigning understanding, “Oh, Prick.”

You’re unsure what’s initiated this potent sexual tension, but it’s consumed your every thought this Halloween; While, Joel’s every word is loaded. His irritated sarcasm’s gunned your way. Any bickering’s uncommon, for the pair of you. You’re hoping that Tommy’s too busy proffering candy to notice.

Dad’s returned, towing Nick, “Weren’t we just talkin’ ‘bout him, kid? So funny.” Dad, and his dorky penchant for inside-jokes.

Nick cluelessly smiles, “Hi, you.”

You politely reply, “Hi, yourself.”

Nick’s extending his hand, summoning you from your designated seat, “Got ‘t see this costume.” Then, he’s declaring you, “Stunning.”

You’re incredulously laughing, “They’re bloodied overalls.”

Nick grins, persisting, “Love ‘em. Also, this apron’s awesome.” He’s thumbing your accessory’s front, tracing the logo, “Carhartt girl, huh?”

You’re aiming to get under Joel’s skin with, “Scream girl, too.” You inspect Nick’s black robe, feeling his arm’s draping sleeve.

Oh, Joel Miller’s jealous. He’s rolling his earthy-toned eyes; Aggressively peeling his beer’s damp label, while instigating Dad, “Hearin’ this?”

Dad’s indifferent, shrugging. He’s always approved of Nick for you; He’s Texan, and plays Minor League Baseball. That’ll do it.

Nick’s pleading, “Let’s please walk ‘round, sweep the neighborhood?”

Joel snarks, “Hell. Reckon he’s recruitin’ for Neighborhood Watch?”

Nick’s nervously smiling, having not heard Joel’s dig, but surely hearing Dad and Tommy’s abrupt snickering.

You kindly respond, “Let’s. Love seein’ the decorations.”

It’s nine-thirty. Your street’s grown habitually sparse; Toddlers, having resigned to stringent bedtimes. Teens, having retreated to erupting parties.

You decipher Joel’s looming silhouette; His rocking chair’s creaking, upon the dimmed porch’s planks. A gleaming tumbler of (presumably) whiskey is resting against his crossed leg, the glass winking at you.

Joel’s dragging his index finger’s edge against his groomed mustache, thumbing his angrily tightened jaw. He rasps, “Ain’t walk ‘ya home?” 

You’re ascending his porch’s tread, “Didn’t need that. Told ‘im so.” Then, untying your apron’s chaotic knot, “Uncross your leg, Joel.”

Joel’s pleasingly pliant; He warns, “That’s the only order that I’m takin’ tonight.” His lap’s deliciously spreading, “Get ‘t drawin’ the blinds.”

The anticipation’s wetting you. You’re immediately scampering along the porch’s perimeter, rolling down every privacy blind; Joel’s patiently swigging his auburn liquor. You whimper, “A–Anythin’ else?”

Joel’s rolling the wick of his adjacent kerosene lantern; Thrusting his opened lap, scrounging his Zippo lighter from an anterior pant pocket. His hand’s arousingly veined, while flicking the lighter’s flint wheel.

He belatedly replies, “Drop your apron. Undo your overalls.”

You’ve dropped the apron, and something’s spilling out from the largest pocket; Joel’s deeply exhaling, “Explain that.”

The lamp’s emitting faint light, fire illuminating his hardening expression. He’s so scarily sexy. You’re inching nearer, but Joel hoists his palm, stopping you.

You embarrassedly gulp, “N–Nick’s mask. Asked me ‘t hold it. He never wore it.”

Joel’s impatient, waving, “And?”

You’re tentatively unhooking your denimed straps, gently uttering, “W–Would ‘ya? Wear it?”

Joel’s mildly surprised, “Oh?” Deciding, “Bring it here. On your knees.”

You instantly kneel, before gathering up the discarded disguise using your teeth. You’re crawling to Joel, crossing the porch’s dully-lit surface. The bib upon your overalls undone; The garment’s buckling loops clinking.

Joel involuntarily moans, “Ngh. Dirty fuckin’ girl.” His index finger’s pumping from his balled up fist, signaling you.

Your pussy’s thumping, because of his commanding, curling digit. You’re itching to suck it. You need anything of Joel’s inside of you.

You’ve gradually reached Joel; You’re being caged in-between his lengthy legs. Joel forcibly pinches your face, removing the mask from your bite’s grasp. The item’s resultantly spat, against his abutted groin.

He’s astonished at the filthy sight, rustling, “How ‘bout that.” You’re resting on your haunches, while Joel praises, “Good girl.”

Joel’s abruptly leaning downward, before hungrily lifting your body’s entirety along his own. He’s immediately kissing you, sinking against the rocking chair’s curved spine; The porch’s cedar ground sighs, creakily duetting with Joel’s groans.

You’re practically siphoning the remnant whiskey from his tongue’s cushioned pad; Your mouth’s rabidly sucking, while your waist’s desperately grinding.

Joel’s bypassing your denimed, disoriented trousers; His palm’s greedily grasping your back’s arched column. His remaining arm, ladling your ass. Then, Joel’s effortlessly hauling your goosebumped figure upward; The rocking chair’s momentum being an assistant. The mask’s wedged in-between your upright bodies.

Joel breathes, “T–The lamp. Hang tight.” You’re licking Joel’s partially bearded throat; He’s briefly hunching, responsibly lowering the wick, consequently extinguishing the flame. Your quartet of limbs, wrapping his flexing torso.

You’re whispering, “You’re so big and strong, Joel.”

He amusedly sighs, “Yeah?” Promising, “Ain’t seen nothin’.”

Then, Joel’s roughly stamping your body against the front door’s exterior; His bulge swelling, pinning your pussy. The entry knob’s blindly twisted. Joel’s heavy-footed steps are reverberated, crunching his home’s metallic threshold.

First, Joel carelessly clears his entry way’s waist-heighted table. Juggling you, while his tanned arm’s sweeping everything off; A ceramic, coffee-stained mug of loose change’s completely shattered. Second, Joel harshly kicks his anterior door shut; There’s an impressive boot print, left behind.

Joel’s panting, “Tell me ‘t stop?”

You’re begging, “K–Keep goin’.”

He hums, “Hm. Need it, darlin’?” Joel’s hurriedly planting you upon the table’s cleared crest, kissing your nodding throat. Agreeing, “Yeah. You do.”

It’s dizzyingly hot; Joel gruffly ripping off your mussed overalls, easily tugging off your slip-on sneakers. He’s lobbing them across the room, away from the mess of coins and shards. You’re noticing the Ghostface mask, under his unmoving bicep.

Joel’s noticing you, “This what ‘ya want?” He’s hesitantly thumbing the mask’s gaping jaw. “Ain’t scared?”

You quietly say, “Like ‘t be scared.” You’re reaching upward, prying off his hat; His hair’s deliciously gray and tousled. “Here.”

Joel’s flinging his accessory away. Then, handing you the hooded, horror mask, “Go ‘head.” He warns, “Wearin’ it ‘till you’re comin’. Understand?”

You’re stroking his untidy hair, readying him, “Won’t be long.” You murmur, “S–Soppin’ for ‘ya.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck’s sake.” Kissing you, in-between threatening, “Filthy. ‘Oughta edge ‘ya. Talkin’ like that.”

He impatiently rings your wrists; You’re positioning the mask properly overhead. The draping fabric’s hitting Joel’s colossal shoulders. 

Your pulse’s hammering, “Oh.”

The mask’s milky-colored expression, surveying you. Stark, against the setting of Joel’s unlighted home. His index finger’s impulsively traveling your body; Dragging over your bottom lip’s dampened flesh. Then, carnally downard, riding your throat. Fingering your jugular’s delicate divet. Hooking your undershirt’s airy collar.

Joel’s taunting, “Heart’s racin’.”

You’re anguishly rutting against his console table’s lacquered top. You need to be touched. You beg, “J–Joel. Oh, Joel.”

Joel’s eerily tilting his head, “Pussy’s racin’ like that, too?” Whispering, “Ain’t it?”

You’re deliriously horny, “Yes.”

He’s humming, “Hm. Shirt’s got ‘t go, first.” His unoccupied hand’s rummaging his hind pocket, while, “Reckon that my knife’ll work?”

You’re pleading, “C–Cut it off.”

Then, Joel’s brandishing his utility knife. The blade’s expertly flicked outward. He urges, “Try ‘t hold still.”

Joel Miller’s carving your fucking shirt; His blade’s blunt edge skimming your sternum. He’s effortlessly halved it, forging an impromptu vest. He’s instantaneously shoving the garment overtop your rigid shoulders.

The knife’s frigid handle brushes your tapered nipple; Joel’s awaiting permission, hovering your underwear’s waistline. You’re nodding, kneading his large shoulders. His finger’s hitching the material, before his blade’s cutting it.

Snipping the remaining side, Joel grunts, “Cunt need stuffin’?” He’s pocketing your saturated underwear and his retracted knife, “I know it’s wet ‘nough to take two fingers.”

You’ve been fantasizing about Joel entering you all Halloween. And, finally; He does. He’s groaning, “S–Swallowin’ both of ‘em. ‘Jus like that?”

Your angling head’s hitting the paneled wall. You’re obscenely squelching around his battering digits. You belatedly respond, “JoelJoelJoelJoel.”

Joel’s roughened wrist’s repeatedly rubbing your beating clit. You’re clenching speechlessly around him, innately meeting every re-entry. Your spine’s warming; Your stomach’s taut.

Your arousal’s watering his driving hand; His palm’s pooling. Joel’s incessantly steady. Praising, “Comin’ up. Doin’ good.”

You’re gasping, “There. Oh, right there.”

The instant that you’re coming, Joel’s yanking off his hindering mask. His beard’s patchy and sweaty. He grins, “Man ‘a my word.”

Then, Joel’s amused mouth’s pounding upon your own; He’s desperately inhaling your breaking moans. Licking your teeth’s underside. 

You’re abundantly squirting, as Joel’s uncorking your cunt. Your spotting vision’s correcting leisurely. You’re languidly sighing; Breathing deeply.

He’s genuinely insane for drinking you from his cupped palm. Then, Joel’s mouthing his soggy fingers; Hitting knuckle. You’re blurting, “Need ‘t fuck.”

Joel’s arching his aging brow; Rasping, “Ask nicely.” Then, he’s towing your body overtop his broad shoulder. Spanking you, “Greedy fuckin’ girl.”

You’re nakedly suspended, Joel’s bicep rippling below your ass. He’s entering his living room; Carefully placing you across his cognac-colored sectional. You’re propping upon the chaise’s leathered cushions. You whine, “Please, Joel.”

Joel’s tutting, “Better’n that.” 

You supply, “Pretty please?”

He’s gradually moving nearer; His denim-clad shins, butting the couch’s edge. Joel’s unhurriedly thumbing his belt’s loop, painfully prolonging his removing it. You’re wetting and writhing against his furniture’s fabric.

Joel’s unimpressed, “C’mon.”

Shedding his accessory; Working his zipper. His acting arm’s so freckled, tanned, veined. Joel’s yanking his t-shirt overhead, before subsequently revealing an appetizing, softened tummy. His happy trail’s graying and wiry.

You’re begging, “Joel. Please.”

He’s winking, “Good ‘nough.”

Every sound’s tantalizing; Joel’s boots and pants, thumping across the carpet. His bare, bulky thigh’s abruptly rubbing against your naked pussy; Then, Joel’s mirroring your body’s horizontal position. Mounting you.

Your arousal’s drenching his underwear’s front; His length’s largely tenting the humid material, “Beggin’ like that. Fuckin’ slut.”

You’re involuntarily panting, when Joel’s finally and fully undressed. His cock’s deliciously girthy. The tip’s engorged, reddened and seeping; Erecting far beyond his belly’s button.

You’re whimpering, “PleasePleasePlease.”

Joel grins, “Cunt’s quiverin’. Feelin’ that?”

You desperately nod, “Need you ‘t feel it.”

Joel’s immediately pistoning his fleshy waist; His cock’s knocking your cervix’s wall. His rough thrusting’s fastly inching your bodies upward, until your head’s rearing the sofa’s supple tailend.

He whispers, “Warm ‘nough?”

You gasp, “C–Cock’s perfect.”

Joel’s inaudibly responding; Ramming your hand, palming your pelvis. You’re feeling his cock, below your abdomen’s exterior. He’s interlocking your fingers; His own swallowing yours; Pressing. You’re practically tracing his bulbous, twitching tip.

He’s praising, “Takin’ me well.”

Joel’s bottoming-out, pounding steadily; His bloated, weighty balls welting your taint. Your clit’s puffing, from his pubic bone’s rhythmic route. Dementedly fucking you. You’re moaning, “Ah. F–Fuck.”

He murmurs, “Cunt’s gulpin’ me.” Joel’s hooking your knee’s underside, before lugging it overtop his broad shoulder’s slope, “Needy fuckin’ hole.”

You’re stammering, “Ngh. M–Mm. RightThereRightThere.”

Then, Joel’s angling deeper, differently; Laying his body’s robust weight against your languid, vertical leg. Your foot’s achingly surpassing your head. His chest hair’s graying and saturated; Scraping you.

Your pussy’s overwhelmingly spasming. Joel’s messily tonguing your nipple’s peak; His mustache’s prickling the sensitive skin. You’re tugging at his hair’s curling strands, “J–Joel. Close.”

Joel’s echoing your prior words, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You’re shockingly surprised, that Joel’s remembered the momentary retort; Your faux-bold response and pumpkin spiced alcohol. That’s it. You’re blindly coming. His cock’s densely brimming your contracting hole; Hammering you.

Your pussy’s pornographically sloshing. Joel whimpers, “A–’Atta girl. Drenchin’ it.” Then, “Comin’ inside. ‘M snipped. Yeah?”

You’re immediately kissing him. Palming his beard’s rugged stubble. Sucking his tongue’s pink pores; Tasting your arousal’s heady flavoring.

His climaxing moan’s roaring down your throat; Cum rapidly spurting, coating your cunt. You’re rubbing his rolling eye’s crinkled grooves. His forehead’s tanned and wrinkled. Joel’s especially gorgeous, while cumming hard.

You’re pouring, when Joel’s unplugging you. He’s breathlessly cursing, “Fuckin’ hot.” Standing, “Gettin’ towels. Need anythin’ else? Water?”

You’re beginning to respond, when Joel’s unexpectedly bending; Kissing you. You smile, tapping your bottom lip, “What’s that for?”

Joel’s embarrassedly pointing, toward the nearby microwave’s blinking clock. He explains, “Ten thirty-one on October thirty-first. ‘Dunno. Good luck? Make ‘a wish or somethin’.”

You’re actually dumbfounded, “Oh? You’re absurdly cute.”

Joel frowns, “Ain’t allowed ‘t call me that. ‘Specially while leakin’ my seed.” He’s nakedly turning, preparing to walk, “Water?”

You’re pulling Joel’s hand, “Wait. Want ‘t hear your wish.”

He gulps, “That… You’ll be visitin’ home on Thanksgivin’.”

[gracieheartspedro]

Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors. 

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses. 

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age. 

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare. 

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes. 

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice. 

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself.  You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response. 

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily. 

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed. 

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained. 

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm. 

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds. 

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long. 

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired. 

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually. 

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door. 

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man. 

-

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one. 

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough. 

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms. 

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head. 

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older. 

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief. 

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly. 

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment. 

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods. 

“Always is, kiddo.”

-

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some. 

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics. 

But for now, you should get some rest. 

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts. 

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have. 

You need to remind the council of all your father does. 

You need him to get better. 

You need him. 

-

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce. 

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer. 

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death. 

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family. 

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?” 

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either. 

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms. 

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side. 

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital. 

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller. 

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him. 

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far. 

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face. 

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question. 

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

-

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more. 

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime. 

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands. 

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time. 

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile. 

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.  

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you. 

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

-

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls. 

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse. 

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun. 

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company. 

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson. 

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt. 

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

-

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage. 

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot. 

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him. 

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were. 

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits. 

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy. 

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself. 

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in. 

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice. 

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit. 

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious. 

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. 

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud. 

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now. 

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

-

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake. 

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse. 

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward. 

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof. 

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you. 

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings. 

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that? 

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

-

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away. 

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view. 

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure. 

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time. 

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you. 

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that. 

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face. 

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable. 

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

-

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours. 

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire. 

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it. 

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually. 

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man. 

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls. 

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember. 

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing. 

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there. 

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you. 

-

The second day starts off a bit rough. 

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile. 

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked. 

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller. 

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life. 

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind. 

-

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia. 

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say. 

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you. 

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly. 

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him. 

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame. 

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket. 

-

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day. 

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds. 

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city. 

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep. 

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him. 

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion. 

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him. 

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses. 

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night. 

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

-

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances. 

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much. 

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now. 

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking. 

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind. 

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy. 

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard. 

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

-

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit. 

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask. 

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions. 

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew. 

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense. 

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital. 

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you. 

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town. 

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him. 

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward. 

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up. 

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same. 

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him. 

“Right, of course.”

-

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run. 

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding. 

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side. 

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety. 

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack. 

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back. 

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read. 

levofloxacin 

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through. 

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie. 

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything. 

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it. 

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials. 

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room. 

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it. 

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it. 

Click. Click. Click. 

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him. 

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern. 

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body. 

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire. 

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came. 

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City. 

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum. 

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing. 

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step. 

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods. 

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body. 

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip. 

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you. 

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you. 

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully. 

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything. 

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

-

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat. 

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind. 

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire. 

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel. 

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you. 

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice. 

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body. 

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in. 

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

-

Joel can not do this. 

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked. 

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again. 

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better. 

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better. 

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision. 

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. 

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel. 

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this. 

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation. 

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window. 

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste. 

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit. 

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted. 

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away. 

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap. 

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment. 

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want. 

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth. 

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big. 

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas. 

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips. 

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out. 

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. 

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does. 

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows. 

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him. 

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair. 

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance. 

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious. 

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears. 

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him. 

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more. 

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach. 

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive. 

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm. 

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over. 

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach. 

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky. 

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that. 

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess. 

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button. 

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess. 

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air. 

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin. 

-

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you. 

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open. 

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors. 

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you. 

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you. 

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him. 

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend. 

“We have to get home,” Is all he says. 

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again. 

-

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself. 

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky. 

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest. 

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home. 

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you. 

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks. 

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think. 

But no, he’s deadly serious. 

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together. 

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

-

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life. 

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already. 

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father. 

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive. 

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week. 

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter. 

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel. 

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid. 

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit. 

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables. 

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you. 

-

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked. 

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it. 

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud. 

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about. 

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then. 

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

-

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal. 

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home. 

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong. 

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door. 

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly. 

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it. 

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands. 

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially. 

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up. 

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left. 

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle. 

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom. 

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all. 

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys. 

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray. 

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one. 

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions. 

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake. 

But you’re not easing up. 

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want. 

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you. 

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you. 

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him. 

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy. 

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips. 

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips. 

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice. 

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door. 

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit. 

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby. 

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him. 

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages. 

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air. 

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought. 

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets. 

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him. 

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads. 

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly. 

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face. 

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. 

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for. 

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief. 

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

[talaok]

a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had

warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason

You were flirting good

The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone

Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl

"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.

He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed

As if

“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”

But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you

"she's not"

Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter

"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face

"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting

"Now."

There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding

"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill

You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving

"Cockbloker"

You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,

only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud

"you're in trouble doll"

again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know

The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear

"I'm talking to you"

You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage

And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.

maybe this will get your attention

And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face

"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking 

"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"

The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay

"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"

You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront

"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?" 

Oh he was fuming

"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"

you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat

he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.

"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"

What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please

You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk

"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"

The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory

"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core 

"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now 

"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"

Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"

He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.

"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty

"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"

The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case

"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?" 

His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that

"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze 

And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do

"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"

And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.

If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.

He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time

"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"

And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants

"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth

"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"

His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.

You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-

It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed

For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this

And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.

"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already 

He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less

"What, you scared?"

And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant

"fuck me, daddy"

God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love

"Jesus fucking Christ doll"

He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat

He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.

He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.

he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good

"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them

He was being serious, he needed you to know that

 "got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you" 

You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice

"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"

If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this

"yes" you whimpered into his palm, 

And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him

"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating

"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"

"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"

And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.

You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground

"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"

"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips

You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you

Later

"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.

the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now

"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours

"I gotta clean myself up" 

"I could help" 

You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you

"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"

And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard

And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe

"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.

Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about

"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"

To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century

His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself

"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"

"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"

Kaleb stumbled back, literally now

"w-wha-"

"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"

[joelmillerspillowprincess]

she’s an angel | joel miller x f! reader

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 9.8k warnings etc: (NO OUTBREAK) smut, age gap (20s/50s), dubcon, semi-public sex, degradation (joel calls reader a slut), hints of mean!joel, brief daddy kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, mirror sex, creampie, use of a gag, pussy slap, reader has hair and wears make up, hair pulling, spanking, dirty talk, pet names, alcohol, reader's family celebrates halloween, allusions to past parental trauma. no use of y/n.

this is my first posted fanfiction. it's only right it debuts on halloween. happy halloweeny!

It's cooler than it should be.

The end of October has brought with it a chill you don't recall from your years growing up in Texas. Or maybe it's just been too long since you've been home.

You stare yourself down the mirror of your vanity. The light blue wood of it is faded with time, sticky drawers barren save for the remnants of memories from days gone by; letters from now-dead grandparents, Polaroids with now-lost friends, empty tubes of now-out-of-fashion lipstick shades.

Everything around your reflection is the same as it was when you'd left this place five years ago, a frame of youthful innocence. The person staring back at you, however, is anything but innocent, even if she is donning the wings of an angel.

No. Surrounded by the leftovers from your childhood, the angel in the mirror is all woman.

And she looks good.

A white, boned corset hugs the curves of your upper body, pushing your tits up high on your chest and accentuating the slopes of your waist. The strapless sweetheart neckline shows off your collarbones deliciously, the long line of your neck accented by a thin, white choker. A flowing satin skirt fans out over your hips, cutting off at the midpoint of your thigh, just a hint of skin showing between the hem and the lace edge of your white thigh-high stockings.

You adjust the ribbony straps that hold the feathered, white wings in place over your shoulders, fan your hair out and tousle it slightly, testing out your very best smile before letting it fall, satisfied.

You debate whether or not to even wear the stupid mask. Gaudy and ornate, you have to admit it matches the rest of your costume beautifully, with silver gems glued to one side and a sheer, white veil that you know will conceal most of your face. Perfect for the masquerade bar crawl your high school friends are dragging you to later this evening. A bit much for your father's annual Halloween Bash you feel obligated to attend first.

Resignedly, you slip it on - practice that smile again. It's the only part of your face still visible.

Just one piece remains, sitting on the vanity, white and dainty and looking up at you somewhat menacingly. You slip the garter over your leg and wedge it high up on your thigh, concealed under the flouncy fabric of your skirt like a secret.

You take one last look at the obnoxious cleavage spilling out over the edge of the corset and decide, at least for now, to opt for modesty. You carefully remove your wings and follow the scent of naphthalene to your closet, fish out an old cardigan and throw it over your exposed shoulders. A relic from another life, it's a few sizes too small, fuzzy and a shade of ivory that doesn't quite match the perfect white of the skirt. The sleeves hit just below your elbows and the fabric clings a little too tightly to your form but it's better than the alternative.

Pearlescent buttons line its front, and you seal them right to the top, so only a hairsbreadth of flesh is poking out below the silver cross at the centre of the choker.

Better.

You slip your wings back over your arms, smooth out the straps and finally leave the woman in the mirror behind.

-

Creep it real!

The words line the banner that hangs above your father's front door, just one of many cheesy puns and hokey decorations that litter the main floor of his home.

It's too fucking much. It's always too fucking much. Your dad's favourite holiday for as long as you can remember, Halloween is always a bit of a production.

You help string cotton cobwebs from the ceilings and stick cartoonish bats to the wood-panelled walls. Your mother, dressed as the perfect Bride of Frankenstein, makes punch and fills bowls with chips and candy while your father, dressed as her perfect monster, puts the finishing touches on the lawn display, all gravestones and skeletons and intricately carved jack-o-lanterns. You watch him through the front window with a dubious smile as he gets the smoke machine going. Easily his most prized possession, it had been a lucky find at a yard sale from a neighbour who'd once worked in set direction.

It's funny how, after all these years, your parents haven't changed a bit. It's also funny how seemingly easy it is for them to pretend you hadn't left on bad terms.

"Thanks for helping out, kiddo," your dad's saying as he makes his way back inside, snatching a black plastic spider from your hand and reaching up over your head to the corner of the window pane, lodging it into place in a tangle of cotton. "Nice to have you home."

You give him your best smile, that one you'd practiced so much it probably looks as phony as it feels.

"It's nice to be back," you tell him even though it's a lie. "Thanks for putting me up."

He frowns. "We're not putting you up; this is your home."

It's a nice sentiment but it's not really true. This hasn't been your home in years and you've been more than content to keep it that way. Even now, you've got no plans to stay beyond this weekend, already bored and tired of the life you'd left behind.

"I know it is, Dad, sorry," you amend for his benefit.

"You're a good sport stickin' around for the party, too," he adds.

"Sure," you shrug, although you're selfishly much more interested in getting to the bar and finding someone who will hopefully make it so you don't have to spend the night at your parent's house.

"I think some folks'll be surprised to see you," he goes on. "Dropped in so last minute, I didn't get the chance to tell anyone you'd be home."

Yeah - you know. It had been a somewhat intentional move on your part, knowing all too well how your parents would make a thing out of your return. Plus, you hadn't really planned to be here, either; the timing had just worked out as you'd happened to be passing through the Austin for work. It had felt almost wrong not to stop in for a few days. Try to put appearances and make nice.

"It's fine, I probably won't hang out too long anyway." Best not to get his hopes up.

He grins warmly, tells you to stay as long as you want, and then your conversation is abruptly cut off by your mother blasting 'Monster Mash' through the living room speakers.

-

Twilight fades into dusk fades into night and the party is in full swing.

The sound of music and a cacophony of voices fills the air, clinking beer bottles and thrumming bass echoing loudly in your ears where you stand against a wall, mostly keeping to yourself unless otherwise spoken to. The living room is dimly lit by a superfluous display of electronic tea lights, casting an orange glow over the crowd of faces that you assume would be familiar if they weren't obscured by smatterings of fake blood, glitter and silicone.

One figure stands out among the throng though, perhaps because he doesn't seem to have put much effort into his costume at all. The dark plaid that stretches across the expanse of his back unleashes a flood of memories (or more accurately, a distant collage of schoolgirl fantasies). You recognize him beyond a doubt, even before he turns to the side and reveals that unmistakable hooked nose and strong jaw, patchy facial hair that's a little greyer now than it was when you used to daydream about how it would feel brushing against your cheek.

Joel Miller.

Your father's oldest friend from down the road, he's broader than you remember him, thicker in the arms and midsection, the latter especially noticeable in the way his belly strains over the waistband of his jeans, confined by plaid tucked into well-worn denim, all accented by an ostentatious belt buckle. His face is partially cast in shadow by the off-white cowboy hat he's wearing, the ensemble capped off by a faded red bandana tied clumsily around his wide neck.

And fuck, if it doesn't suit him. There's something almost natural about the way he tips his hat at passing partygoers, the way he leans against the wall opposite you and hooks a thumb over the massive belt buckle, the engraved metal shining faintly in the low light. Gripping the neck of a beer bottle with his other hand, he's a man plucked straight from a Marlboro ad, even more beautiful now than the last time you saw him - years ago now.

Your heart nearly stops when his eyes suddenly flit upwards and catch yours across the room. He smirks, a lop-sided, curious thing and it's only then you realize you're fucking staring.

You avert your eyes, scan the crowd without seeing anything, only to land your gaze on him again. He hasn't looked away. You stiffen where you stand, hold his stare for a second too long. You swallow harshly and his smile widens.

Christ, you need a drink. Your heart's pounding as if there's anything more to that smile than an old family friend politely recognizing his best friend's daughter.

But then his eyes rake over your front, not-so-subtly fixating on the skin above your stockings. He tilts his head to the side, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he were assessing you. Even from here, under the low glow of synthetic candlelight, you see a muscle in his jaw click, plush lips pursing as his dark eyes trail back up your chest, landing on your masked face before he brings his beer bottle back up to his mouth and takes a long pull. His eyes don't leave your face.

Okay, maybe you're not imagining it. Sweet, reserved, respectful Joel (a single dad if your memory serves) is definitely eye-fucking you from across the room right now. In your father's home. Like he doesn't care at all that he once knew you as a child.

You resist the urge to pinch yourself.

Instead, you decide to test the waters. Bite your lip and flit your gaze to his mouth, watch him as you turn towards the kitchen and catch the moment he decides to follow.

Not imagining it.

It's lighter in the kitchen, the sound of the party dulled but not entirely silenced beyond the wall. Safer, private.

You feign nonchalance, crouching to retrieve a beer from the fridge, blissfully aware that the boots you hear against the linoleum a moment later belong to Joel without needing to look up and see for yourself.

Sure enough -

"S'a nice costume," a gruff says from behind you. You jolt upright, beer in hand, to face the source of the sound. And there's the Marlboro man in all his glory, standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a playful glint in his eye and a devilish smile plastered to his face.

You grin, cheeks warming at the way he looks you over in the light of the kitchen, so much brighter here than in the living room, staring at your chest as though he could see right through the thin fabric of your cardigan.

You work to play it cool, even as your skin burns under the weight of his stare.

"You think?"

You twist to the side, giving him a better view of the entire ensemble, wings and all. You figure there's no need for subtly at this point; wrong or right, the way he's looking at you now tells you he hasn't just followed you into the kitchen for a quick hello.

"Yeah, I do," he says, inching further into the room. "Go on, let me see all of it."

Jesus. Joel's apparently given up on subtly too. You suppose it could be interpreted as harmless. But then you spin for him, all the way around so the soft fabric of your skirt flutters around your thighs. You come to a stop facing him, watch his smile fade to something darker when you daringly lift the hem of your skirt to reveal the garter with a smirk.

And if there was going to be a moment for him to decide that you'd taken things too far, that would be it. But he doesn't. Instead, he stalks even closer, eyes fixed on the edge of your skirt, almost entranced in the way he shakes his head.

"So fuckin' sexy," he marvels quietly.

"Oh my god."

The words escape you almost like a laugh because there's just no fucking way. Every fantasy you've ever had is being brought to life before your eyes. A moment imagined in a thousand different ways. Joel Miller finally seeing you as an object of desire. Joel Miller undeniably wanting you.

He instantly flushes at your reaction, setting his empty beer bottle down on the counter and removing his hat to run a nervous hand through his hair. And it's the first sign you see of the Joel you think you know - polite, charming. Disarmingly good-mannered.

"Sorry, comin' on a bit strong, I guess," he chuckles. He holds his hat to his chest and reaches his other hand between your bodies. You stare at it in confusion. "I'm Joel. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Oh."

Another involuntary reaction, whispered and soft as realization smooths across your features.

No wonder he's being so callous with his advances; Joel doesn't know who you fucking are.

Faced with a dilemma, you very quickly work through your options. You know what you should do, what the morally right decision is. You should be honest, tell him your name, remove your mask. Watch him grapple with embarrassment and politely leave you to it. You can't imagine he'd carry on with you if he had any idea you were his friend's daughter.

But then again...he already wants you. Right? And you wholeheartedly want him. So what if he doesn't know who you are? Maybe part of you likes it that way. You're not the same person you were the last time he saw you anyway.

You will tell him the truth, you decide. Just...not yet.

You take his hand in yours and shake.

"Tonight, cowboy, you can just call me Angel."

Joel grins, cocks his eyebrows and chuckles. "Oh yeah?"

You don't get a chance to respond because then he's bringing your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles and the words die on your tongue, your mind temporarily going blank at the feeling of his scruff scratching at the back of your hand and his dark gaze peering up at you from under his lashes.

"Alright, then Angel."

No. You're definitely not telling him the truth yet.

He lets your hand fall and puts his hat back on before leaning an elbow casually against the kitchen counter. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, revealing thick forearms and tan skin. Unconsciously, you gravitate closer.

"S'quite the party, huh?" he grins, cocking his chin in the direction of the music and orange light emanating from just around the corner.

You shrug. "It's fine. I'm not staying long. Going out to a club soon."

You don't miss the way his smiles falters just the slightest bit.

"You live in the neighbourhood?" he asks. "Don't think I've seen ya around before."

"Haven't you?"

"Woulda remembered, I reckon."

You have to bite back a laugh at that.

"Well, I used to live around here, but I moved away a few years back," you shrug. It's technically not a lie.

"But you're back in town," he says. States it. Not a question.

"For now."

Joel smirks, drags his eyes over you again, contemplative. Still, no sign of recognition passes over his features, only unbridled interest that makes your cheeks burn and your mouth water.

"What made you leave?" he wonders after a moment of charged silence, his wandering gaze finally landing on the one part of your face he can see.

Now there's a loaded question. Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead as you consider how best to answer him, attempting to bide yourself some time as you ease your body closer to his with a pointed sway of your hips.

"You know, I don't really like to think about the past," you land on and right now it couldn't be more true.

Joel chuckles, brows knitting together somewhat dubiously at the response. Thankfully, he doesn't push it.

"What are you drinkin', Angel?" he asks, his eyes darting down to the beer bottle in your hand.

"Oh - beer," you tell him. "You want one?"

"Won't say no to ya," he smiles.

You turn back to the fridge, bending at the hip rather than crouching this time, fully aware of the view you're offering him. If he reacts, you don't hear it, but when you face him again, beer in hand, his arms are crossed over his chest and his cheeks are painted a faint shade of pink.

Good.

You extend one of the bottles out to him, eyes fixed on the way his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt. His fingers ghost against yours when he takes the bottle from your hand and it shoots an electric tingle down your spine.

"Bottle opener's in there," you tell him, nodding towards the drawer he's currently leaning against. He follows your gaze and seems to consider moving for a moment. Then he grins.

"I got it," he says, placing his own bottle on the counter. Your brows furrow and then your jaw drops as Joel then begins to fiddle with his belt buckle, undoing the notches so it hangs loose around his waist.

Your pulse quickens and you nervously look over your shoulder, suddenly terrified of someone walking in on you.

"S'alright," Joel assures you, redrawing your attention. When you turn back to him you he's holding a hand out to you. "Let me see."

He nods towards the bottle and you silently hand it to him, entranced. Then you watch as he deftly hooks the edge of the silver buckle under the lip of the bottle cap. He flicks his wrist upwards and with a sizzling pop, the cap goes flying, landing with a quiet clang onto the tiled floor.

"Wow," you murmur, genuinely impressed and suddenly unable to tear your eyes away from his fucking crotch.

Joel seems to notice the response, taking you by surprise as he places the bottle on the counter and wraps his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling you into him. Your bodies don't touch but you can feel the heat radiating off him from here, the static buzz that fills the remaining space between you.

"Old party trick," he jokes, voice low.

You find yourself peering towards the kitchen door again. Joel notices that too.

"Hey," he murmurs, catching a finger on your chin to turn your face back in his direction. You swallow against the nerves suddenly bubbling up in your throat.

"S'this alright?" he asks as he traces his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You nod.

"Yeah," you decide, throwing caution to the wind and pressing your hips forward till you feel the hard metal of his loosened belt buckle jutting into your stomach.

He hums, a sound deep in his chest, and it's all you can do just to stand there as he curiously runs his fingers over your shoulder, smirking as he fiddles with the feathers of your wings and inspects the costume up close, dark brown eyes scaling hungrily up and down your body. His hand moves downward then, over the fabric of your cardigan, thinly veiling the bones of the corset beneath and you wonder if he can feel them, if he knows what you're hiding when he rests his palm against your waist and pulls you in just that little bit closer.

His gaze lands on your parted lips and there's a moment of heated anticipation where you're certain he's going to kiss you, the smell of him so close and inviting.

"No halo?" he whispers instead, cocking his eyebrows and lifting his gaze to the top of your head. "Shouldn't a good little angel have a halo?"

Oh, fuck.

"Well, maybe I'm not such a good little angel," you purr, only the hint of a shake in your voice as you widen your eyes and bat your lashes for good measure. You swear you hear his breath stutter before he's shaking his head in near-disbelief. You smirk; it's exactly the reaction you'd been hoping for.

"Anyway, the halo felt like overkill," you shrug.

Joel scoffs, glancing down to grab at the fabric of your skirt. Your brain short-circuits as he hikes it up your leg, revealing the white lace garter sat high on your thigh.

"And this?" he questions darkly. "You're tellin' me this ain't overkill?"

You laugh even though it's not funny, even though arousal is steadily pooling at your core and coursing through your burning veins.

"Well, at least I put some effort in," you attempt to tease him lightly, answering the unrelenting grip he has on your skirt with a tug at the fabric of his shirt, fisting the plaid at his sides and trying not to think too hard about the fact that it's first time you've ever touched Joel Miller like this. That you're only here because of a shameful lie. "Bet you just had all this lying around the house, right, cowboy?"

Joel's lips twitch and he watches in wonder as you reach up and grab the cowboy hat off his head, planting it atop yours with a wink. Joel snakes a hand behind you to tip the rim back, showing him more of your masked face as you stare up at him expectantly.

"Now that's pretty," he marvels softly and then he's entwining a hand around the back of your neck and leaning in closer and there's no mistaking it now; he's going to kiss you and you want so badly to kiss him back but -

"Not here," you stop him with a firm hand on his chest. You don't know what the fuck you're doing, but it can't happen in your parent's kitchen. You give him his hat back and he groans as he yanks you in closer when you try to pull back.

"What exactly are we doin', honey?"

"Just come with me?" you suggest breathlessly, untangling yourself from his grasp and grabbing him by the hand. He doesn't argue, just nods and lets you lead him out of the kitchen. You cautiously watch your back, make sure no one sees you dragging Joel Miller up the carpeted stairs and into the concealed darkness of a second-floor hallway.

There's a beat as you size each other up, eyes adjusting to the lack of light. Then Joel is crowding you against the wall, his gaze flitting over your masked face curiously.

You know in that moment the question he's asking. And you know in that moment what your answer should be. Take off the mask. Tell him the truth. Watch him walk away.

But instead, you hook your fingers into his belt loops and tug him into your body, crane your neck upwards and whisper, "Kiss me," praying to the heavens above you'll be forgiven for this.

You'll tell him. You'll tell him.

But right now you just want to kiss him.

Joel exhales sharply, hums a quiet assertion and then he's crashing his mouth into yours. Your head hits the glass of a framed photo behind you, a sting quickly remedied by the feel of his lips moving on yours, his hands cupping the sides of your face with a tenderness you wouldn't have expected.

His kiss is far from tender though, and for that, you're grateful. It's rushed and breathy, toothsome when his tongue invades the space between your lips. He tastes like beer and mint, and the masculine scent of his skin takes up the air around you as his broad frame encages you against the drywall. Your mind goes blank with the headiness of it, the coarse drag of his moustache along your skin soothed by the plush softness of his lips. Dreams of how that aquiline nose would feel bumping into yours, material at last.

His hands move lower then, traversing the line of your body, making you moan into his mouth while his touch ignites a fire inside you. You don't think, just impatiently begin to unbutton the pearly confines of your cardigan to reveal the corset beneath.

Joel breaks the kiss to glance down at your exposed chest and groan, his upper lip curling at the sight. His hands hover over the scratchy fabric, fingers twitching with another endearing flash of uncertainty. You stamp it out with an overly-confident graze of your palm over the bulge in his jeans, grinning when it makes his breath hitch, when you realize with a sick sense of triumph that Joel Miller is hard for you.

"Shit," he curses softly as he watches your hand work over him and you feel his cock come alive under your touch.

"Touch me, Joel," you quietly plead when his eyes finally find yours again.

He shakes his head.

"Wanna see you," he insists breathlessly, reaching up to toy with the edges of your mask.

You let your hand fall from his cock to swat his fingers away. Joel frowns.

"Where's the fun in that?" you ask innocently.

"Well," Joel hums, ducking forward to press his lips into the space below your ear. "I usually like knowin' who it is I'm about to ruin."

An involuntary shiver courses through you and when you speak, it's with a shake.

"You want to ruin me?"

His low chuckle echoes into the hollow of your ear while his teeth graze gently over the lobe. "Ain't that what you want, Angel?"

Oh, god. Fuck it then. It's now or never.

In a flash of movement, you tear the mask off your face and quickly clutch at Joel's curls, pulling him back into a bruising kiss before he can properly take you in. You take charge as best you can, languidly licking into his mouth and pressing your hips forward till they collide with his. Joel's response is swift, his arms wrapping around you and holding you prisoner against his body while his tongue begins to dance messily with yours.

And fuck, it's perfect. Your hips grinding against his is an almost unconscious thing, pure hunger taking over every other emotion until you feel it.

The way his body goes rigid and his lips still on yours.

Then the sudden, quiet grunt of protest against your mouth that has your eyes flashing open in response. It takes your brain a second to catch up, to notice that he's not looking at you but rather something right behind you.

Only then he does look at you and at last you see it click.

"Fuck - wait," Joel gasps, prying your mouths apart and pushing himself off you with two firm hands on your shoulders. Pathetically, your lips chase after his.

"Joel - " you whine, attempting to yank him back, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. But those firm hands encircle your wrists and tear you away, forcing space between your bodies.

"You..." Joel shakes his head, glancing between you and whatever he's seeing behind you, his expression some mixture of shock and outrage. You peer over your shoulder and finally understand; your high school graduation photo is tacked on the wall beside your head, the beatific smile of a younger, more-optimistic you staring you both down in the quiet darkness of the hallway.

You sigh exasperatedly. "Joel, it's okay. It's fine."

"It ain't - " Joel scoffs lightly and drops your wrists, steps back out of reach. A painful knot of rejection curls in your stomach, made worse by the burning heat of guilt over your stupid, stupid lie. "It ain't fine."

"Joel, please, you wanted me just a second ago," you whisper and you hate that it sounds so broken, so needy. Your words seem to affect him though, his features softening into something almost pained. "Please, I-I'm not some little girl anymore."

His jaw tightens, conflict etching the weathered lines of his face. "I don't think that's how your old man would see it."

"You think I give a fuck what he thinks?" you demand, stepping forward. He doesn't touch you, but he doesn't move either. You sigh.

"You asked why I left town."

Joel frowns. "Yeah?"

"It's because of him, Joel. Both of them," you nod in the general direction of the stairs, to the place where music is thrumming and your parents are obliviously mingling. "I mean, we - we hardly even speak. You have no idea what they put me through."

Joel's eyes stay fixed on the stairs, to the light of the party shining up from below. You see it clear as day - that part of him telling him to run as fast as he can from this. But he doesn't. So you go on.

"They don't know me, Joel," you insist, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist. He turns back to face you and that pained look is back in his eyes. But he's drifting closer to you, hands stretching out in front of him like he wants so badly to touch you.

"You don't know me either," you breathe and at that, Joel scoffs. The pained look on his face gives way to something else and there's a shift behind his eyes as he frees his wrist from your grasp to press his hand into the wall beside your head.

"Actually, I think I do, little girl," he spits, leaning in close, the change in atmosphere taking you aback as your heart pounds violently in your ears. "You think I didn't hear it all from him? All your sneakin' around and actin' out? Runnin' away at eighteen? I know you."

"Who did you think I was running away from?" you bite back, petulant.

Joel shakes his head and chews on the inside of his lip, but you can see it, see the way his resolve is fading before your eyes.

"You're just - you're just a kid. He's my best friend."

You scoff.

"I hate him, Joel."

His eyes narrow and the sound of your pulse in your ears is almost deafening as Joel takes up all the space around you, something darker taking over his gaze, something menacing and delicious and promising.

"You know, that really ain't no way to talk about your daddy," he snarls.

You should flinch away from that tone, shrink and recoil from its threatening edge, its condescension. Instead, you gravitate towards it like a magnet, something warm and achy pulsing between your legs at his words.

"Maybe you need a little discipline," Joel grits out, grabbing roughly at your waistline, other hand still braced against the wall beside you.

And - oh. That really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does. Petulance quickly fades and you find yourself nodding frantically, overwhelmed as arousal swiftly burns through you, when you realize what you're on the precipice of.

"Maybe, I do," you breathe, crashing your pelvis forward into his and craning your neck up higher so your mouths are only an inch apart. Joel doesn't back away anymore. "Are you going to put me in my place, Joel?"

At that, his head falls forward and he's whispering, Goddamnit but it's too fucking late now.

Because his strong hands are clutching at your face as he presses his body weight into yours and he kisses you again, hungrier now and decidedly rougher. You whimper as his mouth moulds into yours, his hands moving to draw the silken fabric of your skirt up your thigh. His knee invades the space between your legs and forces them apart, while his lips greedily begin to trail below your jaw, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin of your neck. You curl your leg up over his waist and pull his body in closer, grind your clothed heat into the strong muscle of his thigh and hear him groan into your skin.

You claw at his back, clutching him to you as he plunges a hand between your thighs and cups your sex through your panties. The lacy fabric, wet with your arousal, scratches dizzyingly against your folds and your head falls back into the wall with a strangled sigh.

"This what you want?" he coaxes, strumming at your clit over your underwear.

"Yes - yes, Joel."

He bites down on your clavicle, pressing harder against your pussy, the tips of his thick fingers moving lower to brush your clothed entrance and cloud whatever is left of your judgment as you melt into his touch.

"Beg for it," he growls, taking you by surprise yet again. His free hand grabs you firmly by the jaw, and when his eyes find yours, there's a desperation burning in his blown-out browns, the lewdness of his request dulled by the impression you suddenly get that he needs to hear you tell him you want it. "Beg."

You don't deny him.

"Please, Joel," you plead pathetically, wriggling on his fingers and clutching desperately at fistfuls of plaid. "Please don't stop. I want this. I want you."

"Yeah?"

In lieu of an answer, you very quickly make a decision. Perhaps the stupidest of your life.

You bite your lip and unravel yourself from his embrace, tugging him hurriedly down the hall to your bedroom before you can think any better of it.

You pounce on him the second the door is locked behind you, throwing your arms around his wide neck and knocking his hat to the floor as you kiss him with newfound fervour.

"What're you doin'?" he demands but his hands are warm at the small of your back, holding you close.

"I said I want you," you repeat, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Joel swats your hands away, tearing his mouth from yours abruptly.

"Here?"

He glances around the room, seemingly well aware you've led him directly into your childhood bedroom, eyes raking over the juvenile details that remain here; flouncy wallpaper and patterned bed sheets, *NSYNC posters and a corner full of discarded stuffed animals.

You palm at his cheek to redraw his attention, marvelling at the feel of his scruff beneath your fingers.

"Here," you assert.

Joel sighs, long and ragged, almost tortured as he quietly curses under his breath. You stare back at him dolefully, daringly ducking forward to kiss the corner of his mouth and run your fingers through his greying curls.

"Fuckin' Christ," he snarls.

All hesitance fades as his fingers coil firmly around your wrists, pinning them to your sides and guiding you into the room till your lower back hits the edge of your vanity.

"Angel, my ass," he grits, big hands meandering below the hem of your skirt, stealing your breath as he hooks his fingers under the lace edge of your panties. "You're a bad fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

You barely manage a soft, "Mhmm," before he's shimmying your underwear down your legs, taking care not to disrupt the garter around your thigh. He encourages you up onto the vanity, trinkets and make-up and perfume bottles clattering underneath you as you spread your legs for him and wrap them around his waist.

"Wanna taste you," he whispers urgently, like he's afraid he'll change his mind. You shudder as he ghosts his lips down your chest, laying open-mouthed kisses over the exposed skin above your breasts.

"Oh fuck," you whine as Joel falls to his knees between your legs and pushes your thighs further apart, making space for those broad shoulders. He positions your left leg over his shoulder and hooks his arms beneath your knees, dull fingernails digging into tender flesh. "Please."

"Shut up," he growls as his teeth come down on the skin of your inner thigh, chastising. And you know he's right, know you have to find the will to stay quiet. You curl your bottom lip between your teeth and let your head fall into the mirror behind you while Joel hungrily kisses his way closer to the apex of your thighs, groaning when he tastes the sticky slick that's already begun to coat the skin there.

You're throbbing - aching - for him to touch where you need it most and Joel doesn't tease you for long.

"Pretty fuckin' cunt," you hear him say and then his tongue is swiftly licking through the seam of your folds, sending an electric shock through every nerve in your body. Your mouth falls open in a gasp but Joel doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath, closing his lips around your clit and sucking harshly before pulling back with a lewd smack.

Your fingers are in his hair then, desperate to force him back onto you. Joel chuckles, glancing up at you with pink cheeks and wet lips.

"When's the last time someone ate your pussy, sweetheart?"

Too fucking long, you want to say but your brain can't form the words so instead you just whine and furiously shake your head from side to side.

"Oh, she's a needy thing, ain't she?" Joel murmurs darkly, eyes glinting with lust. "Been that long, huh?"

Now you nod, biting down harder on your lip to stop yourself from begging. Though Joel seems determined to make you.

"Poor little pussy," Joel says, making you shudder as he frees one of your legs from his grasp to press two fingers against your folds. He caresses you, languid swipes over your aching hole and your puffy clit, spreading your arousal tortuously till you meet his gaze, pleading.

"Please," you finally break, voice cracked. Joel smirks, triumphant.

"There she is," Joel smirks. Then you watch as he parts your lips with two fingers, exposing you fully to him before spitting onto your clit. Your eyes widen and you squeal at the sensation, watch him marvel at the sight of his own saliva mixing with your arousal as it drips down to your cunt before he catches it on his tongue and begins to devour you.

And fuck - the urge pinch yourself returns full force. Joel Miller, a man you've known most of your life, consumes your pussy like it's his last meal on Earth.

His mouth is hot and wet, eager with his efforts as he sucks and puckers over your folds. He teases you with his tongue, fucking it into your tight hole and making you writhe beneath him. Joel hums approvingly at the response, sending a fresh wave of sensation searing through you as you curl your leg around his shoulder and pull him in closer. His nose bumps against your clit and it's so good but it's not enough; you can't help it. You whine, high-pitched and broken as you wriggle your hips in search of more.

"Quiet now," Joel chides you, using the hand he'd been using to part your folds to lay a swift slap against your pussy. A wet smack fills the room and you arch your spine at the sudden, harsh contact on your sensitive cunt. Your knees instinctively come together but Joel holds them firmly apart, already diving forward to lap at your core once again.

You hiss through clenched teeth, nearly falling apart completely when he at last begins to carefully circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. Tight, practiced, impatient swirls that make your vision blurry and your toes curl. Your fingers slacken in his curls as you give in to him, let the sweet ministrations of his tongue bring you closer and closer to the edge.

Wetness gathers at your core when he flattens his tongue and lets you grind lazily against it, another quiet hum of approval encouraging you as a knot of pleasure begins to pull taut at your insides.

"More," you find yourself moaning softly.

You can feel his smile against you. "Yeah?"

"Please," you keen, rutting up into his mouth, not even entirely sure what it is you're asking for. It's so hot in here you can hardly think straight; your skin burns in the confines of your bedroom, under the heat of his mouth, layers of fabric and feathers clinging sticky to every part of you.

Joel cocks an eyebrow at you. "You gonna keep that pretty mouth shut?"

"Yeah - yes, I will, I promise," you ramble, grabbing wildly for his wrist, guiding it towards your centre.

"You want my fingers?" he asks like he doesn't already know.

"Please."

He shoos your hand before you can even get the word out, pinning it on the vanity beside you before sinking a thick finger into your heat, grunting as the warm, wet of you engulfs his digit. The back of your head collides with the glass behind you as Joel begins to fuck his finger in and out of you, quickly adding a second. You keen at the stretch, some strangled noise getting stuck in your throat as Joel chuckles lowly.

"You like that," he comments matter-of-factly as he hooks his fingers inside you and nudges at a spot seldom found by boys your age.

"Joel!" you gasp, too loud, and the fingers he has curled around your wrist tighten, a warning. You curse yourself, covering your mouth with your free hand in an attempt to contain the noises threatening to claw their way out of way.

Joel doesn't seem to be paying much attention anyway, enraptured as his mouth finds your clit again, fingers still working you open in shallow thrusts and beckoning little motions. His tongue flicks and sucks at the bundle of nerves and you don't know when or how but the hand that conceals your lips falls to clutch as his curls again, your hips grinding into his hot mouth and pushing his fingers deeper. You're so close now, can feel release ready to snap inside you.

"M'gonna stop f'you don't shut up," Joel murmurs against you, muffled wetly into your heat.

You hadn't even realized you'd been making any sound.

You think you whisper, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry but you don't know for sure because then Joel is pulling his fingers from you and gripping your ass under your skirt to hold you flush against his face, softly moaning around your clit as he laves at you, his tongue and mouth insistent, greedy.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," you're chanting and Joel hums a noise that sounds like a question as his eyes flash up to meet yours. You can only moan and nod, telling him without words, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop before your muscles tense and you're coming with such force your entire body preens with it, spine arching and slick pooling where his chins meets your pulsing core.

Joel eats you through it, offering no reprieve even when you begin to squirm and flinch with the come down, stars still bursting behind your eyes.

"Joel, fuck," you whine when it begins to feel too much. "Can't - "

He grunts, finally detaching his mouth from you. You shiver at the loss of his warmth, cry out without meaning to when he licks a parting stripe through your sensitive folds.

When your vision refocuses, you find he's staring up at you wrecked, pink lips swollen and slick staining his cheeks and chin. There's something else there too - that stupid, pained look, that unmistakable conflict.

"Goddamn," Joel groans softly, turning his face to bite at the garter around your inner thigh.

"Joel, it's okay," you find yourself saying. You grab at the bandana around his neck, try to force him to look at you again. "Fuck me. Please. I want you to fuck me."

Joel sighs, shallow and tight, shakes his head against your leg. "You're bad fuckin' news, kid."

You can't contain the smile that spreads across your face at that. "But you want me, too? Right?"

You pet his scruff till he finally meets your gaze. There's a resignation there, in that tortured stare he gives you. But there's also lust. Wanting. He wants you.

He nods.

"Then take me," you tell him.

There's a final moment of pause, of hesitance, as Joel looks over his shoulder towards your bedroom door. You follow his gaze, pussy aching with emptiness. Joel considers the door for a moment, then looks back at you, staring at him beseechingly.

Please don't leave now, you plead with your eyes.

Joel sighs and shakes his head. You watch with curious fascination as he then begins to tug at the bandana around his neck, loosening it enough to lift it over his head.

"Sit up," he orders you, and you do, Joel moving to stand over you. You can see how hard he is now, cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. He doesn't let you ogle for long though, tilting your chin up with a strong hand under your jaw and smushing your face under his calloused fingers as he hinges down to kiss you. You taste yourself on his tongue when he forces it into your mouth, his kiss all spit and slick and commanding dominance before he pries you off him.

"You're gonna behave," he tells you simply. Not a request, but an order as he drops his hand from your face.

"Yes, daddy," you say coyly with a big, toothy smile and Joel groans, exasperated. It makes you giggle.

"Christ," he growls with a shake of his head. "'Course you're one of those. Turn around."

He doesn't wait for you to obey, rather, he manhandles you down off the vanity and spins you away from him, bringing you face to face with your own reflection before a firm hand between your shoulders is pushing you down into the faded blue wood.

You go perfectly still, waiting, feeling the rough drag of denim against the back of your thighs and the hard metal of his belt buckle digging into your flesh. But Joel's not done.

He tugs at the straps of your wings, wriggling you loose from them along with your cardigan and leaving them discarded on the floor, all traces of innocence abandoned.

"Fuck," Joel breathes, eyes flitting wildly between the you before him and the you in the mirror, running a hand roughly down your spine, grabbing at every ridge and curve before landing on your hip and pulling you into him.

"Joel..." you whine and then you jolt, gasping when the tender hand on your hip makes harsh contact with your ass.

"What'd I say?" he chides you.

Before you have time to react, he's moving over you, leaning in close so his lips are right at your ear.

"You're gonna behave," he repeats. You nod but it makes no difference because then there's a flurry of red in the mirror, as Joel slips his bandana over your head. With rough but certain fingers, he tilts your chin upwards and hooks his fingers under the fabric.

"Open," he tells you and your lips part without argument.

You watch him in the mirror as he then pulls the makeshift gag up over your chin and forces it into your waiting mouth, soft, washed cotton pressing down on your tongue and scratching at your molars with how far he pushes it in.

"Bite down," he says and you do, lips straining around red, compelling you to breathe through your nose so all you can smell is the masculine scent of him embedded into the bandana's fibres, woodsy and salty and all-encompassing.

"Good girl," Joel offers and your eyes flutter at the praise. "God, look at you. Look."

His hand in your hair tugs your neck up, giving you no choice but to appraise your reflection as he hikes your skirt up to your waist and begins to unzip his jeans behind you.

You have to admit you look a mess, hair tousled and mascara smudged around your eyes, your mouth stretched obscenely around the bandana, involuntary drool already turning red to dark brown. If you'd thought the person staring back at you in this very same mirror was all woman before, now she is all girl, all mouldable and pliant and dutiful. All Joel's.

Your pussy clenches around nothing and you moan at that thought, impatiently pushing back into him when you hear the metallic clang of his belt hitting the floor.

"Yeah - gonna fuck you now," Joel vows, pressing down between your shoulder blades so your chest is flush with the vanity. Again, he yanks at your hair to keep your eyes up, keep you focused on your reflection when the hard line of cock notches at your entrance. "Watch."

You do watch, watch him as his brows furrow and his nose scrunches in concentration, staring at the place where your bodies are nearly connected before spitting a slow stream of saliva down on to your already drenched hole. He runs the tip of his cock up and down through your folds and you feel like you might go insane with want until finally, finally, he begins to sink inside with a hushed groan.

Your hands brace against the edge of the vanity as you writhe at the stretch, the burn of him filling you. It would almost be too much, you think, if the twinge of pain you feel at the intrusion wasn't one you found so delicious, wasn't a reminder that you don't think you've ever had something this big inside you before.

"Tight little pussy," Joel mutters through gritted teeth, voice strained. "Fuck me."

You whine, wish you could repeat his words right back to him. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.

"What?" Joel goads, bottoming out inside you, stilling with two firm hands on your waist. "What do you want?"

You can only wiggle your hips and moan softly, a silent plea. Joel chuckles once.

"Yeah, I know," he purrs and then at last, Joel Miller is fucking you.

He wastes no time, starting a hurried pace, accented by the dull smack of skin on skin and laboured grunts passing through Joel's teeth. The vanity shakes beneath you, and you wish the rush of panic you feel at someone downstairs possibly hearing its incessant scraping against the hardwood didn't make your head spin with arousal, but it does. Or maybe it's just Joel's thick cock pounding into you, nudging at your cervix with each unforgiving stroke.

"This is what you needed, huh?" he's murmuring, voice low and dark. "A big, fat cock fillin' you up?"

Oh, god. You nod, whine around the gag, find his eyes in the mirror again and your knees go weak at the sight of his form looming over yours, the collar of his shirt askew, sweat dampening his forehead.

"Yeah? Dirty - fuckin' - slut."

You keen at that, push back into the place his hips meet yours and moan. Slick dribbles between your thighs and your pussy flutters around his length and of course, of course Joel notices the response.

"Oh - you like that, don't you?" he grunts, tugging at your hair once again and making your spine arch for him.

"Look," he repeats, coaxing you to lock eyes with your own depraved reflection, a fallen angel spilling out of a corset, willingly split open by her dad's best friend. "Look what a bad girl you grew up to be."

Another muffled moan is swallowed by his bandana, his words sending a lick of heat down your spine as something wild and heady begins to scratch at your nerves. His frame engulfs yours again, lips back at your ear as he whispers,

"Daddy's cock'll fix you."

Oh fuck. Your eyes roll back into your skull and you think you hear him laugh, a mocking sound that only drives you crazier, only makes your brain go foggier when he pulls back and clutches at your hips, fucking you so hard you feel tears prick at your eyes and a tightness start to build in your core all over again.

"Yeah, that's right," Joel rasps softly, breathless. "You wanna be good, don't you? Wanna be a good girl and come again for daddy? Go on, baby - come on daddy's cock."

You want to - fuck, you want to come again. You want to be so, so good for him. To show him you always could be. Your eyes begin to flutter closed as you crane onto your tippy toes to take him deeper, feel the drag of him against the sweetest part of you, hurtling towards release with each thrust of his hips against yours.

"Don't," Joel orders you, tapping your cheek with gentle intent till you open your eyes. "Want you to look at yourself when you come on my cock."

You immediately flit your gaze up to meet your reflection, see your cheek pressed into wood, eyes wet and mouth full of fabric. You barely register Joel reaching around you to toy sloppily with your clit before you're falling apart, coming with a silent scream and clenching down around his length.

"Good girl," Joel grants you raggedly as your body quivers under his and then goes limp, waves of your come gathering around his girth and dripping down his balls. "Fuck - that's so good, baby."

Joel fucks you relentlessly as your second orgasm crashes over you, chasing his own high as he begins to ramble wildly under his breath, his voice echoing hollowly in your pleasure-drunk mind as though he were speaking from very far away.

"Gonna fuckin' ruin you, baby girl. Gonna use this little pussy up. You're not gonna wanna take another cock for weeks."

You whimper tiredly, nod obediently. You're not sure you want to take another cock besides his ever again.

"Maybe I'll send ya out to that club with my come drippin' outta ya."

And you know it's stupid and careless and wrong to want that but you make a noise that sounds like yes please all the same. Joel groans.

"Say that again?" he presses you, the rock of his hips coming faster, more erratic.

Yes please, you try again, words turning into mumbled nothings against the gag.

"Shit," Joel curses lowly, and you're jolted back to almost-reality when he forcefully tugs the bandana from your mouth and air fills your lungs in a cool rush. "One more time."

"Please," you say, voice broken and hoarse. "Yes, please. Come inside me."

You think you catch him smirk in the mirror but it's quickly replaced by something else entirely, his jaw slackening as his breath begins to stutter and his chest begins to heave, a whispered chant of, oh shit oh shit oh shit your final warning before he's spilling deep inside you.

He hardly makes a sound as his big hands come down on the vanity beside your head, thick arms all around you as he pumps his load into you. He's biting down hard on his lower lip, doing a far better job of staying quiet than you are, tired little whimpers pouring from between your lips until he's folding over your back and covering your mouth with his palm again.

You stay like that, your breath hot against his hand and his lips in your hair, until he's emptied himself completely. He frees your mouth once it's over but stays glued to your back, a heavy weight above you as both your breathing levels out.

You both shiver when he pulls out, and there's a softness in the way he tilts your face towards his now, in the way he lazily licks into your mouth at the same time that his fingers reach between your bodies to catch the come dripping out of you and push it back inside.

Eons seem to pass before he's sighing and hoisting himself off you with a gentle, "C'mon, baby." He taps your sides as he steps away but you stay where you are. You're not sure you have it in you to move just yet.

You hear the buzz of his zipper and the clang of his belt buckle and then his hands are on you again, tentative as he pulls your skirt down over your ass and smooths out the fabric.

"Hey," he murmurs, and you're pleasantly surprised at the feel of his lips pressing sweetly into your upper back. "Come on."

He tugs at your arms, gently helping pull you upright and sighing again as he takes in the sight of you. You smile, almost bashful about it, Joel carefully lifting the bandana up over your head and adjusting your hair for you with a sigh. He crouches to retrieve your cardigan and fits it back over your shoulders before slipping you back into your angel wings.

"Look up," he says, and you do, holding perfectly still as he rubs his thumbs under your eyes, caressing away drying tears and smears of black make-up.

He tuts.

"You might wanna..." He makes an errant gesture with his hand at your tarnished visage, and you understand.

The ridiculousness of it all seems to catch up with you then and you giggle breathily, shaking your head as if to wake from some perfect, lucid dream.

"Thanks," you tell him. "Joel, I'm - I'm sorry for lying to you."

Joel licks his lips and you think for a moment he's going to tell you off, scold you like you probably deserve. But then he grins and there he is again - the Joel you remember from before.

"Guess I can't really complain," he concedes, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "You're, uh - you're somethin' else, sweetheart."

You smile and Joel sighs, finally letting his hand fall. You watch him as he finds his hat, warming when he stops to kiss your cheek before making his way towards the door.

"Wait," you call quietly after him. "So would you...do you wanna do this again? While I'm in town?"

There's a lengthy beat of nervous uncertainty and then Joel laughs. He shakes his head and stares at the floor as he readorns his hat, finally turning to face you with one hand on your doorknob.

"You're gonna be trouble, aren't you, Angel?"

You smirk devilishly back at him. "You're damn right, cowboy."

You offer him a parting wink that has him shaking his head for the millionth time as he slinks discreetly out the door, closing it behind him and leaving you alone with the woman in the mirror.

[elsplayground]

Goverment Hooker

dbf Joel Miller x f!reader ( Joel is a Security Guard )

Summary: Joel miller, your dad’s best friend is a security guard for celebrities. He takes you to one of his jobs as part of a university homework you need to do, but he let his guard down.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI ! No outbreak, Unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation, explicit smut, a lil dominant Joel, secret relationship, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, fingering, semi-public sex, very slight bondage ( hand tied up, can easily be freed if wanted),Age gap, DBF Joel because who doesn't like that tbh, reader is in her 20', No body description except outfit and gender, no outbreak, porn w/plot, fluff, kind of slowburn.

w/c: 6k ( i'm actually proud for a second time )

a/n: Second smut !! i'm so proud of this one it's wayyy longer than the first one i did and like 10 times better (crying). Also theres a fanart on the banner but when i found it on pinterest the artist wasnt tagged :((( so please if you know who it is please feel free to comment !! love you whoever is reading this <3

Thank you for reading <3 notes, comments and reblog are heavily appreciated !!

“I need to do this uh…homework” you chew on your food. Good, delicious, and steamy coming right out of the stove. “I have to go to one of you two’s job and make a report” you stab one of the peas in your plate. “I mean I’d gladly take you but you know how boring my job is, huh? And your mom’s abroad” your dad says, rushing to eat his plate.

Your dad works a night job at an Amazon warehouse, something about packing orders, taking a box, putting wrapping paper and the object inside the box, taping it up, taking another box, putting wrapping paper inside, and bla bla bla… Your mom, she’s an airplane pilot going around the world. She’s barely home but she always make sure to send you some well decorated cards with landscapes on them, or to ship some gifts like magnets, you love magnets, your fridge is full of it by now but you still getting excited every time a small box arrives home. But like your dad said, you can’t possibly go with her. “Maybe you should go with Miller, from across the street, remember him ?” Of course you do, even though your dad and him didn’t meet for a long time like they used to. You kind of miss the nights around the barbecue where they would both laugh their ass off together, but now this barbecue is black and grey with dust of burnt charcoal that hasn’t been cleaned in a while. You haven’t talked to Miller since the last time the three of you met for dinner. The only interaction you’d have with him now would only stop at a little wave from across the street and a “hey how you doing?” every once in a while when leaving the house. “I mean why not…” you think. “What’s his job? We haven’t talked in a long time, wasn’t he in a contracting job or something like that ?” Your plate empty, you get up and pick up your plate along with your dad’s and put them into the dishwasher. “ yeah… think he got some problems with his brother, and they were both fired for some reasons. Now I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s wearing black suits every morning when he leaves so maybe it’s a job interesting enough for you to work on it.” He sighs, like a dad sigh, and gets up from his chair, walking out of the room. “food was good honey” he smile. That same night, your dad left for work while you’re in front of Miller’s door. The lights are on inside, it’s dim and gives a comforting vibe to his house which is quite unexpected for a man as rough and difficult as Mr. Joel Miller. You knock on the hard wood of his door, kind of hesitant because why would you go see your neighbor for a homework based on your parents? You shake your head. Whatever, no one is going to know anyways. The door open in a quick swift with a sudden smell of crackling fire and…roasted potatoes and meat? “Hey Miller,” you greet looking into his eyes, brown and sleepy. “I’m sorry to bother you but I had a question quite important.” He smile and nod “whatcha want kiddo’?”. You forgot his seductive accent, a while back it wouldn’t have the same effects that it has on you right now. You’re still a little hesitant to ask, afraid to bother him this late and during dinner. “I have this homework I’m supposed to do on one of my parent’s job. I have to go with them for like a day and make a report, but my parents are too busy, and dad told me to ask you instead” “Well, I’d gladly help you but uh, it’s quite early in’a mornin” “That’s fine, I can get up early.” You smile at him “Well now that you’re here,” he looks back to his kitchen, then back at you. “I got spare dinner here, wanna eat here so we can talk about this a little and maybe if you want…crash here for the night? The job has flexible hours so if I get a call earlier, I need ya to be ready.” This was kind of unexpected, but you’re surprised, a good surprised. “I’m down but I didn’t take any clothes with me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d agree with this.”

You laugh it off, kind of embarrassed and a bit flustered. “I’ll give you something to sleep in” he smiles.

Spending the night at his house, eating dinner with him. All these emotions, the butterflies in your stomach is all new. You never really thought about it, but hell Mr. Miller is kind of hot. You’ve always dated guys your age. Some were good and some others disappointing, but you never thought of dating someone older and especially not this old or anyone being your dad’s best friend. The forbidden love that is so slowly and so suddenly growing in you. Why now? Why him. You sit down at the end of the table. Joel’s in the kitchen preparing the food. He brings the plates to the table, and he sit at your left, close to you. And you were right, it was potatoes and meat, and it was quite good compared to what you thought Joel was capable of and it’s quite pleasing to be eating this good. After a while talking about your homework, how the day would most likely go and you daydreaming about how hot he is the more you look at him, he offers you to watch a movie before bed. You both sit down and start watching this movie called Curtis and Viper 2, you’d figure it’s his favorite since he can’t stop going “oh look here” or “I love this scene” every once in a while. After what feels like a hour, your eyes are slowly closing and before you realize, your head is on his shoulder. It was slowly falling with time, and by the look on his face he doesn’t seem to be too bothered about you getting so close to him. “Wake up sweetheart” his voice is calm. You lift your head to follow the sound of his voice “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” you say while standing up. “I think I’m gonna take a shower before bed.” You go upstairs and into the bathroom. It’s quite big and smells like colognes and 3 in 1 shampoo. You always feel weird taking a shower at other people’s house, scared someone might walk in so you cough loudly to let the whole house know someone’s in here. You take a big towel for your body, a small one for your face and hair and hang them both on the dryer to make them warm for when you get out. The water is hot and steamy, droplets hits your face like ashes from a fire and you’re hot but not just from the water. Your core keeps burning for him and it gets worst with time. You can’t stop thinking about him, His face, his body, his shirt showing every detail of his biceps, his veins going down his arm and hands, his calloused fingers from playing guitar touching you, feeling your body. Fuck. Too far. You rinse the soap off your body and step out of the shower. The light is dim and making you even more sleepy than you already are. You put on whatever moisturizer Joel has in his bathroom filled with man products, breaking your skincare for one night won’t affect your skin too much. Suddenly the door open. Maybe you should’ve fucking coughed instead of daydreaming like a teen. Joel stops, his mouth slightly open in an “o” shape.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry sweetheart I should’ve knocked first,” he turns his head around as you quickly grab your towel from the floor and wrap it around you. “ ‘forgot to give you clothes before you got in.” He hands you the clothes, his clothes, considering Sarah has left a long time ago. “It’s okay you can look, I’m covered.” You say shyly. He turns back to you and unconsciously look you up and down without saying a word. You take the stash from his hands. “Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute” you smile. You finish changing in his shirt, a too-big dark brown shirt with his name embroidered on the top right part, must be from his old job as a contractor. You figure you’d be better in your panties rather than the pants he gave you considering the weather and how warm it is in this house. You go back into the living room and start searching for a blanket to sleep in. Luckily one big enough to cover your body but not your feet is folded neatly in a drawer under the TV. “Whatcha doin?” Joel goes down the stairs. “Oh I’m just…getting my bed ready” “There’s no way you’re sleeping here,” he says, in a commanding tone “Sarah’s room is my gym now, so you’ll sleep in my bed.” You let out a muffled laugh “yeah like you’ll sleep on a damn couch with your broken back you old grandpa ?” He looks at you with a crooked smile, a little hurt since you called him a grandpa but your personality makes him smile. “Yeah well what do ya suggest smartass ?” You’re hesitant to even try to suggest it but hell if he doesn’t want you on the couch then you need to try other solutions no matter how embarrassing they can be. “Then let’s both sleep in your bed.” You both end up in his bed. It’s awkward, a lot, but at least it’s comfy. Joel is long fallen asleep while you twist and turn every few minutes trying so hard to sleep but something is keeping you awake, something deep down in your core. Joel turns and end up facing you, still sound asleep. You can’t help but look at him and all his features. His crooked nose, his wrinkles softer than when he’s awake. It makes you realize that he’s almost constantly frowning, giving him a mean gaze that could scare people that don’t know him personally. But here, now, he’s so soft and so different. Oh, and he’s shirtless. It’s distracting but you’re in panties, so it feels a bit more casual. His skin is slightly tanned, just the perfect kind of tanned at this time of the year, and it’s a good tan, a brown one not a tomato kind of tanned. Fuck, you need to sleep. You turn around trying not to think about him and finally sleep, when you suddenly feel something against you. Joel moved closer, and he’s now wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath stops for a second. It’s probably just a reflex from his body but he’s so warm, a good warm even though it’s hot under the sheets but you don’t want to wake him up. The sensation in your core is growing, like an alien trying to come out of your stomach to eat you out. “Fuck you Miller” you whisper. You hear a phone buzz and it’s waking you up. Joel is still holding you but now he’s closer and you can feel something hard on your lower back. It makes you blush but no matter how hard you try, his arm is holding you tight and you can’t escape. “Joel,” you shake his arm slowly. You hear him grumble. “Your phone is ringing”.

“Shit” he finally wakes up and it takes a few seconds for him to realize the position he’s in, and the way his body reacted to yours. “I’m so sorry, I uh… I have no excuse” he jumps out of the bed and takes his phone. He takes the call and leave the room. You check the clock. 5 a.m., you throw yourself back into the bed. “a C might’ve been better than this” you spit. Joel comes back in the room after a few minutes. “Just got a call, some job for us in a city nearby, you should get dressed” he leaves the room once again.

You put on the same clothes as yesterday, a black tank top with black shorts and some converse. You thought maybe dressing all black just like Joel’s uniform would make you look a bit more professional.

“You look stunning” Joel says, entering the room in a full black costume. It’s neatly ironed, not a single wrinkle in sight.

“Looking good too, Miller,” you walk towards him and tighten his tie a bit more.

He smiles “thanks angel”. Dammit, can’t he stop with the pet names, he’s going to make you blush.

“So, where are we going?” you tie your shoe laces in a tight ribbon

“I told ya’, a city a few minutes away from here. We’re taking my truck.”

You already took a trip in Joel’s truck when you were younger, but it was different, your dad was here to do the conversation and make things less embarrassing but now it’s a whole different situation. You still don’t know what to do with your feelings, should you tell him on the road? during the job? you can’t think straight with the small time of sleep you had.

You both hop into his truck; the weather is still quite hot for an early morning.

“How much time till we get there?” you buckle up and look at your phone.

“We got 20 minutes, you can put on some music if you want”

You connect your phone and put on some Arctic Monkeys on. You’re still debating if you should try to make a move on Joel because honestly, you’re starting to miss getting laid, and trying it out with an older guy would be fun.

But the fact that Miller is your dad’s friend makes it weird. Would he get along with it? Or would he just stop you the moment you put your lips on his?

Giving it a try won’t hurt considering you barely see him anyways so avoiding him won’t be too hard. Just no waving and no “Hi Mr. Miller” from across the street.

After like 5 minutes, Joel finally talks.

“Are you seeing anyone? Some guy from your school?” He lowers the volume of your music.

“No, why?” Here. Make a move. “Would you be jealous if I was?” you open the drawer in front of you and search for some candy, every sane people has some sweets in their car. You find a lollipop and unwrap it.

“ ‘twas just a question” he says as you put the lollipop in your mouth and lay your feet on the dashboard. He side eyes you and sigh.

“Well, no, no one’s interesting enough, I guess. Everyone is so focused on school; I haven’t seen a single person kiss another in the corridors or in some empty classes.”

You lick at your lollipop as you make eye contact with him. “Guess I should try older.” You smirk.

You see him adjust in his seat and taking a deep breath. He turns the volume back on to the song.

“How many secrets can you keep ?

‘Cause there’s this tune I found

That makes me think of you

somehow”

This song couldn’t be even more on point than now.

“What about you,” you ask, “You seeing anyone?”

“Not really, not really searchin’ for sum’ serious right now” he leans on the edge of his window, putting his hand into a fist to cover his mouth, he fidgets.

“So like… you just want sex?”

He chokes on his own saliva and coughs “What the fuck are you on about? Jesus “he spits “I mean, maybe, but I’m not actively searching or anythin’” 

“You got any age preference?” You take a chance.

“Uh…No, not really” You turn to him, making your belt a bit longer so you can get comfortable.

“Would you fuck me?” You lick on your lollipop; it has become a small pink ball now with all the sucking and licking.

“Jesus girl, you’re my best friend’s daughter” he doesn’t even seem angry or annoyed at the question somehow.

“You didn’t say no though” you smile.

“Doesn’t mean I agree.”

“Okay but, imagine if I wasn’t, would you?” he keeps looking at your lips while you talk.

“You gotta learn how to walk before learning how to run, sweetheart”

“What if I wanna run though?” You say as his grip tightens on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

You both arrive at a hotel Joel’s company booked before you two arrived. It’s a nice place, a 5 stars hotel. He must stay at the same hotel as the person he has to protect, obviously.

“They booked us…well, me, a single bedroom since it wasn’t really planned for you to come, so we’ll have to share a bed” Joel say

“Again” you smirk. He’s probably already annoyed by you, but he still hasn’t complain, you just assume.

“Come” her orders you, you follow him to the room.

It’s quite big, it has a double bed with dark burgundy sheets and pillows, a big shower along the right side of the room that is basically the size of a whole bathroom, there’s two showerheads and the walls are transparent, so yes, a few meters long shower. What for? No idea.

The toilets are on the other side of the room along with a double sink and a huge light up mirror and fancy soaps you will definitely steal. There’s windows and a balcony in the between with a fancy view on the city.

“We’re gonna have to sleep here tonight if that’s okay with ya’, we might come back home late, and the room is free so we should enjoy instead of going home.”

two nights in a row in the same bed as Joel wasn’t something you’ve planned but you’re not mad about it, to be honest. As long as your assignment is complete…hopefully.

“We got an hour before we have to leave,” he put his bag to the side of the bed. “You can sleep a bit if you want, try to take back the hours of sleep you lost.”

Wait? is he aware that you were awake? Did he grab you on purpose? There’s no way.

“I’m not really tired anymore,” you sit on the bed in front of Joel as he unbuttons his suit jacket. You look up at him and bite your lips. You’re praying inside that he doesn’t reject you, that he follows your movements.

“Well, ion’ know what else you could do besides wait here like a behaved girl” Fuck, was this intentional? If not, it still turned you on.

You have no idea what to do right now, unbuckle his belt, suck him off? Or tease him?

Tease him.

You stand up and start walking towards the huge transparent walls shower, taking off your clothes on the way. Once arrived in the shower, you stand under the showerhead, open the water hose, and turn around searching for Joel.

He’s looking at you with black eyes, devouring you with his hands on his hips.

“Fuck” he spits.

He hurries to unbutton his shirt and take his fancy well ironed pants off along with his boxer.

Oh.My.God.

Your heart has never raced this fast in your life. He’s so big and he’s not even hard yet, you wonder how you never notice it before.

He gets into the shower and stand right in front of you under the shower, the water dripping down his hair and the tip of his nose.

“I don’t know what the fuck ya’ want from me, but you’re tempting me you fucking tease” His word travel down your spine and reaches your core.

His hands slide down your side, reaching your panty line.

“You have an hour to choose if you want to have fun or if you wanna go get a snack and get ready to write your lil’ presentation about me” his face gets closer to yours as your back arches.

“What if I want you to be my snack?” You say, slightly touching the tip of his cock growing bigger the more he looks at you.

He takes your wrists and pin them above your head and hold them up with one of his hands as the other grip one of your breasts. His fingertips are slightly twisting your nipple as he brings his lips to yours, indulging in a dirty, filthy kiss being washed away by the water running down.

Your hand grabs his shaft, stroking it slowly. “You’re so dam’ teasing’, if your father finds out I’m making out with his daughter, I’m a dead man” he growls as your hand twist slightly when reaching the tip of his cock

“We can keep it secret.” You smirk

“You wanna be my dirty little secret, huh?”

You hear a phone ringing on the bed, but Joel turns your head back to him. “Leave it, they’ll call back.”

After a session of teasing and kissing in the too-big shower, the both of you come out of it all wet and steamy. Joel picks up a towel and wrap it around you. He takes another one, smaller, and dries your hair with it. He is so gentle even though you’ve been closed to him for a few hours only, the day before he would only see you as the daughter of your best friend that lives across the street, nothing more.

Joel walks to the bed and pick up his phone, his towel around his hips.

“Fuck!” He screams. “Boss called, the woman I was supposed to work for left earlier, we should’ve been gone by now” He put his clothes back on, muttering shit shit shit while doing so.

A black car with tinted windows comes out of the underground garage of the hotel and stops right in front of you.

“You’re in fucking trouble Miller” The driver guy said. He is big, his black vest almost merging into one with his muscles.

Joel opens the door for you and almost pushes you in.

“We’re ten minutes away from her, you better get yourself ready M” he says, hitting the gas.

 You feel something on your thigh, crawling all the way from your knee to the base of your leg, Joel’s warm hands are touching you, slowly going towards your inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He gets closer to your ear while his hand finally touches your clit through your panties.

“You got me in trouble, made me lose my mind just so I could touch you,” He pulls your panties to the side and slide two fingers through your slit, wetting them just before entering your core with thick digits.

You struggle to keep your pleasure to yourself as a few squeals comes out of your mouth. The car is going fast, the sound of the engine covering whatever filthy sounds you make.

His other hand is reaching for the neckline of your top, his finger slightly pulls on it to have a quick peek of your breasts. You keep panting, his finger crooked into you, reaching that soft spongy spot that makes you shiver if it’s played with a little too much.

“ ‘Atta girl” he say, your heart pounding harder, getting closer to your climax and then…

He stops. Fuck

Your walls are clenching around nothing, it’s demanding for more, something bigger. It’s only waiting for him, but how much longer can you hold it?

The car pulls up to a fancy restaurant with a forest green and gold storefront. You see a few paparazzi outside taking pictures from afar, probably of the girl inside.

The driver gets out of the car and pull out his phone, calling to get orders.

“Take them off” Joel says looking at you, then your hips

“What…My panties?” you frown.

“Yeah” He smirk, and he’s so damn hot when he does.

You take your shorts off along with your panties. They’re black with some floral lace at the top, hot but still comfortable and covering.

Joel takes it in his hands and makes a small ball of fabric out of it and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. “Mine” he whispers, kissing you one last time before getting out of the car, holding out his hand for you to follow him.

“We have to secure the perimeter and make sure none of this fuckers get in” the big guy say as you take out your notebook and a pen from your backpack and start taking notes: how things start, Joel’s role, his coworkers, and other thing you couldn’t care less about because right now your mind is focused on Joel and not his work, more like the stuff in his pants.

You follow Joel inside the restaurant as he gives his name to the front desk. He sits you at a table near the outside window.

 “Sit here so I can keep an eye on ya’ from outside, take your notes here…look at me and scribble whatever you needa scribble,” he gently caresses your hair as you look up to him “Order anything ya’ want, it’s on me sweetheart” he kisses your forehead and rushes outside, seating at an outside table as a server brings him a cup of coffee. He looks so damn professional for a man who has finger fucking you just a few minutes ago while on your side, you can’t stop thinking about him, your inner thigh still dripping wet.

You order the breakfast menu with some fancy beacon and eggs with toast that cost way too much for little to no change compared to the ones you make at home.

The lady Miller and his big friend are supposed to watch is not far away from you, she’s really pretty, you actually don’t know who she is but considering her style she might be a model, or an actor…or a singer?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you see a number pulling up with a text.

Unknown Number: Still wet baby ?

You: Joel ??? howd u get my number?????

You save his number into your contacts.

Joel: Your dad just gave it to me, in case

You put your phone back on the table and keep writing stuff on your notebook, adding more details to the things you’ve already summed up earlier.

Your phone buzzes again.

Joel:  what you writing ?

You:  Shouldn’t u be watching that girl instead of me ?

Joel: yeah but I’d rather focus on you and ur bare pussy

You: omg shut up and do your work so I can have an A+

After a full day of running around town following that lady no matter where she’d go; Louis Vuitton, Prada, a random grocery store for some Redbull. All this while Joel and the big guy were watching her along with a few paparazzi they had to push away. You? You were standing behind Joel the whole time, trying not to be a menace to his job like this morning. All this time of walking around in no panties with only your shorts for cover, you finally go back to your hotel room, exhausted.

“Fuck it I’m so damn tired” You pant after walking up to your room.

Joel comes from behind, throwing your bag away and grabs you from behind, nestling his nose in your neck.

“You too exhausted to get taken care of angel?” you feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin. “Maybe I have a little energy to play a bit” you smile too.

He spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away in a second. He starts undoing your shorts, freeing your cunt for good. He immediately slides his hand down to feel the wetness between your legs.

“You’re so damn wet, is it all because a’me baby?” he says, close to your ear.

“You made me wait all day long,” you say, “don’t act so surprised.”

“Stop being such a brat, honey, I’m gonna take good care of you, like no one did before.”

 And you know he doesn’t lie, just this morning in the shower and in the car, he treated you way better than any man did before, not that Miller is so damn special but the boys you were with were mostly unexperienced or scared, now at least he knows where your clit and your G spot is.

You’d never thought you’d do this with a person way older than you but now that you think about it, it should’ve been on your bucket list for a while.

He starts kissing you, again and again, not letting a single air particle get through your mouth as he pushes you until the back of your knees touches the table behind you. He grabs your waist, lift you up and sits you on it.

He quickly parts your legs to make space for him as you start to unbutton his plain white shirt.

“You’re so damn hot in that costume Mr. Miller,” you say as he growls for an answer “too bad we need to take it off.”

His bulge is growing bigger with time, his tip pushing onto the zipper. You’re still amazed by how big it is, even though it hurts sometimes it can be exciting.

He finally unzips his pants and take his boxer away while you take your shirt off in a hurry. His cock is throbbing, touching in between your legs almost like its attracted to you like a magnet.

The horniness is high today, the both of you couldn’t stop looking at each other. Him scanning your body up and down when you walk, devouring you with his eyes.

“I hope you touch yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me after that” and he’s right, you might. Touching yourself surely isn’t as good as Joel touching you, or even fucking with him which you’re going to find out, but maybe thinking of him would make it better.

Excitement is pooling in your core, and it’s about to overflow. Your body is heating up as Joel rub himself against your folds, spreading your fluids all over his shaft. Your hips can’t stop moving back and forth almost begging for him to finally get in, to fill you, possess you.

“Please, Joel, please just fuck me already” you keep begging for him.

A slight laugh comes out of his mouth as he finally pushes in and fuck, he’s so big, bigger than you thought it would be inside of you but it’s just perfect. He stretches you just right, almost like he belonged to you, and you belonged to him like a key belongs to one single door.

He starts pushing in, slowly, but your body decided otherwise and started pushing in even more.

“Hey honey, relax,” he takes back the inches you took from him “I wanna go slow, don’t wanna hurt my girl” The stretch did hurt a little bit but it’s like your pussy needs more.

His hips are going back and forth slowly but it still makes you moan, his thick shaft stimulating your inside just right.

“Just like that, baby.” He wet his lips. Your hand goes down and rubs your clit, following his pace.

“That’s it girl, keep touching yourself like that,” he rasps. His head falls back as he feels you tighten around him. “I love seeing you touch yourself like that baby”.

His hips start to trust faster and deeper, rubbing on your g-spot making you shiver after a few times with your hand stimulating you.

Your nails keep digging into his back, and it hurts him. You know because he keeps frowning. “Fuck baby your nails are sharp as fuck” Getting long black Stiletto nails was a bad idea.

He crashes his lips onto yours as he suddenly lifts you up in his arms, his cock still in you.

“Imma make you pay for those marks” He says as he look in the mirror behind him giving a full view on the mark you imprinted on him.

He throws you onto the bed, making your walls suddenly clench around nothing. You see him grab his tie he left on the bed earlier and brings it around your wrists.

“Oh -- so your form of punishment is to tie me up, huh?” you smile.

“Uh huh” he nods.

He makes a tight knot; you know for sure it’s going to leave marks on your wrists…that’s his way of making you pay for his.

He throws your arms over your head, one of his hands holding you down. Your unable to move, unable to feel his body with your hands, this is the worst punishment you could think of for your first time knowing you probably won’t see each other for a while once you go back home, unless you hide, all this until maybe this goes further and one day you reveal to your dad that you’re fucking his best friend for a while. Damn it, you shouldn’t be thinking about this, right now you should focus on Miller and enjoy the night while it last.

He keeps fucking you deep and rough, your hand still tied up firmly. He pounds into you, changing his pace from time to time until you’re on the edge of cumming, finally.

“Joel please, I’m so close” your brows furrow, your head is spinning with excitement, and it get worse the closer to your climax you get.

“Cum for me baby, I’ll cum after you do” Looks like he put women first, he’s a gentleman.

After more moans, and more trusting, you finally come, your juices spreading all over him.

“Atta’ girl, good job” he praises you, and fuck he’s doing it well. He finally comes too, emptying out on your belly.

“Fuck Joel, I love you”

You didn’t mean to say that – but maybe you do, kind of. Good thing he doesn’t seem to have noticed as he kisses your forehead, gets up and walk to the opened shower. He comes back holding a small towel that he submerged in warm water. “There, baby” he says while cleaning your tummy.

After a whole night fucking with Joel multiple times and discovering more things about your body, and new positions, you finally go back home. Your essay is done and hopefully going through all this will get you an A+.

You’re on your couch with your dad, talking about how your day went while watching TV, obviously skipping the whole fucking your best friend part, when the broadcast is showing pictures of the woman Joel had to cover yesterday.

“Oh, look that’s her !” You say, excited. “That’s the woman we were with yesterday, didn’t talk to her, she seemed nice even though she’s a celebrity and they’re often viewed as self-centered and unaware but she-“

Your dad pauses the TV and looks at you with wide eyes, cutting you off. You look at the image on the wide flat screen and see you and Joel kissing in 4K HD right in front of your dad, furious. Your heart skips a beat, or multiple.

“You got some explaining to do, young girl.”

<3 Hr43s

[ratpacman]

i play the last of us for the plot

the plot:

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

Chapter One: I Know He's Crazy, But He's The One I Want

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking around, FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Kissing, Barely any plot, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content,

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Happy “The Tortured Poets Department” release! I couldn’t help but shriek with joy when I heard But Daddy I Love Him. Literally, dad best friend Joel Miller coded. I would like to thank @wheresarizona for dealing with my spam in her messages from me as I was yapping about the new album and gushing over her writing; she’s literally one of the best writers ever. That is a fact and I will die on that hill.

This fic is heavily inspired by all of the dad's best friend books and dbf!Joel Miller fics I have read over the years. It is with great honor (and a lot of fucking fear) to present to you this Frankenstein of all of my fav tropes!

Heads up, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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As you walk past the neighboring house, you observe the real estate agent meticulously placing the 'SOLD' banner onto the weathered for sale sign. A strange sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that someone has finally purchased the property.

Entering your home, you release a sigh of relief as the familiar comfort washes over you. With a casual toss, your keys and bag find their place on the hallway table. The urge to call out to your dad bubbles up, but it freezes in your throat when you're met with an unexpected sound drifting from his home office.

Your heart quickens as you peek inside, only to find your dad's best friend, Joel Miller, lounging on the plush brown lazy boy. His deep, resonant voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine even before you lay eyes on him.

Clutching the doorframe for support, you fight to steady your nerves. With trembling fingers, you manage to force a smile onto your lips, though it feels strained. "Hey, Dad. Hey… Joel," you manage to squeak, the mere sound of his name stirring a flurry of emotions within you.

The room feels stiflingly quiet as you wait for a response, the weight of Joel's gaze almost tangible. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his intense eyes meet yours. His attention feels almost palpable, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a rush of warmth through your body. With a low, almost imperceptible grunt of acknowledgment, Joel's gaze finally breaks away, leaving you breathless in his wake.

You try to avert your gaze out of sheer habit, but it's futile, like trying not to be drawn to the most captivating, exquisite sight in existence.

God, it's as if he's been carved from pure perfection, each time you lay eyes on him.

That same intense, brooding look he wore the day of your college graduation, late last year, still grips you. And it seems Joel's gaze has the same effect on your dad, eliciting a familiar reaction. With a quick double-take, your dad shoots a glance at his best friend before swiveling in his seat.

"Hey there, sweetheart, just catching up with Joel. He dropped by for a surprise visit," your dad starts, but he halts mid-sentence, noticing your undeniable reaction. Concern etches his features as he addresses you. "Honey?" he prompts, his voice laced with worry, as you struggle to find your voice for the umpteenth time in mere seconds.

Joel's gaze narrows, his jaw clenching as his intense scrutiny roams over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

As you cling to the doorframe, you can't help but notice the subtle movement of Joel's prominent Adam's apple, betraying his own unease.

Breaking the tension, your dad's nervous chuckle pierces the silence, attributing my apparent moodiness to your usual banter. He turns back to Joel, commenting on his friend's expression.

"What's going on with you two?" he quips, his tone shifting from light-hearted to serious in an instant. "Feels like there's some dirty secret between you," your dad adds, the jest evaporating from his voice. Yet, Joel remains unfazed by your dad's observation, his gaze still locked onto you as a faint smile curves his lips.

His lips curl into a smirk, accentuating the charming dimple that appears in his slightly scruffy beard whenever he smiles—a sight that never fails to tug at your heartstrings.

But as your dad's suspicion lingers in the air, Joel's demeanor shifts, yet you still struggle to connect the dots regarding why he's been giving you that look since graduation.

That day was meant to mark a pivotal moment in your life, celebrating the culmination of years of hard work in college. Yet, Joel's presence, the way he gazed at you, and the unexpected intensity of his hug during the congratulations... It's forever etched in your memory for reasons beyond the academic achievement.

And at the center of it all is one word: Joel.

He's a towering figure, a mix of solid muscle and the comforting softness of his belly. In the moment, you brushed off his tight embrace after receiving your diploma as merely the enthusiasm of the occasion.

But as you felt his whole body pressing right into yours during that hug, you knew it wasn’t your regular type of embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear. And though you didn’t catch his next words as clearly, you're certain he said something else that day. “…You feel so fuckin’ good….”

At least, that's what you've been convincing yourself he said. You recall gazing up into those big brown eyes, the same intense look he's giving you now, and wondering the same thing. How could an older, dangerously attractive man like Joel be even remotely interested in someone like you? Apart from being your dad’s best friend, he's more than twice your age and lives on the other side of the country with his daughter, Sarah.

You can almost picture the scandalized gasps of the single older women and ex-wives in your town, clutching their pearls and whispering, "What a mess," if you and Joel ever got together; if he was even remotely interested in you like that.

But you've replayed that scene in your mind every day since, and no matter how hard you try, there's just no denying your secret crush on him.

It all started long before college, your feelings for Joel simmering beneath the surface. Back then, you couldn't quite grasp what it was you felt for him. All you knew was that it felt right, and that feeling remains unchanged. Despite the nerves and shyness that being around him brings, there's another undeniable effect he has on you.

Like the overwhelming desire to sink back and beg him to indulge in things that his best friend's daughter probably shouldn't be fantasizing about. It's been a while since you last saw Joel, but he still exudes the same charm and looks even more handsome and fit than before, thanks to his job in construction as a contractor.

And when you receive that same look from him today, when your dad even jokes about his suspicions, you know Joel remembers that day too. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the moment he pulled you close, a memory etched as your most cherished moment so far.

"Well, I reckon’ my presence here might come as a bit of a surprise," Joel rasps, his gaze locked with yours as he emits a low chuckle for your dad's benefit. Unnoticed by your dad, Joel shoots you a sly wink, and you watch as your dad's tension melts away. He's relieved to know he wasn't imagining things, and undoubtedly thrilled once he hears Joel's news. "I'm moving here, right next door with Sarah. Tommy should be dropping her off here tomorrow," he announces with enthusiasm, but you feel the pit of your stomach drop.

Joel... here? For good? Oh, fuck.

Your dad erupts into loud whoops, raising both hands in the air. "It's about time, buddy! I knew you were keeping something from me," he adds, turning to you once again. "You were aware of this?" he asks, furrowing his brow with a hint of confusion. 

"You knew Joel and Sarah were coming to town, didn’t you?" Dad repeats, finally grinning like a child at the news. Smiling like a dad who's pushed aside any notion of his best friend showing interest in his only daughter. And you catch a sly grin on Joel’s face as he comes to your rescue. "Oh, I mentioned I might pay a visit. Buttercup here wasn't aware of the specifics or that Sarah and I would be relocatin’ back here," he explains to your dad.

But when Joel smoothly fibs to your dad, insinuating that you were aware of his impending move back to town, even though it caught you completely off guard, he seals an instant and secret pact between the two of you with a single glance. His deep brown eyes wink at you, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You realize you're in deeper trouble than you initially thought. And strangely enough, it's the kind of trouble you welcome with open arms.

In that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between you and Joel. With just a wink from him, your chest flutters with excitement, and a wave of anticipation rushes through you, leaving you feeling unexpectedly aroused at the prospect of having him nearby all the time. You're fully committed now, Joel's lie to his best friend serving as a shield for both of you, deflecting attention away from the undeniable tension between you.

"Sarah called last week," you fabricate, deciding to play along with Joel's deception. "As we were chatting, Joel mentioned something about visiting. It must've slipped my mind to mention it to you," you explain to your dad, hoping he'll buy into the white lie. Joel's low growl of contentment as he leans back, causing the leather chair to creak, reassures you that he approves of your little ruse.

Your dad's elation at the news of his best friend's return to their quaint little town is palpable, enough to overshadow any scolding he might have had for your omission about Sarah and Joel's supposed call.

But the truth remains: Sarah never called, and Joel's mysterious behavior is raising more questions than answers.

A surprise visit is one thing, but the intensity of Joel's gaze? The way he makes you feel? It's enough to give your long-standing crush on him a serious run for its money.

"But damn, Sarah will be here tomorrow?" your dad groans before chuckling. "A bit more notice would've been nice, but hell, it'll be good to see you, buddy."

"Listen, I've got something I can't postpone tomorrow. Maybe my daughter here could accompany you to pick up Sarah from the airport?" your dad suggests, turning his attention towards you.

Somewhere behind you, a strange sound escapes—it's you, emitting a sort of mewling noise that you know Joel catches, his smile widening in response.

"Sounds perfect," he agrees before you even have a chance to process it.

"Sweetie?" your dad asks, his tone sheepish now that he's volunteered you without asking if you were available.

You can only watch as the room seems to spin around you, nodding in agreement. "Yeah... sure, I don't have any tutoring sessions tomorrow."

"Perfect!" your dad sighs with relief, promising Joel they'll catch up later. "But I really need to get back to the shop. Are you alright here with her to help you settle into your new house with whatever you brought? The rest of your stuff hasn't arrived yet."

"Yeah, we'll be just fine," Joel assures in his trademark baritone, locking eyes with you.

You were so fixated on Joel's presence that you hadn't noticed the bags by the side of the home office.

"Sweetie? You sure you're okay to help? You look kind of..." your dad starts, but you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before replying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I can help."

"Alright then," your dad grabs his car keys, ready to leave the home office. He gives you both a final glance, kissing the top of your head. "I'll be back for dinner. Have fun, you two!"

You and Joel remain frozen in place, him on one side of the room and you by the doorway, both listening to your dad's fading footsteps and the rumble of his truck as he drives away.

You’re so fucked.

It's been six long months since you last saw each other, and for Joel, it's felt like an eternity. The day of your graduation marked the first time he laid eyes on you in over three years, and it was as if he was seeing you for the very first time.

You've grown into a remarkable adult, and Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming need to be there, not only for his buddy, your dad, but also for his sweet Buttercup. Witnessing his little girl all grown up and ready to embark on her journey into the world with her diploma was a moment he'll never forget. He'd never seen his best friend prouder, yet his gaze lingered on you for entirely different reasons.

Reasons and desires that had never crossed Joel's mind until that day. He couldn't resist pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his.

What was he thinking? Surely, everyone could see the effect you had on him.

But Joel wasn't thinking, he was acting on instinct. He was claiming what he knew belonged to him. Telling you he was proud of you was one thing, but he's still unsure if you heard what else he said about how good you felt in his arms.

Yet, he doesn't regret it. Because it was true then, and it remains true now. He just wishes he knew if you felt the same way. If you felt it in the same way he did. But how could you possibly feel the same way about him as he has about you these past six months?

Joel couldn't deny that there were many reasons why the relationship between you was complicated. For one, there was the age difference - you were more than half his age. Apart from having the kind of body he could grip, suck and fuck for a lifetime, additionally, you were his best friend's daughter, a bond that ran deep and could not be ignored.

That day, Joel took a risk, blurring the lines and potentially jeopardizing not just his friendship with your dad, but also the bond he shared with you by being so affectionate.

Surprisingly, you didn't seem to mind his gestures, and Joel was convinced that your dad hadn't even noticed. Despite the undeniable attraction he felt towards you, a feeling that lingered and intensified with every thought of you, Joel couldn't shake the worry that his actions might have caused a rift.

As days turned into weeks without any word from your dad, Joel's mind raced with doubts. He couldn't help but question if you had confided in your father about his behavior. Perhaps your dad had sensed Joel's infatuation with you, leading to a silence that spoke volumes.

Intrusive thoughts plagued Joel, wondering if you had been uncomfortable with his displays of affection. The fear that you might have someone else in your life to hold onto gnawed at him, leaving him restless and anxious about the potential consequences of his actions.

Joel and your dad used to share conversations daily, a bond that time and life's demands have gradually weakened, particularly with Sarah still navigating middle school. They both acknowledge the need to reconnect more often, yet something always seems to intervene.

But Joel's decision to visit your father in person wasn't impulsive; it was a deliberate choice, driven by a desire to stay for good this time.

No more fleeting visits. This time, it's permanent.

And it's all because of you.

Since your graduation day, you've occupied Joel's thoughts relentlessly. It's more than just an obsession; you're the sole focus of his mind, consuming his every waking moment.

You are the only thing he can fucking think about.

Joel would never dare voice his thoughts to your dad, not just because of his feelings, but also because your father had a history of using his fists to settle matters. If he even suspected a fraction of what Joel's mind was consumed with regarding his daughter... Well, Joel would never be allowed in your home, with your dad likely ensuring Joel carried a permanent reminder of his displeasure.

Despite his reluctance to keep secrets from his lifelong friend, Joel's motivation to act stems from a burning need that is beyond his mere desire to reunite with you.

He doesn't just want to see you again; he craves it with a fervor that borders on desperation. And the only way to satisfy this yearning is to summon the courage to ask for more.

Reconnecting with your dad was pleasant, but the sight of you, standing in the doorway of the home office, unleashes a torrent of emotions within Joel. It's as though he's been trapped in a deep freeze for the past six months, and your mere presence ignites a firestorm within him.

Every curve of your silhouette, every strand of hair framing your face, fuels Joel's desire until it simmers beyond control, all for you.

As you watched him, his gaze never wavered from your presence, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He was grateful for the chair that supported him, as he felt the insanely hard erection you gave him.

Your natural grace and beauty had left him breathless, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

All from just being yourself. All without you even trying to do anything. 

You really are just fucking perfect in every way.

You're now an adult, poised to embrace all the challenges and pleasures that adulthood entails. The mere thought sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you once more, evoking memories of his touch on that unforgettable graduation day.

The intoxicating blend of his woodsy cologne, the creak of his well-worn leather jacket, and the soft fabric of his grey tee shirt against your skin linger in your mind, igniting a longing for more.

The sensation that floods Joel as he lays eyes on you in person after so long defies description.

It takes all his willpower to resist the impulse to stride over and scoop you up, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to claim you as his own and to drag you into your bedroom. But he restrains himself, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve, waiting for any sign from you that you're ready for his embrace.

When your gaze meets his, he witnesses the hitch in your breath, and he can't help but murmur, "Come here, sweetheart." Your response is like a magnetic pull, drawing you into his strong, steadfast arms. As you melt into his embrace, he's struck by the sense of finally being home. You are his home now.

Joel inhales the sweet fragrance of your hair, longing to whisper countless sentiments into your perfect little ear nestled so close to his mouth.

But all he can muster, without risking scaring you away, is a simple declaration in his southern drawl, "I missed you, my little buttercup."

You bury your face into his checkered flannel, your words muffled against his shirt as you confess, "I missed you too, Joel."

Your body instinctively gravitates towards his, fueled by both necessity and reflex. The memory of his last embrace has haunted your thoughts for the past six months, and as his massive, comforting arms envelop you once more, it feels as though you're picking up right where you left off. He feels even better than you remembered, and the mingling scents of his cologne and freshly laundered clothes stir a desire within you to cling to him forever.

Reluctantly, he releases you from the hug, clearing his throat as you take a small step back, managing to squeak out, “Do you want a cup of coffee before you get settled in your new house? You look kinda tired.”

“Sure,” Joel nods, and you sense him hovering behind you as you descend the staircase and enter the kitchen. You can feel his eyes tracing your movements from behind.

You busy yourself preparing the coffee as Joel sets his things down, knowing it'll provide the perfect opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, his gaze remains fixed on your curves as you move around the kitchen. In that moment, he realizes there's no way he can stay in this house for more than an hour, without confessing his feelings to you.

“You got a boyfriend?”

The sudden question nearly causes you to spill hot water all over your hand, and you freeze, feeling a slight tremble coursing through you.

“Well?” Joel's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, as if you're caught in the midst of the most exhilarating earthquake imaginable. Your mouth hangs open, unsure of how to respond.

“Boyfriend or not?” he repeats, his tone commanding. “Not,” you answer instantly, not minding the question one bit, especially when you see its effect on Joel.

“Good. Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone.

Turning back to the kitchen counter, the clinking of ceramic cups fills the room, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as the heat spreads throughout your body and to the tips of your ears.

“Cream and sugar?” you ask, turning your head just long enough to inquire.

The sight of your body shifting under your clothes already ignites fantasies in Joel's mind, imagining all the ways he could pleasure you, even right there on your dad's kitchen floor if you desired.

“Joel?” you prompt, breaking him out of his daydream.

“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” he echoes, noticing your continued blush and slight trembling as you prepare the cups. As you approach him with the coffee, the sudden sound of your dad's voice startles you, causing you to drop one cup, which shatters on the floor.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he rushes to the sink to run cold water over the affected area.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," you reply, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I thought you were gone," you add, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I just forgot something. I came back to get it," your father explains, his eyes darting nervously between you and Joel.

Your father's gaze is fixed on Joel, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Joel's obvious concern for you. Anyone could see the way Joel feels about you, and your father's disapproval is palpable.

But you're not a child anymore, and you're tired of your father's disapproval. "Dad, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that?" you ask, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come. He sighs and shakes his head, gathering the pieces of the broken cup and tossing them in the trash on his way out. The sound of his car speeding away speaks volumes.

"Maybe I should go," Joel suggests, but you wave off his concern.

"Don't worry about my dad. He's been weird ever since I graduated from college," you say, dismissing his concerns.

But Joel knows that your father's suspicions go back further than just this morning. He moves to help you clean up the mess on the floor, ignoring the broken glass and coffee spill. Gently, he takes your hand in his, wincing at the stinging and burn.

"Let's get this under some cold water," he says, leading you to the sink. You lean back against him as he guides your hand under the icy flow, your body yielding to his touch.

"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. You nod, leaning into him as the cold water soothes your burn.

Joel's heart races as he holds you, feeling your warmth against him. He knows that your father doesn't approve of him, but he can't help how he feels. He's fallen for you, hard, and he's not going to let your father's disapproval get in the way.

"It feels better now," you whisper, your breath sending shivers down Joel's spine. He moves closer to you, feeling the pressure of your back against his aching cock.

"I can't help but notice how your body is responding to mine," Joel says, his voice low and husky.

"Should we start over?" he asks, leaning down so his mouth is close to your ear.

"You mean with the coffee?" you ask, playing coy. But your body is telling a different story.

"I mean starting over without your dad around," Joel clarifies, moving his hand to stroke the back of your neck.

You turn to face him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. "Just stay," you say, biting your lip.

Joel nods, his hands resting on your hips. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," he promises. "I'll be right next door, whenever you need me."

You stand there, close enough to kiss, but Joel holds back. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"I meant what I said that day you graduated," Joel whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You feel so fucking good."

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel his arousal pressing against your back, and he grips your hips, pulling you closer.

You plead with Joel to stay, not just because of how the morning has unfolded but because deep down, you need him by your side.

The words you long to say to Joel linger on the tip of your tongue, but the rush of emotions leaves you speechless. Your heart races as you grapple with the intensity of your feelings, unsure of how to express them.

As you run your hand under the cold water, trying to steady your nerves, you suggest preparing the spare room as a distraction. Anything to divert your thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you.

The tension between you and Joel crackles in the air, the unspoken desire palpable. His longing mirrors your own, creating a charged atmosphere that leaves you both on edge.

"Is your hand goin' to be okay?" Joel's voice is laced with concern as he looks at you, and you nod in response.

"It's just a minor burn from the coffee," you murmur, trying to focus on the task.

"Shall I make us more coffee?" Joel offers, already cleaning up the mess on the floor. But your attention is drawn to the undeniable presence pressing against your back, sending a rush of sensations through you.

Your heart races as you realize the extent of Joel's desire, his arousal evident in every inch of his being.

"I'm not tired," Joel says, his voice low and intimate as he picks up the broken pieces of the mug.

"And I meant what I said earlier," he adds, his tone dropping to a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it hard to focus on anything else. You should feel embarrassed, and remind him of boundaries, but the magnetic pull between you is undeniable.

"What did you mean?" you ask, a hint of defiance in your voice, craving his words like a drug.

His lips curl into a knowing smile as he repeats his earlier statement, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

"You feel so good," Joel says, his words sending a surge of heat through you, your cheeks flushing with desire.

"Is that why you came back?" you inquire, emboldened by the charged atmosphere between you.

"What do you think?" Joel replies, closing the distance between you, the space crackling with unspoken promises and desires.

You feel trapped, torn between your desires and the weight of your past.

Your hands tremble as you press them against Joel's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You slide your fingers down, curling around a button on his flannel shirt.

"My dad, for Sarah," you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your touch.

"I didn't come back to town just to see your dad," he says, his voice low and steady. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable either."

He pauses, taking another deep breath before he continues. "What I mean is, what I'm tryin’ to ask you, is could you have feelings for an older man? A man like me, maybe?"

His eyes bore into yours, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. You know what he's asking, and your heart races at the thought of giving in to your desires.

"I want to hear it from your lips," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "I like you a lot, Joel," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But?" he prompts, giving you an out if you need it.

You look up at Joel, your eyes pleading with him to make the decision for you. But there's no hesitation in his gaze. He leans in, pressing his warm lips against your hand, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.

"Does it feel like this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the heat that's building inside you.

"Do you really want me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You moan, unable to contain your desire any longer.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I want you."

Joel growls, a low, primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. He presses your hand against his stiff erection, and you can feel the heat and hardness of him through his jeans.

You trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, forgetting all about the burn on your hand, the hot coffee, and even your dad and his house. All that matters is the feel of Joel's body against yours, the heat and hardness of him that you've longed for since graduation day.

"Then come here," he growls, leaning down further and taking your face in his palm. You shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over yours means neither of you will ever have to ask that question again.

Joel's lips are soft and tender, but his kiss is urgent and demanding. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a hunger you've never felt before.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's been waiting for this moment for years. You respond in kind, your hands tugging at his flannel shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

The heat between you builds, until you're both panting and gasping for breath. Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you dizzy with desire.

Joel can't help himself as he lifts you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around him as he devours your mouth with his own. His hands roam your body, feeling the curves and contours of your figure as if for the first time.

You respond eagerly, your hands tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss. Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself growing wet with desire.

Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you gasp with pleasure. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you feel his hardness against your thigh.

He makes you purr and moan, fulfilling every fantasy you've ever had. Your hands move down to his throbbing cock, gripping and squeezing him through his denim, but you both know this is just the beginning.

Joel has already crossed the line he set for himself, unable to resist the pull between you. He wants more than just a physical connection; he wants all of you, your heart, your soul, your everything.

He envisions a future with you, a life where you're by his side, where you're free to be yourself, to indulge in every desire and dream. He wants to give you a home, a place where you can be truly happy, where the two of you can explore each other endlessly.

As you catch your breath, Joel eases his hold on you, sensing the need for a moment of clarity. Your smile and the flush in your cheeks speak volumes, reassuring him that you're on the same page.

"Holy shit," you exclaim, breathless and exhilarated. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath your touch.

Joel exhales slowly, realizing he may have moved too quickly for you. "Too much, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle, relieved when you giggle and nod in agreement.

But he sees the worry in your eyes, the need for understanding and space. You grip his flannel, pulling him close for a quick kiss, your words a mix of desire and uncertainty.

"I want this... I want you, Joel. I do," you confess, your voice filled with longing and hesitation.

"Just... not right now, not like this," you trail off, and Joel finishes your sentence, understanding the need for time and space to process everything.

He lifts you off the counter, noting how light you feel in his arms. He watches you pace the kitchen, a mix of emotions playing across your face. He settles on a stool, giving you the space you need to sort through your thoughts.

"I didn't think you were leading me on, and I didn't mean to be so forward," Joel says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time, process everythin’ darlin’.”

Joel's phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he knows it's your father. He takes a deep breath and answers the call, trying to sound casual. You've stopped pacing but still look dazed, as if you're trying to process what just happened between us.

"Hey, man," Joel greets, hearing your father's voice from his car, still on his way to the office.

"Joel, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I guess I'm the one who needs a nap, but I can't afford the time right now," he says, sounding sincere.

Your father has always been honest and upfront, and Joel feels a mix of pride and guilt as he listens to his apology. He knows that your dad will be upset once he finds out about the two of you, but until then, Joel thinks it's best to keep your secret a little longer.

"You don't have to apologize, buddy," Joel says, trying to reassure him. "When do you finish work today?" he asks, already thinking about the time they have left alone together.

More time to take things slow? Joel isn't sure. He wants to savor every moment with you, but he also can't wait to explore every inch of your body.

As your father continues to talk, Joel watches you, his mind filled with thoughts of the two of you together. He knows that things will get complicated soon, but for now, he's happy to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and energy.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Joel says, ending the call and turning to you. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step closer to you.

You nod, still looking dazed, and Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He knows that the two of you have a lot to talk about, but for now, he's content to hold you, to feel your heart beating against his chest.

The future may be uncertain, but Joel knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this way about anyone before, and he's not about to let you go.

As Joel holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you finally voice the question that's been lingering between you.

"I guess we can't do this sort of thing around my Dad, huh?" you ask, your voice soft against his skin.

Joel strokes your hair gently, his heart full of emotions he never thought he'd feel again. He marvels at how easily and perfectly this moment has unfolded, how right it feels to have you in his arms.

"We probably shouldn't, not yet," Joel replies, his voice tinged with longing. He feels you nod in agreement, and he knows that keeping this secret will be a challenge.

Joel had left town to escape the past, to build a new future for himself and his daughter Sarah. But now, as he returns to the place where it all began, he realizes that his future is intertwined with yours.

He sees a future with you, a life filled with love and possibility. He dreams of a family with you, of building something lasting and meaningful together.

As he holds you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Joel knows that this is just the beginning. 

As you and Joel waste no time getting settled in the new house, the air crackles with anticipation. Joel turns the key in the door, and as you step inside, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of desire.

Without a word, you set down his bag, and Joel takes your hand, pulling you close. He lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around in a dizzying whirl of passion and need.

The lock clicks shut, sealing you both in a world of raw desire and longing. The house feels like a sanctuary, a place where only you and Joel exist, at least for the next hour or so.

"Aren't you gonna show me around first? I had no idea the inside was so nice," you giggle, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the day's events.

"I thought you might like to show me around... your sweet fuckin’ body," Joel rasps in your ear before claiming your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Each touch, each kiss, ignites a fire within you, driving you to the edge of reason.

"You tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin'?" Joel murmurs between kisses, his strong arms wrapped around you. You nod eagerly, your body craving his touch, his presence.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you gravitate towards the nearest soft surface, a luxurious leather sofa in the living room. Joel stops in front of it, but you're consumed by the need for him, the hunger for his touch.

You try to nod, talk, and kiss him all at once, but the overwhelming desire he stirs in you leaves you breathless and unable to form coherent words. "Yeah... fuck... yes, I will," you pant, your body arching into his touch as he explores every inch of you.

Joel lowers you onto the couch, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that matches your own. He drops to his knees in front of you, parting your legs with a firm grip, his gaze locked on your body with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna eat your little pussy, make you come until you beg me to stop,” he says in a firm tone.

His hands move with purpose, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. You gasp and groan as he explores every inch of you, his fingers and tongue setting your body ablaze with pleasure.

As he delves deeper, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, you feel a wave of pleasure building within you, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You writhe and moan under his touch, your body responding to his every move with a hunger that matches his own. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, the air thick with desire and need.

His elbows prop your knees wide, and half-reclined on the worn leather, you can't help but feel a thrill at the sensations coursing through your body.

The scent of old leather and his cologne mingles with the musk of your arousal, creating a heady mix that only heightens your desire. You're ready for Joel, and you know it won't take long for him to bring you to the edge.

With a rough yank, he tears your panties aside, the sound of fabric rending adding to your arousal. You never knew you could feel this horny, and every moment with Joel only intensifies your desire.

He takes a moment to admire your slick folds, his thick fingers gently parting your lips. You grip his silver-flecked curls tighter as he moves down to taste you, your body trembling with anticipation.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with Joel's deep groans of pleasure. His tongue finds its mark, and you can't help but cry out, your body writhing under his touch.

Joel's mouth covers you completely, his tongue replacing his fingers as he explores every inch of your sex. You're on the brink of climax, your body trembling with need.

"Be patient, darlin'," Joel whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with desire. He grips your thighs, pushing them wider apart until his massive head is pressed between them.

You shift your grip to his broad shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Joel... Joel," you moan, trying to tell him how close you are, how much you want him. But all that comes out are animalistic sounds of pleasure.

Joel's body quakes with silent laughter, his voice deep and reassuring as he promises you can come all night. You trace the outline of his jaw, your body trembling with need as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

If heaven exists, you're sure you've found it in Joel's arms.

AN: I'm such a fool to think that this would be a one-shot... ya'll this is now a mini-series. Don't worry... this will be a two to three-chapter kinda series. 🤍

[capuccinodoll]

The Confession

Before the sun hits (chapter five)

Summary: Joel wants to know more about your dream, and he might make it come true.

You walked down the stairs humming the last tune that had spun through your mind in the shower—China Girl by Bowie. The song’s notes lingered on your lips, a little offbeat, but it didn’t matter. The warmth of the shower still clung to your skin, and you realized just how much you’d needed that heat until it washed over you, easing the tension you hadn’t known you were holding. Even though the rumbling thunder outside made you tense up a little, the cascade of water had been a comfort, like a temporary escape.

Bundled up in your favorite lounge clothes—pajama pants, a worn-in cotton T-shirt, and an oversized sweater that practically swallowed you—you made your way downstairs. The rain was still lashing against the roof, a steady downpour that filled the house with its rhythmic patter, creating an oddly soothing backdrop. When you reached the bottom floor, you wandered toward the living room window, curious about the storm. The sight outside surprised you; the sky was a swirling, tumultuous grey, like a Renaissance painting where the artist had chosen to convey the world's sadness through heavy, brooding clouds. 

"Still afraid?" Joel’s voice came from somewhere behind you, and you jumped slightly. He had a way of sneaking up on you like that.

“No,” you shot back, spinning to face him, but the lie must have been obvious. He was standing just a bit too close, his smirk playful as he stepped back, but only by a few inches, leaving barely enough space to breathe.

“You sure?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, Joel, sure,” you replied firmly, trying to hold onto your composure. But almost on cue, a loud crack of thunder split the air, and you flinched despite yourself, taking a small step back.

Joel's lips curled into a bemused smile, his eyes dancing with amusement that he was barely disguising with a frown. “Good Lord,” he said, shaking his head. “Come on, get away from the window.”

You didn’t argue, following him to the couch, feeling like a child caught out. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you settled next to him, your arm brushing against his. Joel didn’t seem to mind. He sprawled out on the couch, grabbing the remote with an easy familiarity, and you took a seat beside him, closer than you probably should have been. 

“What do you want to watch?” you asked, your voice bright with anticipation as you tilted your head, studying his profile.

He glanced at the TV screen, then turned toward you, and the sudden intensity of his gaze sent a jolt through you. It was like being seen, really seen, for a moment too long. He gestured toward the screen, where a reality show played, two women shouting and sobbing in a flurry of drama.

“Anything but this,” he muttered, a wrinkle of distaste crinkling his brow.

You reached over, and he let the remote pass into your hands, your fingers brushing briefly against his. You tried to ignore the way the touch made your pulse skip. As you navigated through streaming options, Joel watched you, his focus almost palpable. 

When you reached your recently watched shows, Joel let out an exaggerated sigh. “Season twenty of Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Yes, why?” you replied with a smirk, arching an eyebrow.

He didn’t dignify the question with a response, instead pointing to a different movie thumbnail. “That one. Christine.”

You navigated to the film without protest, pressing play. The opening scenes filled the room with the familiar, grainy colors of ‘80s cinema. You’d always loved movies from that era—the way they captured the world with their hazy, saturated palettes, the oversized jackets, the neon lights. It all felt like a time capsule, a window into a different kind of life.

On screen, Arnie strutted around in his red jacket, exuding a cocky confidence. 

“Look at that, what a beauty,” Joel mused, leaning a little closer to you. His voice had a warmth to it, a hint of something wistful. “I always wanted a Plymouth Fury, red and everything.”

“Everything? Possession included?” you quipped, looking up at him, catching his eye in the dim light. He shot you a side glance, his expression mildly irritated but also amused.

“Pay attention,” he replied, frowning. 

You bit back a grin, turning your focus back to the screen. But you couldn’t help the small huff of frustration that escaped when the car’s dark influence on Arnie became more apparent.

Joel caught the sound, leaning toward you, his voice dropping into a low whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“That damn car,” you muttered, the edge in your voice belying your irritation.

“It’s just a movie,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You know that, right?”

“Oh, no shit, Joel. A movie?" You shot him a mock-serious look, and his mouth twitched, barely holding back a smile.

“Okay, smartass.”

A laugh bubbled up from your throat, surprising you both. Without thinking, you let your head rest on his shoulder, curling your legs up beneath you, and you felt him relax slightly under the weight of it. He didn’t move away; he didn’t make any snide comment. He just let you stay like that, the warmth of his body a quiet reassurance.

“Let me know if you’re hungry,” he said after a while, his voice breaking the silence.

“Why, are you going to cook for me?” you teased, your cheek pressing a little more firmly against his shoulder.

“If you behave,” he shot back, the words carrying a playful edge that sent a shiver through you. You looked up at him, letting your gaze drift to his lips for just a second too long.

“So scary,” you muttered, shifting against him. “Is Joel Miller a good cook?”

“I’ve received no complaints,” he replied, his eyes dropping to meet yours. He was so close that the air seemed to thin between you, and something tightened in your chest.

“I have a discerning palate."

“I’ve seen you eat, sweetheart,” he said, a trace of a smirk playing on his lips. “I can handle you.”

The words hit differently, slipping through your defenses, and without thinking, you let a thought slip out as if it were nothing more than a whisper. “I know you can.” 

Joel’s expression shifted, a shadow of something passing over his features. He took in the shift in your tone, the undercurrent of something you hadn’t meant to reveal. “Can I ask you a question?” you asked, suddenly emboldened by the intimacy of the moment.

“You know you can."

“Why did you agree to come to Canmore?” 

He fell silent, staring at the screen without seeing it. His mouth tightened, as if he was weighing the words before giving them to you. For a moment, you thought maybe you’d overstepped. But then he spoke. “Have you met your dad?”

“Believe me, I did,” you answered with a dry laugh.

“He was... pretty persistent. I tried to say no, but Sarah disagreed. It was like they had a plan.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who does what he doesn’t want to,” you observed, trying to decipher him.

“Maybe. Most of the time. Not lately,” he said, his voice softer, almost introspective.

A knot formed in your chest. Did he regret being here? Was he just tolerating you? You lifted your head from his shoulder, turning to face him directly. He noticed, his brows knitting together as he took in the change in your expression. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, but your voice betrayed you. He shifted closer, studying your face, and the weight of his attention was impossible to ignore.

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, Joel,” you said quietly, the words firmer than you felt. “I mean, today. Or any day.”

“I know,” he replied just as firmly. His gaze held yours, unflinching, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. 

“Just so you know,” you pressed on. “You’re not obligated to spend time with me.”

“I know,” he said again, but there was something else there, something you couldn’t quite name. “Are you trying to convince me to leave?”

“No, I’m just... letting you know.”

He exhaled slowly, a faint, wry smile pulling at his lips. “I’m not having a bad time, you know. Even if I have to put up with your sass.”

Relief washed over you, a warmth settling in your chest. You couldn’t help the small smile that slipped out. “You’re not the only one putting up with things, Joel.”

He arched a brow, leaning in even closer, his voice dropping. “Enlighten me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his words carrying a challenge that made your pulse stutter. You could feel the heat between you, an invisible line you were both daring the other to cross.

“I could list a few things,” you started, your voice playful. “Like you spying on me while I sleep.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, his expression shifting into something that sent a thrill through you, like you’d just lit a fuse. He leaned in, his thumb brushing against the side of your hip, a touch so light it felt like a promise.

Joel's face hovered close, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate cocoon in the dim light. His arm settled beside your hip, fingers brushing just enough to send a jolt through your skin. It felt almost like a question—one he wouldn’t voice, but asked with the pressure of his thumb, the careful tilt of his head. You were hyper-aware of everything in that moment: the faint scent of soap clinging to his skin, the underlying musk that was uniquely his, and the way his presence filled the small space between you, almost like a gravitational pull.

“Tell me what you dreamed,” he murmured, the request slipping from his lips in a tone that felt like an order disguised as an invitation. His voice had that low, rough edge, the kind that made you want to answer without question, to let yourself be led by it. You felt the warmth begin in your chest and travel downward, a slow unraveling that left you bare.

Look at you, so reckless, you thought, almost laughing at yourself. But even as you hesitated, you couldn’t resist the idea of letting him in on the dream. Would he react like you imagined? Push back, pull away, or lean in further? A thrill went through you at the uncertainty of it all.

“Well, it was dark,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, but there was a slight tremble you couldn’t control. “I woke up to a noise. I was in my bed, alone, until I felt something move behind me, pressing close.”

He leaned in, just enough to make you feel the shift in his breathing. “How close?” His voice carried a note of urgency, like he needed the answer more than you did.

You swallowed, feeling a flicker of boldness ignite. “Not a millimeter away,” you confessed, watching the way his expression shifted, tightening with curiosity and something else, something deeper. “And then I felt it—a hand, sliding over my waist, fingers pressing in, but gentle, almost hesitant. For a moment, I thought it was just a phantom feeling, but then it moved lower, and I turned over to see—” You faltered, catching the gleam in his eyes. He was listening, but not just with his ears. He was taking in every word, every flicker of emotion on your face, holding you captive in his gaze.

You brushed your fingers over the back of his hand, feeling his warmth seep into you. It made your pulse stutter. “I think you know what I mean, Joel,” you continued, his name slipping from your mouth like a plea. “When I finally felt it—all of it—it was like it was tearing me apart from the inside, a sensation so strong it felt like it would swallow me whole.”

His eyes, dark and intense, never wavered from yours. He swallowed hard, like he was trying to keep himself steady, but you could see the hunger there, wild and unguarded. “Say it,” he urged, his voice rougher now, and it made your skin tingle.

You feigned confusion for a second, savoring the way his impatience crept into the curve of his mouth, the tightness of his jaw. “What?” you asked innocently, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

His lips twitched into a smile, the kind that barely reached his eyes. “Don’t play innocent with me. Say it. Out loud.”

The challenge in his words, the edge of command, did something to you. A rush of need flooded your veins, making your head spin, leaving you breathless with wanting. You could have kept up the pretense a little longer, but he was so close, so maddeningly close, that it was all you could do to keep from leaning in those last few inches to taste the urgency on his lips.

“It was you, Joel,” you confessed, feeling the weight of the admission hitting you, your heart drumming wildly against your ribs. “Touching me, gripping me like I was something you couldn’t bear to let go of. Taking me, like you needed it as much as I did. Of course you you had to heard me, those noises were just for you.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, just stared at you with a raw, naked hunger that made your skin feel too tight. His breath came in rough bursts, and his chest rose and fell like he was struggling to keep control. Then, you saw his gaze drop, his eyes tracing the line of your throat, lingering on the curve of your collarbone, and finally, drifting down further.

Before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out, grazing the front of his pants, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. His reaction was instant—a sharp intake of breath, a tightening of his hand on your hip, as if he might pull you closer or push you away, he hadn’t yet decided. But he didn’t push. He let you touch him, let you feel the evidence of how much he wanted this.

Then Joel’s fingers curled around your wrist, gently halting your touch, as if savoring the moment. His grip was firm, his hand rough against your skin, and when he spoke, there was a crack in his voice that made you pause, just for a second. 

“If this happens, there's no turning back, baby,” he said, his voice low, gravelly, but with an edge of vulnerability that you hadn’t heard before. His eyes searched yours, and for a brief moment, a shadow of uncertainty crossed his face.

You swallowed, taking in the weight of what he’d just said, the gravity in his words. But really, that was all you needed. No second thoughts, no hesitations. You leaned in, closing the space between you both, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was urgent, like you’d been holding your breath for hours, and finally, you could exhale. Joel’s taste filled you—something intoxicating and warm—and you let out a low sound, a moan that vibrated through your joined lips.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he studied you with half-lidded eyes. He sank back against the couch, drawing you with him. His hands moved quickly, guiding your legs around his waist until you were straddling his lap, your thighs cradling his hips. You could feel the strength in his arms as he adjusted you, holding you close, anchoring you to him. The contact of his hard chest against your own, the way his body seemed to fit perfectly beneath yours—it set a spark in your blood, a need so intense that you barely recognized your own voice as you gasped against his lips.

“Damn, baby,” Joel breathed, his lips ghosting over yours as he spoke. He dipped his head to kiss along your jaw, his hands cupping your backside, fingers digging into the curve of you. A low, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest when he felt you grind against him, his body responding with a slow, helpless roll of his hips. He broke the kiss, just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he felt your eagerness. You couldn’t help but match it with a smile of your own, though yours was tinged with impatience.

You pressed your mouth to his again, this time with a frantic edge, your hands finding their way into his hair. The heat between you was searing, uncontainable. Your hips moved instinctively, seeking the pressure, the friction. When you felt the length of him pressing through his pants against your core, a desperate sound slipped from you, something raw and needy.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed, the words leaving you in a rush as your head tipped back, your lips parted. He felt so good beneath you, so solid, big, and it made your mind spin.

Joel’s gaze was fixed on you, dark and hungry, watching the way your mouth fell open, how you clung to him as if you might lose your balance. His breath hitched, and his jaw clenched as he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then, in a sudden move, he gripped your waist and lifted you off him, setting you down next to him. A whine of frustration bubbled up in your throat, but he was already on his feet, pulling you along with him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up, your legs dangling for just a moment before finding their place around his hips again. You couldn’t keep your lips off him, your mouth chasing his as he maneuvered you toward the stairs, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

Before you knew it, he turned you in his arms, your back pressing into the wooden railing. Your breath came out in a shudder as he kissed you there, fingers digging into the curve of your spine. But then he pivoted again, leading you backwards until you found yourself at the door to his room. He fumbled for the handle, and when it finally gave way, he pushed the door open and guided you inside.

You took a breath, glancing around, taking in the intimate details of his space. It mirrored yours, but different—more organized, less cluttered, though the bed was rumpled, as if he’d just been lying in it, restless. 

The thought disappeared when you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you into the heat of his chest. His mouth brushed over the curve of your shoulder, trailing kisses up to the sensitive spot beneath your ear. You tilted your head, giving him more space, your breath catching when his lips grazed your skin. His hands spanned your waist, holding you steady, and you shivered against him, your whole body aching with need.

Turning, you faced him, your hands going straight to the hem of his shirt. You were impatient, trembling, and he must have seen the urgency in your eyes because he didn’t waste time—he pulled off your sweater and t-shirt in one swift movement, leaving your skin bare to the cool air. 

For a heartbeat, he just looked at you, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath stutter.

"So pretty, baby."

His fingers traced along your sides, pressing you closer, his mouth finding your neck again. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious ache building low in your stomach. 

You tugged at his shirt again, desperate for the feel of his skin against yours. He shrugged it off, letting it fall somewhere on the floor, forgotten. His body was warm and solid beneath your touch, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped when he pressed himself to you, the heat of him seeping into your bones.

The edge of the bed met the back of your thighs, and Joel took advantage of your stumble, guiding you down onto the mattress. He hovered over you, his breath mingling with yours, and you could see the conflict in his eyes—this delicate push and pull of control he was struggling to keep. But then, with a small, desperate sound, he surrendered, his mouth crashing into yours.

His kiss was hungry, consuming, like he’d been starving for you, and it left you dizzy. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up against him, and you arched into his touch, a helpless little sound escaping your lips as he took control. 

His lips moved lower, kissing down your neck, over the curve of your breast, until finally, his mouth closed around one of your nipples. The sensation sent a bolt of electricity through you, and you cried out, your hands twisting into his hair, pulling him closer, as if that would ease the ache growing inside you.

“Please, Joel,” you begged, voice barely above a whisper, but it felt like the only thing you could manage. 

He paused, lifting his gaze to yours, his lips swollen and wet, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulled back. 

“What, baby?” he teased, the words catching in his breath, his eyes dark with want. “You have to tell me what you need.”

Your cheeks flushed under his scrutiny, but you managed to meet his gaze, biting down on your lip. “Fuck me,” you whispered, the words a raw plea, your hands trailing over his shoulders, urging him closer.

He kissed you again, slower this time, but with a lingering desperation that made your head spin, his body pressing yours into the mattress. 

As Joel pulled away, a cold emptiness settled over your body, making you lean up on your elbows, your head following his movement as he stood before you. His hands moved with urgency, tugging down his gray pants. And just like that, the fabric pooled at his feet, revealing skin. You blinked, your breath hitching. Of course, Joel wasn't wearing underwear.

A sigh tumbled from your lips, heavy with desire as your eyes drank in the sight of him. He stood exposed, unabashed, and hard. His hand wrapped around his hard, thick dick almost instinctively, and you caught the smallest flinch in his expression. It was intoxicating.

“I knew it,” you breathed, tossing your head back, a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth. Joel's eyebrow arched, and he took a step closer, a playful smile spreading across his face as if you’d just confirmed something you’d been dying to know.

You moved quickly, rising onto your knees on the mattress, aligning your face with his. Your arms found their place around his neck, tugging him down, your lips pressing against his with a desperate heat. The friction between you both was electric, his body pressed to yours, and you could feel him—solid and pulsing, rubbing against your stomach, warm and slick where he brushed.

Joel’s hands settled firmly on your hips, rough palms sliding lower until they cupped your ass, kneading the flesh with a force that pulled a moan from deep inside you. It vibrated between you, swallowed by his mouth, the sound mingling with the low groan rumbling in his chest. Your hands roamed downward, feeling every plane and muscle of his chest, before slipping further until your fingers wrapped around the base of his hardness.

“You’re so hard, Joel,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes stayed locked on his as you spoke. “You need this so badly, don’t you?”

He drew a sharp breath at your touch, his hands tightening on your hips, bruising almost. A flash of something wild crossed his expression, and he shook his head, lips quirking as he exhaled a chuckle that held no humor. “Witch,” he accused softly, the word a caress against your lips.

With a sly smile, you brushed a kiss over his mouth, barely a whisper of touch, before you let your hand work up and down his length, slow and deliberate. His eyelids fluttered at the sensation, lips parting as he tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat to your view.

God, the way he looked in that moment—lost and completely yours—made something tighten in your chest. A shuddered breath escaped his lips, breaking into a groan that seemed to take all the air from the room.

He felt it, the pull between you both. That magnetic force that had been there since the first time you saw him sitting on your parents couch, unreadable and infuriating. Now, here he was, completely undone by you, eyes dark with need, his hands leaving marks on your skin as if trying to hold onto you, to keep you tethered. But you wanted more than that—you wanted to give him more, to show him how good you could make him feel.

You shifted back on the bed, your legs folding beneath you, bringing your mouth level with him. With a teasing pause, you took him in hand again, guiding him towards your lips without quite touching. Joel’s breath stuttered, and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up so he could see your eyes.

“Show me how much I fucking need this, now,” he blurted out, his thick voice piercing your bones, as he pulled you closer to the tip of his dick. 

You gave in, tongue slipping out to taste him, the salt and heat of him filling your senses. He groaned, his hips jerking forward, but you held firm, only letting him in bit by bit. When you finally took him into your mouth, the stretch was just enough to feel like a challenge, a thrill. He let out a low, shaky exhale, but you didn’t stop. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, moving with a rhythm that made his fingers tighten in your hair.

You were drooling, saliva dripping down your chin as you picked up speed, Joel ramming into your throat almost causing you to gag. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” he whispered.

You didn't care, you wanted to eat him whole. And the sound that echoed through the four walls was obscene, wet, worthy of taking you to hell. And you loved it, loved it too much.

Joel was soaked in your saliva, it dripped from his cock every time your mouth approached his tip. So you grabbed him with one hand, jerking him off as you moved your lips to his balls, giving them a little kiss before taking them into your mouth and licking them with need.

But just as you leaned in to take him deeper again, Joel's hand found your hair, pulling you back with a gasp. He stared down at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and awe, chest heaving.

“You’re going to kill me,” he managed, his lips twisting into a rough smile, as if the idea didn’t bother him much.

You only answered with a mischievous look, taking him back into your mouth, this time letting him see everything, your eyes fixed on his as your lips wrapped around him. His hands tightened in your hair, his face twisted with the need to control himself.

“Fuck” he muttered, voice breaking. But then he yanked you back again, breathing heavily. “On your back.”

You obeyed, shifting onto the bed, your body singing with anticipation as he settled between your legs. Joel’s hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide, and he lowered himself until he was almost flush against you. You trembled beneath his gaze, feeling exposed in every sense, but there was something intoxicating in being seen by him like this, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

His fingers traced a slow, teasing line down your stomach, dipping between your legs. When he found your clit, a slow circle of his thumb sent a shock through you, making you arch into him. The look he gave you was dark and satisfied, as if he’d uncovered some secret you’d been hiding.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate,” he murmured, watching your expression change, drinking in the way you gasped and arched for him. “Is that what you’ve been dreaming about? Me, fucking you?”

“Yes, Joel,” you answered, the words slipping out before you could think. “Please, fuck me.”

He just smiled, shaking his head. “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and unhurried, even as his thumb sped up its torture, drawing moans from you that you couldn’t keep back. His eyes bore into yours, unyielding. “You need to beg better than that.”

He had known exactly how much power he held, savoring it until the very last moment, until his own desire got the better of him. Without a word, he lowered his mouth onto you, sealing it around your most sensitive spot, his tongue moving in waves, patient but relentless.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, your voice breaking into a cry, your fingers twisting into his hair, trying to anchor yourself against the onslaught.

Joel sucked at you with a gentleness that felt like a contradiction, each flick of his tongue pulling you closer to some edge you couldn’t quite see. The rhythm he set was almost maddeningly precise, a tempo that left you no choice but to arch your hips into him, chasing the pleasure that seemed to spill from his mouth in every movement. Your breath stuttered as he released you for a moment, his tongue sweeping lower, dragging over you slowly before dipping inside, finding that place where you needed him most.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, and the way his voice cut through the haze made you shudder. He sounded almost amused, but there was a hunger there too. “Bet feeling me in your throat got you like this, didn’t it? All swollen and ready.”

“Joel, please,” was all you managed to say, the desperation curling up in your voice like a plea. It felt raw, something you didn’t want to give him but couldn’t keep back.

He didn’t make you wait—his mouth was on you again, as if he’d been starved for you. He kissed and sucked at you like it was the only way to survive, his mouth devouring, each motion of his tongue sending pulses of sensation through every inch of your body. You could feel the texture of the sheets beneath you, the cool air on your skin where his lips weren’t, but all of it blurred together under the hot, unrelenting focus of his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair, trying to find some control, but it was impossible. It was too much, and you let yourself go, surrendering to the flood of sensation.

You tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a high-pitched cry, and he felt it in the way your body arched beneath him, trembling with the intensity that rolled through you. His rhythm never wavered, the friction of his mouth pushing you deeper into that overwhelming feeling. When it became too much, you pulled your hips back with what little strength you had left, and the sound of him coming off you was slick, leaving your skin sensitive and flushed.

Your clit throbbed, swollen and pink, still tingling with the aftershocks of his attention. And just as you tried to catch your breath, he shifted you onto your side with his steady hands, his chest pressing against your back. The warmth of him behind you was dizzying, the closeness both comforting and unbearable. It wasn’t enough—you wanted him closer, to sink into him completely, to forget where you ended and he began.

Your mind spun as he kissed the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your ear.

“I was behind you, wasn’t I?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost like a secret between the two of you.

A smile tugged at your lips, the meaning sinking in, the memory of your dream making your pulse race again. Before you could respond, his hand found your waist, his fingers kneading into your skin. He remembered without you needing to say a word.

You guided his hand down, trailing over the curve of your stomach until he reached the sensitive spot between your legs, still pulsing from his earlier attention. You shifted back against him, feeling his hardness against your ass, a reminder of how much more he wanted.

“Kiss my neck,” you whispered, and he didn’t hesitate. His mouth found the spot that made your breath catch, and your skin prickled under the heat of his lips. You shivered as you guided his hand lower, until his fingers pressed against you, finding that aching place with an agonizing slowness. The sensation made you moan, a sound you couldn’t hold back.

He took over then, his fingers slipping inside you, and you moved with him, setting the rhythm until he matched it. His lips grazed your earlobe, his teeth scraping lightly as he added another finger, stretching you, pushing deeper. The motion was intimate, almost unbearably so, his breath fanning against your skin, his voice a rough murmur against your ear.

“And then,” you started, your voice unsteady, barely holding on to the thread of your thoughts. “Then—fuck me Joel, please.”

His fingers slipped out of you, and his hand landed on your bottom with a firm smack, the sound cracking through the air and making you yelp softly.

“Be a good girl and spread those legs for me,” he ordered, voice thick, his fingers pressing into your thigh as he guided your leg back, opening you up to him.

The anticipation twisted inside you, tightening like a spring, and you pushed back against him, turning your head to meet his eyes. They were so close, so dark with desire, and when he finally pushed inside you, the stretch of him was enough to leave you breathless.

You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as your body adjusted to the feel of him, to the way he filled you completely. He didn’t move, letting you take in the heat and pressure of his body, the fullness that made your head spin. And then his hand found your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse before he squeezed, just enough to make your breath hitch.

He turned your head with a gentle but insistent grip, catching your mouth in a bruising kiss. “So tight, so wet, just for me,” he rasped, his voice trembling against your lips.

“Just for you, Joel,” you managed to reply, your voice cracking into a sob.

And then he started to move, his hips finding a steady, unyielding rhythm. Each thrust seemed to reach deeper, leaving you wrecked, clinging to the sound of his breath in your ear and the way his body collided with yours. You could have listened to those ragged, desperate sounds he made forever, each one making you feel like you had him in your hands even as you surrendered everything.

“You're close,” he said in your ear, his words barely a broken whisper. He could feel it inside of your throbbing cunt. “Come for me, baby, I want to feel you break over me, is that what you need?”

“Y—yes, Joel, fuck.”

“Be a good girl and come for me.”

His firm voice in your ear was enough for the explosion to invade your body, making you open your mouth in a silent scream and tighten around him, squeezing him devastatingly tight. 

“Oh God,” Joel moaned in agony, his hard movements becoming unsynchronized. His mouth caught your sweaty neck in desperation, digging his teeth into you hungrily as his hand, still on your neck, held you immobile beneath his lips. 

A primal sound came from him, making you moan again. His body tensed and his quivering lips released your flesh.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, baby,” he cried, cumming inside you. 

Deep inside you, his warm seed spurted out as he lay still, unmoving as his discharge filled you. 

His hand released you, leaving a soft pink mark on your skin, and you pulled back seeking his lips, which captured yours in less than a second. 

His hand gave you a gentle spank, and a smile from you broke the kiss.

As you looked into his eyes, still dark, his words echoed in your mind.

No, there was no turning back now. 

[romanarose]

I Miss You, Mr. Miller

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Joel makes you WET wet.

AKA

There's a pun here about eggs somewhere.

Warnings: Masturbating, sex toys, body worship, "little bunny", joel making sure reader knows he's old man, degrading, almost getting caught.

Immersivity: Reader is fem, dresses very feminine. Drinks and celebrates Christian holidays, not is christian but like family and culturally. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap but reader is 21+. Mentions of church.

A/N: Part of the DBF!Joel Holiday fuck series but you don't gotta read the previous part. I missed Easter OOPS so now we get a flashback.

1.3k words

You liked to start off slow, take your time with yourself. Hands, gliding over your shirt, feeling your body all the way down to your thighs. You learned this from Joel.

Sure a quickie was fun, especially under the threat of being caught, but Joel preferred to take his time with you. Likewise, you started to mimic this when masturbating. Joel you could, theoretically, take the vibe to your clit, put on some Gone Wild Audio and git’er done, but why? Why not show your body the appreciation it deserved. You were beautiful. You were sexy. Joel wasn’t the only one who could enjoy it.

Joel knelt before your spread legs, hands running up and down your pretty little Easter dress. Your dad had invited Joel over for Easter dinner, and you’d stayed in your dress all day to make sure he saw you in it. Joel was certain to show his appreciation.

“Such a pretty dress… such a pretty little bunny…” His fingers tweaked your nipples as he eyed you. “M one lucky old man.”

You giggle. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel hummed. He loved when you called him that. Today, he’d had to hide the bonner he was sporting after you greeted him as Mr. Miller in your cute dress, hair all done up… he couldn’t stop thinking how he’d railed you in the church bathroom after Good Friday services… dirty, dirty girl.

Your hand skimmed over your clit at the memory… you might not need any porn this time, you were so turned on, so sensitive… you whimper at the first touch. Cupping your breasts, you try to get the feeling Joel gave when he touched them, but it wasn’t the same. Joel’s hands were large, rough, sure… Still, it felt good touching such sensitive parts of your body, and you sigh. You remember how much Joel praised you on Easter, touch yourself to the echo of his voice.

“Darling, beautiful girl… just look at you, cock dumb girl begging to be fucked with her dad downstairs… surrounded by teddies and pink frilly pillows… act’n like such a good girl, but you ain’t, are yuh?”

“Joooooel” You whine under his touch. “No, I’m a good girl…”

“Nuh-uh” Joel rips open your white tights to find you bare. “Good girls wear underwear to church.” he runs two fingers up your slicked up cunt. “Good girls don’t get wet for grumpy old men.”

You plunge two fingers into your core quickly dissatisfied so you add another. That makes you moan. You begin to pump them in and out of yourself, nowhere near as thick and god, not hitting close to how deep Joel hits you, when he fucks you raw. It’s wholly unsatisfying, but you were just getting started.

Joel finger fucked you, his two middle fingers pumping you at a rapid pace. “Naughty, naughty girl, little cunt clenching on my fingers… I can feel how tight you're getting, but you can’t cum yet… you wanna behave, don’t you? Or are you just as bad as I thought you were… Jesus Christ darl’n, can’t wait to get my cock up my bunny girl's guts again, shit, ‘m gonna miss you.”

Sarah was graduating college next year, and Joel was taking her on a road trip for a few weeks to tour colleges. Tommy had joked, saying he could ‘take care of yuh’ while he’s gone but Joel smacked him upside the head.

“Joel” you whimper. “I think… fuck… I think I’m gonna pee” 

Instead of getting off you, Joel grinned. “Keep hold’n, baby… Ima take care of you.”

You stuff your cunt full of four fingers, just trying to get a taste of what Joel left you with, a bit of that memory. Chanting his name, ‘Joel, Joel, Joel’ You chase that high that’s starting to build in your stomach. You remember how he fingered you, how he kissed your neck, arms, stomach, legs, every single inch of your body he loved so much.

“Joel!” You try to warn him again, but he’s not listening. Instead, he brings his face close to your dripping hole. 

“Let it go, sweet bunny, let go.”

Fuck. He edged you for 20 minutes, even as your mom walked past your door gossiping on the phone about Mrs. McKenzie’s nose ring. You’d warned him, now he’d deal with the consequences. Can’t be as bad as when you’d thrown up on him after St. Patrick's Day.

But when you let go, you cum. It’s hard, liquid shooting out of your body but it didn’t feel like pee. Your legs shake, body seizing up in shock from the sheer force of your orgasm. Joel laps it up, hungrily devouring your, drinking you up like you were communion wine. 

Vibrator on your clit, you remember how Joel ate you out as you came, grinding his hips against the bed, small little moans escaping his pretty little mouth, he bucked and licked and humped and sucked, growling when you stopped and eating you out until you came again, desperately biting your lip to not scream his name. Here in your apartment, in your own bed that Joel carried up here on Presidents Day, you could scream if you wanted to. And you did. Your orgasm hitting you, you keep the vibrator to the exact pressure it was at and ride out your orgasm wishing it was on Joel’s face.

Joel kissed you, his soaking wet face and beard all over yours as you lay there in shock, completely spent from the orgasm. 

“What…” You pant. “Was that…” 

Joel couldn’t keep his mouth off your skin very long, only barely managing to mumble that you squirted. “Such a good girl, oh my god, I was wrong, you’re just, fuuuuck, such a good fuck’n girl…”

You smile against him. “You gonna fuck me or what, Mr. Miller?”

Joel ground his crotch against yours. Wet. “Your little stunt make me cum in my pants like I’m a fuck’n teenager again, yuh lil brat.” He flicked a tit playfully.

Once every last bit of pleasure was exhausted, when you had cum your hear out to the thought of Joel fucking Miller between your legs, loudly and proudly. You sit up and smile at the phone at you pillow, still recording. You make sure to save the voice note in messenger, then cue it up to send it to Joel.

Sweet Thing: Use headphones, don’t open around Sarah ;)

*Send* You fall back on your bed, smiling.

“Joel?” Your dad called along with your name, making you startle. “I know you’re in there!”

You look to Joel in a panic, eyes wide and scared. Not scared of your dad, perse, he was good natured. Scared of disappointing him.

Your dad again. “Your boots are still at the door and it’s too muddy to go outside without em, open the damn door.”

Joel turned to you, whispering. “I’ll take the fall, it was my idea.”

You and Joel both stand, looking more proper. Joel’s black pants covered the fact he came in them, and your dress covered your ripped tights“Joel, no-” But he cut you off with a stern look.

“Ima take care of you, darl’n, understand?”

You nod. Joel unlocks the door and your dad steps in, arms crossed. “I know what you two are doing.”

Joel steps forward. “Listen man, it ain’t her fault.”

Your dad held out a hand. “Hey, I don’t care if you guys smoke weed together.”

You blink. He thought you were sneaking off together for a blunt? “Oh… you don’t?” You don’t smoke weed. Joel does, but you never found much interest. 

“Nah,” He waved his hand. “Just do it behind the garage, okay? It ain’t legal here yet. The neighbors can see your window from here.”

Joel cleared his throat. “Right, right, thanks man.”

“Thanks dad, sorry.”

Your dad chuckled. “I’m the cool dad, remember!”

 Your dad was absolutely not cool, but he was fun. A good dad. And you and Joel dodged a bullet, but you needed to be more careful. You run off to pretend to smoke a blunt.

SORRY IM LATE YALL LMFAOOOOO

Lum to me: Are you not doing the holiday Joel series anymore ;-;?

Me: Did I miss a holiday?

YEAH JUST EASTER I GUESS

I relayed this story to Clem and said "not my fault, I don't celebrate easter anyway, Jesus means nothing to Jews"

Clem "DIDN"T YOU CELEBRATE EASTER FOR A CHUNK OF YOUR LIFE?"

She's right! but she didn't have to say it :((((((( lmfaooooo

Anyway I did a new chapter of this AND and new Room's on fire so, y'all'er welcome XD

Check out my upcoming pride event!

hugs!

Im phasing out my taglist, so make sure to follow @romana-updates

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

[salingers]

hayride.

dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: visiting (the) home depot with your dad's best friend, joel miller. [and, him eating and fucking you, in the hay field located behind the store]. warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap. agoraphilia. au. begging. brat!reader. cream pie. daddy!joel. daddy!kink. dirty talk. dom!joel. (anal) fingering. jealous!joel. language. no outbreak. oral sex. no use of 'y/n'. praising. smut. unprotected piv. use of 'good girl'. use of 'slut'. word count: [about] 2,600. a/n: hi, more october-set smut, before the month's over. thank you for welcoming me into the fandom, by supporting my debut, october's end. [part two's next month]. cover by me, divider by @saradika. @saradika-graphics.

A decade’s fleeted, since the last time that Joel Miller’s arcing, bedroom window’s framed your body; You’re nearly an apparition.

Your mere silhouette’s evoking long-neglected memories for Joel; Your private school’s fussy graduation. Whistling, from the bleacher’s humid, metallic plank. Joel’s abruptly blinking away his proud reverie.

Your haphazard, gauzy curtains aren’t proffering any privacy. Your dresser’s girlish; A dust-ladened and weathered wicker. You’re scrounging the half-dozen drawers, sorting teenaged remnants, Joel’s guessing.

It’s arguably morally awry, that he’s guessing at all. You’ve unearthed an ivory-colored pair of panties. You’re sampling the garment’s width, against your clothed waist; Your index finger’s hooking the pliant underwear and slowly stretching. Joel curses, “Fuck’s sake.”

Joel’s denim-clad groin’s growing taut; You’re unbuttoning your pants. His conscience’s hollering, QuitWatchingQuitWatching. Then, Joel’s belatedly swiping his curtain’s panel shut. The plaid, trembling fabric’s punishing him. You’re right there.

Your peripheral’s revealing that brown, tartan material’s now obscuring Joel Miller’s looming, perusing shadow.

Your phone’s deeply droning, near plummeting from your nightstand’s uneven, wickered top. You answer, “Hi.”

Dad’s beginning, “Hi, you.” Before, “Room ‘lright?” 

You aimlessly nod, “Yeah. Need ‘t paint it, though.”

The flat, stark white’s reminiscent of an operating room. A scalpel amid your dominant, gloved hand; Your abandoned internship. You’re certainly color-drenching this bland, interim room.

Dad’s conveniently chirping, “Y’know, Joel’s headin’ over ‘t The Home Depot. ‘Jus asked if I needed anythin’ for work.”

You humorously say, “The Home Depot?”

Dad amusedly huffs, “The one ‘n only.” Then, “I’ll dial ‘im back. Tell ‘im ‘t bring ‘ya.”

You’re nervously inquiring, “He won’t mind?”

Dad’s chuckling, “Kid, seriously? ‘S just Joel.”

He hasn’t been just Joel, since his absurdly sexy appearance in Dad’s FaceBook album, dorkily titled, ‘Fishin’ Missions’. Dad’s askew lens, recording Joel’s roughened, veiny hand, sizably surpassing his fish’s ample breadth; His arm’s rind, rugged and sun-freckled.

 That heathered-gray muscle-tee; Hued identically to Joel’s own silvery threads. Accentuating. Your horny musing’s interrupted, when the doorbell’s nostalgic ding’s reverberated. A leadened, salacious feeling’s pin-balling your rib’s conical-shaped cage.

You’re descending the stairway’s carpeted tread. A once-over’s rushedly ensuing, amid the entry way’s gritty mirror. You’re timidly turning the front door’s bulbous knob; Your skin’s avidly warming.

Joel’s gruffing, “Waitin’ on an invitation?”

You’re feignedly snark, “Go ‘head, Miller.” 

Joel’s arousingly large. His belt’s leathered and suppled; Tapering his tender waist. You’re deliriously visualizing biting it. Your teeth’s individualized grooving, engraving Joel’s every-day accessory.

He’s beckoning, “C’mere. Settlin’ in okay?”

Your pulse’s embarrassingly hurried, as Joel’s hugging you. Your nose’s upturned, against his collar’s corduroy lapel; His inherent aroma’s autumnal. A heady medley of burnt cinnamon, earthy hay.

You breathlessly retort, “Y–Yes. ‘Jus fine.”

His beard’s deliciously graying and scruffy; Bristling you. Joel’s inching away; A hand’s kneading your elbow’s point, “Grown. Ain’t ‘ya?”

You’re muttering, “Think anythin’ in my ‘ol dresser’ll fit?”

Joel rasps, “Be fittin’ somethin’ ‘a mine. Talkin’ like that.”

You teasingly tut, “Oh? Promise?”

His jaw’s tightening, “G–Get in my fuckin’ truck, ‘lready.”

The retail store’s unmistakingly orange and tan exterior’s materializing onward. Joel’s hushedly threatening, “Got ‘t behave.”

You’re amusedly assuring him, “Me? ‘Course.”

He’s backwardly parking. His arm’s generously imposing against your seat’s cushiony spine, “Lot ‘a clients ‘a mine, in ‘ere.”

His chin’s abutting along his broad, reaching shoulder’s top. Joel’s delectable, lofting nose’s leading his prominent side-profile; His pursed, upper lip’s capped under an impressive, stiff mustache. Your cunt’s pulsating. You need to rabidly rut against Joel Miller’s aging, sun-tinged face.

You’re resignedly sighing, “Fine.”

Joel replies, “Bratty fuckin’ girl.”

His accent’s aggressively Texan; Languid. Syrupy. You’re involuntarily leaking, beyond your underwear’s cottony corral. The archaic radio’s uttering early-seventies Linda Ronstadt, until Joel’s halting the ignition.

You murmur, “Any cute clients?”

Joel’s apparently unimpressed; He’s agitatedly rolling his coffee-shaded eyes. Tutting, “Best be ‘lone, when I find ‘ya.”

You’re unpromisingly shrugging, before evacuating his Ford’s heated interior. Whispering, “See ‘bout that, Miller.”

Your skin’s momentarily rasped, from the atypically frigid, October wind. The store-front’s decorated seasonally. There’s pallets, upon pallets, of pumpkins; A uniformed variety of classic orange and creamy white.

You’re distractedly mulling around carving or painting pumpkins, while Joel’s unexpectedly wrapping his freshly-shedded, heavy chore-coat against you; His hand’s comfortingly scrubbing your shoulder’s taut blade.

Joel’s deeply humming, “Better, darlin’? Hm?”

You’re instantaneously arming the clothing item’s perfectly tenderized sleeves, “M–Much, Joel.”

You’re leaning, subsequently touching his torso’s muscular crest. Joel’s thumbing your collar’s curving bone, “Warm, here?”

You whine, “Yes.”

Joel’s beginning to crane downard, until he’s chinning your shoulder’s trembling shelf. You’re gasping, as he’s fingering your loaner, Carhartt jacket’s bottom button, from behind. His arm’s caging you.

His calloused pinky’s reaching, before flitting your pant’s folded fly, “And, here?” He’s wagering, “Warmer?”

You’re groaning, “Ngh. Y–Yeah.”

Joel carnally scolds, “Filthy fuckin’ girl. A–Askin’ me ‘bout other men? While your pussy’s pre-heatin’ ‘f me?”

His finger nail’s raking your zipper’s aluminum teeth. Joel’s tauntingly whispering, “Ain’t brattin’ much, now.”

You’re begging, “L–Let’s leave.”

He’s instantly moving. You’re incoherently stunned, as Joel’s adopting an orange-colored cart, “Find ‘ya in the paintin’ section?”

You’re spluttering, “J–Joel. ‘S not what I meant.”

Joel’s winking, “Darlin’, I know what ‘ya meant.”

He’s ambling ahead, bypassing the automatic door’s yawning jaw. Your dominant hand’s flexing, electrocuted in palpable pleasure; It’s reminiscent of Mr. Darcy. You’re involuntarily summoning an image of Joel, dressed as the aforementioned aristocrat, participating in Halloween.

Joel’s robust shoulders, heaving against an incompletely unbuttoned, wispy shirt. His chest’s foggy-toned, furling hair. His head’s rain-rustled, curly strands. A high-waisted trouser; Ascending his belly’s delectable slope, whilst canopying his cock’s dilating weight. You know it’s big.

You’re unfocused; Footing the hardware store’s threshold. There’s an assortment of motion-triggered, Halloween decorations erected nearby. You’re curiously setting one, an animatronic ‘Boogeyman’. The creepy distraction’s festively futile. Joel Miller’s still permeating your skull.

The paint attendant’s named ‘Ruger’. A gun manufacturer namesake’s befitting, given Ruger’s camouflaged, distressed t-shirt. He’s an Austin, Texas quintessential, twenty-something male; A ‘modernized’ mullet-and-mustache duet? Check. A smothering of ‘patchworked’ tattoos? Check.

He’s flirtatiously greeting, “Sugar. How can I do ‘ya?”

You’re brandishing an array of complimentary paint-swatches, against his counter’s crest, “Do color-matchin’?”

Ruger’s endorsing, “Best ‘round.”

You’re inwardly wincing, but Joel’s abruptly approaching. So, “Ain’t doubt it. Clothes shouldn’t be an issue?”

Your palm’s routing your breast’s pocket; Ruger’s murmuring, “T–That jacket? ‘Moss’ by Carhartt. Got codin’.”

You’re falsely enthusiastic, “Really? You’re the best.”

Ruger tosses an isolated thumb, signaling to his computerized, machine mixer, “Told ‘ya.” Asking, “Color’s goin’ in your bedroom?”

You’re agreeably nodding, “Yep.”

Ruger’s grinning, “Lucky paint.”

You begin, “You? Feelin’ lucky?”

Joel’s reprimanding, “Lucky that I ain’t kill ‘im.” Before, “Passin’ at my girl. Gettin’ paid ‘t do that?”

Ruger’s answering, “N–No, Sir.”

Joel’s deeply repeating, “No.” Then, “Two gallons ‘a Sherwin-Williams. Emerald. Matte finishin’, both of ‘em.”

You’re second-handedly embarrassed and incapable of meeting Ruger’s apologetic, parting peer. Joel’s efficiently emptying his cart’s plastic-composed basin, before rehoming his kindred supplies, upon the check-stand’s laminate surface. You muse, “Emerald’s two-hundred dollars ‘a paint?”

Joel’s genuinely offended, “Ain’t payin’. I’m gettin’ it.”

You’re avidly insisting, “Don’t have ‘t do that, Miller.”

Then, Joel’s rapidly reaching outward; Yanking your belt’s fraying loop. You’re firmly tugged against him. He drawls, “Want ‘t do it.”

His breath’s cinnamony and smoky; An inebriating merging of gum and cigarettes. You dizzyingly respond, “Y–Yeah?”

Joel’s languidly leaning, before brushing his nose’s point against your ear’s lobe, “Yeah.” Whispering, “Paintin’ your bedroom the color ‘a my jacket? What’s that ‘bout, darlin’ girl?”

You’re shyly stammering, “D–‘Dunno.” Accusing, “Sayin’ aloud, ‘my girl’? What’s that ‘bout, Joel?”

Joel’s grinning, “That? Want ‘t find out?”

You’re panting, “Oh?”

His palm’s barreling behind; Stuffing his pant’s pocket. You’re savoring the rattling sound of his key-ring’s recovery. Then, Joel’s rapidly shoving the mixed-metal wad inside your rear-pocket. His bulky hand’s harshly kneading your bottom’s fleshy heft; Your cunt’s thumping.

He demands, “Go ‘head. Right behind ‘ya.”

You’re ocularly rummaging around Joel’s unkempt vehicle. American Spirits. Matches. A thrifted, Patsy Cline cassette. Big Red. Coins. A dog-eared, John Steinbeck novel. The sexual suspense’s dampening your sternum; Sticky. Sweaty. You’re beginning to desperately undress.

The Carhartt coat’s discarded. Your flimsy henley’s unbuttoned. Joel’s egressing from Home Depot’s aromatic interior, before pausing at the Garden Center’s check-stand. No way. A hundred-dollar note’s being thrusted, from Joel’s girthy hand, unto the cashier’s gloved palm.

This broad, burly man’s buying you fucking pumpkins. He’s pensively plucking them. His brow’s furrowing; His forehead’s wrinkling. Joel’s literally examining them, heeding any blemished gourds. You’re bewilderedly blinking, as Joel’s palming them, like they’re… Basketballs.

Your waist’s winding, impatiently rutting against his truck’s benched seat; Your pant’s denimed seam, slotting your cunt’s drooly entry.

Then, Joel’s jerking the back-seat’s door ajar. Asking, “Pick ‘em ‘lright? Did ‘ya see?” His scruffy chin’s jutting, at his quartet of pumpkins.

You’re swallowing, “Y–Yep. Thanks, Miller.”

Joel’s gruffing, “C’mon. ‘Course, pretty girl.”

His arm’s effortlessly flexing, tanned and veined, amid transferring his plastic-bagged supplies. Joel’s guessing, “Need ‘t be fucked, in ‘ere?”

You shamelessly moan, “Mhm.”

He’s teasingly whistling, “Yeah? Ain’t far from home, baby.”

You’re grumbling, “T–Too far.”

Joel’s patronizing, “Gettin’ cocked, in ‘ere? ‘S really slutty.”

You sigh, “Don’t care. C’mere.”

The shopping cart’s rapidly returned, before the driver-seat’s groaning under Joel’s jeaned ass, “Needy pussy.” His construction boot’s tamping the brake’s pedal, “Ain’t it? Get ‘t fingerin’. Feed me somethin’ warm.”

Your brassy button’s unhitching; Your toothy zipper’s buzzing. You’re hurriedly shrugging the denimed material downward; Ankling it. His mouth’s prematurely parting. Your underwear’s transparent, flooding in arousal. Joel’s dangerously speeding, departing the feebly-populated parking lot.

He’s feverishly warning, “There’s an empty hay field, ‘round back. Bit ‘a off-roadin’. Yeah?” Directing, “Give ‘em.”

Then, Joel’s toughly tugging your panty’s waist-line. You’re shamelessly obedient; Your fabric restraint’s promptly removed. His beefy, index finger’s impatiently suspended; Pumping. Your pussy’s watering his passenger-seat’s cushioning; Your underwear’s encircling Joel’s commanding digit.

The all-terrain truck’s bumpily impeling, devouring the barren field’s acreage. Eyes involuntarily shutting, Joel’s blindly steering, inbreathing your underwear’s deluged gusset. His nostril’s flaring. His cock’s pitching, prodding below his crotch’s denimed rein; You’re stuffing your pussy’s well.

Joel’s harshly moaning, “Listen ‘t that. Cryin’ fuckin’ hole.”

You’re whimpering, “M–Mm. Ngh.”

He’s greedily ringing your plunging wrist; Yanking. The rapid removal’s obscenely squelchy. Then, Joel’s immediately slurping your index and middle finger’s balmy glaze; Your thumb’s pinning upon his chin’s graying, scratchy underside. The truck’s recklessly slowing.

Joel’s haphazardly parking. The halting, howling tires begin spewing an autumnal confetti; A misting of dry hay and auburn leaves. You’re suddenly hoisting against Joel’s bulging lap; He’s instantaneously hammering, before spitting out your moistened finger’s duet.

And, Joel Miller’s finally kissing you. His groan’s pouring, beyond your esophagus. Licking your mouth’s rippled roof; Siphoning your tongue’s humid pad. Your naked pussy’s pouncing upon Joel’s clad cock. He’s thumbing your cheek-bone’s divot and cupping your jaw-line’s hind; Whimpering.

He’s arousingly exhaling, “Ngh. ‘S fuckin’ tasty.” Then, Joel’s dropping horizontally. Laying, “Fixin’ ‘t guzzle ‘ya.”

His head’s hedging the passenger-side’s door; His boot’s budging the driver-side’s door. You’re drawing upward, as Joel’s guiding you. Your dewy hole’s ramming against Joel’s awaiting face; He’s nosing your clit’s distended mound. Your innard thigh’s twitching, “G–God. Feel fuckin’ good.”

 Arousal’s rigorously sopping Joel’s beard. His mustache’s coated and creamy. Your behind’s leveraging; Ass firmly spreading. Joel’s maneuvering and manhandling you. He’s lapping, nearly pornographically swigging. You’re internally levitating; Your spine’s liquefied, “A–Ahhhh. Joel, Joel.”

Joel’s innocently whispering, “What?” Then, “Asshole’s puckerin’. Need pluggin’?”

You’re deliriously nodding, Yes. His center digit’s tantalizingly traveling below. Brushing your clit’s crest; Scooping your cunt’s slick. Your fluttering, furthest hole’s aching, against Joel’s circling, finger’s pad. He’s beginning to tandemly traverse; Eating. Fingering.

Your stomach’s tightening, as Joel’s knuckling you. His head’s nuzzling; Shaking. His beard’s rigidly whiskering, across your core’s folding, before he’s relentlessly sucking. Your clit’s flickering; You’re blindingly cumming. Joel’s airily humping; His cock’s englarging.

He’s hoarsely speaking, “A–‘Atta girl.” Praising, “Drippin’ inside ‘a my fuckin’ ear?” Sniffling, “Up my fuckin’ nose? Good, wet girl.”

You’re dizzyingly horny, “Miller. PleasePleasePlease.”

Joel’s grinning, “Please?” 

Your puffy pussy’s eagerly lowering, “Yes.” You’re gyrating, against his lap’s ridge, “Fuck. F–Fuck me.”

He’s grunting, “Fuck ‘ya? Fuckin’ slut. Keep beggin’.”

Joel’s leaning upright and sitting upward. Your disoriented shirt’s being tossed away. Licking your throat’s trail; Skimming your nipple’s peak. You’re nakedly stamping atop his torso’s towering mass. Your skin’s goose-bumping, “Ngh. P–Please, Daddy.”

His brow’s amusedly arching, “Y–Yeah?” Demanding, “Who’s.” Thrust. “Your.” Thrust. “Daddy?”

Promising, “You.”

Joel’s approvingly nodding; His driver-side door’s thudding open. His arm’s muscularly solid, whilst effortlessly upholding you. You’re burrowing, at his throat’s protruding, pulsing vein, as he’s regressing vertical. His anterior boot’s pressing upon decaying hay; A gelid gust of wind’s wreathing.

He’s attentively mumbling, “Shiverin’? Let’s warm ‘ya. Hm?”

His beard’s balmy and cunt-scented. You’re being settled, amongst his driver-seat’s aged upholstering. You’re amorously fidgeting, as Joel’s flitting his belt’s metallic prong. The accessory’s yanked from his fading Wranglers, as Joel’s abutting the cushion’s edge; His zipper’s deliciously drawing.

The belt’s noisily plummeting; A leathery slap, against the floor-mat’s rubbery surface. Your waist-line’s eagerly grasped, whilst Joel’s positioning your pussy’s twingeing hole. He’s hissing, during an arousing upheaval, of his cock’s entirety; The seeping tip’s bypassing his belly-button’s nook.

His t-shirt’s becoming translucent, as pre-cum’s dampening it. You’re following the ample shaft’s terse twitching. Blurting, “Need. That.”

Joel’s attractively smug, “This?” He’s robustly swatting his cock, across your clit’s cummy summit, “Think it’ll fit?”

You whimper, “F–Fuckin’ make it.”

He’s lowly whispering, “Dirty fuckin’ mouth.” Then, Joel’s abruptly and aggressively entering, “Go ‘head. Keep mouthin’ off.”

The truck’s boisterously creaking, as Joel’s ruggedly rutting. Your cervix wall’s convulsing, crowning his cock’s head. Your shiny spend’s glossing Joel’s graying, pubic tuft. His groin’s angrily clobbering, striking your cunt’s doused expanse. You’re incoherently stammering, “N–Ngh.”

Joel’s responding, “Can’t hear ‘ya, bratty girl.”

You’re painfully stretching, inside-and-out. His jeaned, lower-portion’s gloriously grating your thigh’s rear. Your right-side leg’s hooking through the steering wheel’s median; Your left-side leg’s perching, against Joel’s widening shoulder’s tier, as he’s weightily falling forward, “Say somethin’?”

Your limb’s achingly pinned vertically; Your body’s contorting, creating an indecent, ninety-degree angle. His focused, sun-wrinkled forehead’s grown moist. His furling, silver-tinged strands begin cascading. The benched seat’s dilapidated stitching’s imprinting, decorating your back’s extent.

Your taint’s repeatedly thwacked, by Joel’s brimming balls. His angle’s hitching, hitting that spot. You’re shrieking, “A–Ah.”

Joel’s accordingly bottoming-out, “Doin’ good. Stretchin’ well. Ain’t it?” His hip’s briskly oscillating, “Good girl. Good pussy.”

You’re shuddering, “D–DaddyDaddyDaddy.”

The pleasure’s pouring. Your cunt’s palpitating; Your spine’s taut. Joel’s resultantly stroking, maintaining his pacing, but drilling harder. He’s licking, crossing your hung jaw-line’s road. His tenderized t-shirt’s feathering, against your exposed nipples, over-sensitively tapering them.

Joel’s rasping, “C’mon. Flood my fuckin’ truck.”

His tone’s arousingly languid. That’s it. You’re breathlessly cumming. Every extremity’s tightening, before blissfully dissolving. Your vision’s brightly impaired. Your climaxing moan’s fractured, as Joel’s ingesting it. His mouth’s restorative, whilst being ruining. You’re whispering, “Flood me.”

He’s whimpering, “Y–Yeah?” A prominent vein’s materializing, against his throat’s girthy rind, “Ain’t wet ‘nough, ‘lready? Greedy hole.”

Then, Joel Miller’s hotly erupting. His length’s flinching. Your fatigued, flittering hole’s wringing him. His aging brow’s bunching; You’re caressing his cinched expression. Your right-side leg’s being removed, amidst the steering wheel’s medial opening. Joel’s comforting, “Hurtin’?”

You’re indifferently shrugging; Joel’s unconvinced. His palm’s expertly massaging your leg’s weary ligament. You’re pathetically sighing, making Joel laugh. He’s kneading your knee-cap’s exhausted muscle, before fingering your calf-tendon’s aspiring knot. You stammer, “T–Thanks, Miller.”

Joel’s questioning, “How ‘bout Lowe’s, ‘morrow?”

You’re grinning, “Sure. If ‘ya sleep-over, tonight.”

[coryosbaby]

:¨ ·.· ¨:

`· . Be my daddy

(Dark! Dbf! Joel miller x reader)

A/N: tryna get my swag back u guys. Also if there r any spelling mistakes I’m sorry 🙏🏻

Masterlist

Thinking ab creepy n pervy Joel making you grind against your teddy bear in the middle of the night after sneaking into your room.. n then fucking your brains out after <3

Warning: 18+, somnophilia, pervy behavior, slight dubcon, possessiveness, overall dark themes// age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 50s), masturbation, cum play, grinding, daddy kink, spit, breeding kink, spanking, choking, size kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, dbf! Joel my beloved <3

Joel was always quite impatient.

And after a long night of drinking and watching the new football game with your father, he’s become tense. As fun as it is to sit and conversate with his best friend, his head is reeling now. He notes to the man beside him that he’s going to bed. A nod, as your father agrees the same.

And a few minutes later, as Joel leans against the closed door inside your bedroom, he watches you with his cock in his hand.

Of course, like the good girl you are, you had decided to go to bed early. You were on a college schedule, after all. So Joel hadn’t seen you all night. Not being able to catch sight of that familiar head of hair, tits out and ass bouncing under those short skirts you love so much, frustrated the man to no end. He grunts as his thumb moves over the slit of his girthy length, as he watches the way your breasts heave with each passing breath you let out. He’s surprised he hasn’t been caught yet. He’s been doing it every night that he comes over, after all.

He knows it’s wrong. But fuck, you’re so delectable; your curves are absolutely stunning, your lips perfectly full and plump, your thighs plush and soft. He can’t resist watching you. And it’s as if you want him to do this. You know he lives next to you, you know that he can see inside your room from your window that has no curtains, can watch you change and masturbate and do whatever the fuck else. You’re just begging for him to fuck your tight cunt.

It’s a wonder that he hasn’t done it sooner.

He moves a bit closer. Just close enough to be near the foot of your bed. The thought of you catching him like this gives him a thrill. His cock kicks when you turn over onto your side to face him. Your eyes are still shut, your brain still sleeping numbly.

“There she is.” Joel manages to breathe out through his sharp inhales. You look like an angel to him.

Your nipples are hard through your silky white slip. Joel can notice them now, as they make two small lumps in the fabric. Your tits are pushed together from the position you’re in. And Joel’s favorite part: your legs are stuck in between the fat of your thighs. It’s always been the kind of position you’ve laid in, as the warmth from your legs pussy brings you a sort of comfort. Joel can feel himself nearing his high.

And since he’s already doing it, what’s so wrong about moving a little… closer?

Bringing his strong arm down, he holds onto the wall as he kneels down on the edge of your bed. He’s so close now, your face a mere few inches away from his cock. He continues to stroke the skin of his shaft, watching your full eyelashes and pretty lips.

“God,” he murmurs. You can’t hear him, but that doesn’t stop Joel from running his mouth regardless. “Gonna cum all over this slutty little face, darlin’..”

And he does just that. His abdomen clenches, head thrown back as he begins to squirt warm ropes of semen all over your face. He lets out a very loud groan.

And of course, finally, that wakes you up.

When your eyes peel open, the first thing that comes to mind is that..

Your face is fucking wet.

That’s what you gather. So, you bring your fingers up to wipe- Elmer’s glue, maybe?- out of the sockets of your eyes. And when you look up, you see Joel.

A confused and disgruntled “what..?” Sounds from your mouth, and then when you see Joel looking down at you, you begin to take sight of him. He’s still jacking his cock.

“Joel?”

The man’s mouth falls open, another wave of pleasure rippling through him. He’s getting hard for the second time in a row. Your brows furrow as you look down. It must be too dark and you must be too tired to fully grasp what act your dad’s friend is commiting.

“Joel.. what’re you doing?” You sleepily mumble. It’s quickly replaced by a gasp of surprise when his hand goes up to grope your breasts, his rings cold against the bare skin of your collarbones. He becomes desperate, practically clawing at your soft body to get a taste of you. His tongue goes up to the apples of your cheeks. He kisses you there, soft. And then, the soft muscle inside his mouth runs along the ridges of your skin. His own cum connects to his lips in a sticky white string.

“Sorry baby,” he groans. “ couldn’t help myself...”

His thumb runs across your bottom lip, legs resting in between your spread ones, and he kisses you. You’re awake now, with enough brain power to register what’s actually happening. But if you’re being honest, you don’t want him to stop. Your hands shyly go up to his hair, still a bit disoriented. His messy locks are soft underneath your fingertips as he begins to slip his jizz soaked tongue into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut, heat beginning to gather in a pool between your legs. You can taste his cum as it evades your taste buds, musky and salty. Pulling away, you can feel his cock press against your thigh.

“Did you…” looking down, his stiffness is right there. Wet and hard and incredibly prominent, now. A small whine escapes you. “Joe…”

“‘M so hard for your cute little face, darlin’…got me gettin’ it up twice.”

That makes you mewl, as his mouth moves down to your neck. Your virginal hands shakily grasp his hair. On a particularly harsh tug, Joel groans. You think you’ve hurt him and done something wrong, and your nervous mouth begins to spew apologies. “Joe.. never done this before, ‘m sorry..”

Joel moans, maneuvering your body so he’s on his knees and in between your spread thighs. Your innocence makes his brain turn to mush.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetness. You’re such a good girl.”

He says it as he slips off his shirt, exposing his broad chest and muscles to you. A hard working man, Joel Miller is definitely built to hold things the way he wants them. So when his pants are finally removed, he uses his strong arms to lift your body and move the both of your upper parts towards the end of the bed. There’s more space, now, less stuffed animals and things.

There’s a moment of stillness, and then your hands are wrapping around a familiar furry object as you land down onto the mattress. It’s your stuffed teddy bear, the one Joel had gifted you for your birthday last year. It’s pink, with a bright red bow wrapped around its neck and a pair of black button eyes. You had named it Teddy, and it’s your favorite plushy.

Joel’s eyes move to your hand around it, and he smiles, amused.

“Does my baby want her teddy bear? Hm?”

His voice is teasing, but he brings it away from your grip and lifts himself away from your body. You whine, trying to grab his hands and put them back on you, but the man doesn’t budge.

“No,” he says. “I want you to use your teddy. Do you think you can do that?”

Your face flushes. It’s vulgar and filthy to suggest such a thing, but you want Joel to be proud of you. You’re hesitant, though. You’ve never done this before, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you quietly ask, “Can you teach me?”

Joel isn’t one to deprive you of a good lesson. “Of course.”

And that’s when he’s flipping your nightgown up to your chest. Your tits are exposed, along with your bare pussy hitting the night air. There’s no point in wearing underwear in this hot weather, after all. The sudden movement surprises you, and you’re quick to try and conceal yourself. Joel just laughs at your shyness.

“You’re beautiful, darlin’. Don’t do that.”

With hesitation you bring your hands away from your most private parts. Joel’s eyes turn dark, expression laced with lust. “Spread your legs for me.”

It’s a demand, and when your face heats up and you begin to slowly undo them, the man rolls his eyes and yanks them apart with his own hands.

His eyes practically roll back at the sight of your pulsing cunt. You’re soaked, juices dripping down the expanse of your pussy lips, practically swollen and begging to have a cock between them. Your clit is poking through, and Joel might be going crazy but he swears he can see the cute little pearl throbbing.

“God, look at that..” his finger ghosts over your slit, and then he’s using to of his fingers to expose your unused hole to him. “My little girl is so pretty, isn’t she? Little cunt is so small, too… don’t know if my big cock can fit in such a tiny little pussy.”

The force of his words makes you gush, and you shake your head at the thought of not being able to take him. He chuckles at your reaction. You exhale shakily, watching as his fingers still toys with your body. But then he grabs the teddy bear and begins to ghost its plastic nose over the inside of your thigh.

“Teddy’s gonna show you how to play with your pretty pussy. And I’m gonna watch. Okay?”

You nod quickly. You’re aching, and you’ll do anything to relieve it. And even though this all happened so suddenly, you can’t help but be happy that Joel is giving you this much attention. He’s been around for years, has been there with you through everything, and now that you’re all grown up you can let him take what he wants.

“Yeah, d—“ you pause, and the look on Joel’s face makes you flush with embarrassment. “—Joel. Yeah…” You stutter. A smile forms on his handsome face, as he presses Teddy’s nose right up against your clit.

“You can say it, honey,” he murmurs. “I’ll be your daddy. Use your holes and breed this little pussy just how I like. Don’t that sound nice? Daddy fucking his cum into your little belly?”

You clench at his words, your face practically on fire. You begin to grind against the bear’s nose.

“T-Talk to me more…” you say. Joel smiles, watches the look of frustration appear across your face when he lets go of the plushie and lets it rest against your cunt with no pressure. “Daddy, please!”

“I will, honey. But you have to make yourself feel good, for now. I’ll fuck you when you’ve earned it.”

You mewl as you bring your palm down and press the bear’s nose back against your clit. You begin to move your hips, twisting and turning the stuffed animal in a way that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure. Joel puts his cock back in his hand and jacks himself off with vigor as you practically fuck the bear with your pussy.

“Feel good, baby? Teddy’s nose on your little clit?” Joel murmurs. “Look at you, gorgeous—“ a grin spreads across his face, almost sadistic. He twists his wrist and practically drools down his chin when your doe eyes look up at him, desperate and pleading.

“Wonder what your daddy would think if he figured out you found a new one.”

That shouldn’t make you drip down your thighs, but it does.

“D-Don’t say that, Joel—” you exhale sharply, as your face takes on a look of frustration. The bear isn’t doing enough for you. “Maybe I should find someone else if you aren’t going to fuck me..”

That comment makes Joel mad, and his expression turns dark. With a rough hand he uses your thighs to flip you over onto your hands and knees. Your eyes widen at his sudden change in demeanor, and his palm comes down hard on your left cheek. You gasp, burying your head in your blanket. The teddy bear is thrown next to your face as Joel harshly gropes your ass.

“Don’t tell me what to do, little girl,” he growls. “I’ll say what I damn please. Now hold onto that teddy bear while I split your little cunt open. Because I’m the only one who can.” His breath is hot on your ear, a bit of fear beginning to sweep into your psyche (and maybe a bit of arousal beginning to drip onto the bed). “You understand me, bitch? You’re mine.”

You nod, as much as you can in your position. And when you feel the tip of Joel’s length press against your hole, you begin to stutter.

“W-Wait! Daddy, I-I don’t know if I’m wet enough…”

“Oh, you’re wet enough, baby.” Joel infers, as he looks down at your glistening snatch. “Trust me.”

And when he pushes in, the burning stretch makes your eyes widen. Although not as uncomfortable as you originally expected it to be, he’s still above average; this would be hard for any experienced woman to take, let alone a young virgin like yourself. You cry out, pussy clenching around the cock penetrating your womb. Joel’s eyes are rolled back, sweat beginning to drip down his forehead as he tries to keep himself still.

“Gotta loosen up, baby,” Joel moans. “Gonna cum quick if you keep clenchin’ like that.”

“Can’t help it, daddy, ‘m sorry..” you cry, as he presses in more. After a moment you feel his hips press against you, his cock fully in. He rests there, waiting for you to ask him to move.

“Good?” He murmurs, questionably. You can feel every vein, every ridge of him inside, and it makes you nod dumbly.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” he praises. He makes one shallow thrust of his hips. It feels odd to you, and a bit painful. But on the next few thrusts, it has your toes curling in carnal pleasure. He feels so hot and warm, and when he grabs your throat from behind and bends you towards him, he presses a kiss to your neck.

“Doin’ so good. Doggy is the hardest position too, baby. You’re such a quick learner.”

And that’s what you like about Joel. He pushes you over your limits, makes you succeed them, go farther than before and then makes you feel amazing about it. In your hazy mind, Joel is practically a god right now.

“T-Thank you, daddy..”

A strangled moan comes out as he picks up his pace and begins to pound you at a rapid rate. The sound of skin on skin feels the room as Joel’s thighs slap against yours.

“So— fuckin’ good for me,” he growls. “Good girl. Going dumb on her daddy’s cock like the desperate little slut she’s supposed to be.”

Your eyes roll back, and he grabs your throat and squeezes hard. Your juices drip down his aching prick and he watches as your cunt swallows him whole. He chuckles when he feels you clenching him unusually hard.

“Gonna cum, darlin’? Or do you need me to touch you some more?”

“Need…” your eyes flutter shut, as you go brain dead on his cock. There’s a small string of desperate pleas of the man’s name in between your sentence.“Need you to touch my clit— Please, daddy, t-touch my clit! Make me cum!”

And then Joel’s fingers are coming down to your slick pearl, rubbing it between his two fingers as you release all over him. Your juices are gushing, squirting all over him and the bed, and Joel honestly doesn’t know how you can be any more perfect. He moans as you cream on him, and with a few more thrusts he’s filling your womb up with his seed.

The only thing left is you and Joel’s shared harsh breaths. Your legs shake as you stay buried in the mattress. It’s too hard to get up right now.

And that��s when you hear the loud voice beginning to come from outside as someone bangs on your bedroom door.

“Y/N! You better not have any boys in my house this late! I can hear you from downstairs! ”

You and Joel freeze. It’s your father, on the other side of the door.

And when the man looks across the hall, he catches sight of the empty and deserted room that his best friend has been staying in for months. You and Joel look at each other with wide eyes as your dad begins to scream, enraged.

“Joel?! Are you in there?!”

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling into My Sins

chapter one: back in the alleyway

dbf!joel x fem!reader series- loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6

summary: it’s your first night out since moving back with your dad after graduating college. while at the bar you meet an attractive mystery man and end up hitting it off. things get heated when you convince him to dance with you.

word count: 2.7k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) alcohol consumption, light swearing, slight dubious consent (things get heated while drunk), pet names (sweetheart, babe, etc.), no use of y/n, no physical description of reader.

notes: this is my first time really writing anything so i’m very nervous to post this , i've also been working on one other fic but i decided to post this first. thank you for taking the time to read and any feed back is welcome & appreciated xo <3

also thank you so much to @shatteredbaby for proof reading ily so much bby, and @pr0ximamidnight for also proof reading, letting me ramble like a maniac and helping me with ideas ilysm. i appreciate you both so so so much <3

It’s your first weekend going out since you’ve moved back home with your dad. You’ve just graduated from the Art institute of Chicago in the spring, but your lease wasn’t up on your apartment until August so you stayed near campus until then. Now that you’re back, some of your old friends from high school offered to take you out as a sort of welcome home. You’re just finishing getting ready when you get a text from your friend Aya.

We’re here!! Hurry up Dee is getting impatient!

You roll your eyes and smile. Typical. You’re a bit nervous since you haven’t seen them in about a year, but you’re sure once you’re out it will feel like you weren’t even gone. You throw on a jacket and run down the stairs, grabbing your keys as you go.

“I’m leaving!” You call out.

“Have fun bud!” Your dad shouts from the other room.

Your parents had recently divorced while you were away, so it’s just you and your dad now. You feel kinda bad leaving him alone when you just got back, but you’ll make up for it.

You close the front door behind you and run down your front porch towards Aya’s car. As you get closer, the passenger window rolls down.

“Ahhhhh you’re back!!!” Your friend, Dee, yells. You laugh at her reaction and open the back door to the car.

“Hey!” You slide in and buckle your seat belt.

Aya turns around with one hand still on the wheel. “Long time no see! Tonight’s gonna be fun,” she says with a smile.

“We’re taking shots as soon as we get there,” Dee says with a sly smile and you laugh, leaning back fully into the seat as Aya drives, heading for downtown.

As soon as the three of you find a bar, Dee keeps her promise and orders you all shots and they send you to find a booth while they wait for the order. There aren’t many people in the bar yet since it’s only nine, but it’s slowly filling up. You look around the place, taking in the large bar that runs across one wall with stools gathered around it and across from it is the booth seating you’ve sat in. There are a few high top tables scattered around the perimeter of the bar, a pool table to the right of the door next to the large dance floor in the center that’s currently empty, and the sounds of eighties and nineties rock hits filling the large room.

As you’re looking around, the door to the bar opens and two men walk in. The first man has long dark curly hair, a patchy beard, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a tan jacket and brown boots. The other man has shorter dark hair, a similarly patchy beard streaked with gray, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a green flannel and brown boots. He’s quite handsome, you think – broader than the first man, his frame stretching the fabric of the flannel to its limit. Your eyes flick back up to his face, taking in the curve of his nose, the crease between his brows and dark brown eyes. When your eyes meet, he’s looking right at you and you immediately glance away, embarrassed that he caught you checking him out. When you dare to look at him again, his gaze is still locked on you.

“Okay, let’s do this!” Dee says as the girls approach the table with a round of shots and a drink for each of you.

Your eyes snap away from the man’s and you smile at them, grabbing a shot glass.

“To celebrate your return home,” Dee says, raising her glass for you to toast against.

You tilt your head back letting the cold liquid slide down. You close your eyes and wince as the sour flavor with the aftertaste of vodka that burns your throat. When you open your eyes again you’re met with the stranger’s warm brown eyes on you still, a shy smile on his face before he turns towards the bar and leans on the wooden counter. You set the glass down on the table and look back to your friends.

The three of you sip on your drinks for about thirty minutes or so, talking about school and catching up on life. At some point while you were all catching up, the bar switched to playing early 2000s music as more people came in. You find your eyes wandering towards the gorgeous man every few minutes, admiring his side profile, the way his hand is wrapped around his beer bottle and his shirt is rolled up to expose his forearms.

You all finish your drinks and Aya is pulling you and Dee onto the dance floor. “Come on!! I love this song!!!”

You don’t recognize the song, but you follow them onto the floor dancing and smiling as they sing along. You find yourself looking towards the bar again hoping to catch the man’s eye, but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to get another drink.” You say loudly over the music.

The girls just nod and keep singing along. You make your way through the crowd that’s formed in the place and find the bar. Your eyes are still scanning, looking for him, when all of a sudden someone comes up beside you, leaning onto the bar. From the corner of your eye you can tell who it is. You turn your head and it’s the mystery man. He’s even more attractive up close, a dimple on his right cheek as he smiles down at you, slight creases next to his eyes. Your eyes travel down towards his broad shoulders and the skin on his chest that’s showing where his shirt is unbuttoned.

“Hi.” the man says while smiling down at you. His voice is like honey, deep with a southern drawl.

Your lips slightly part as you hesitate for a second “Hi.” you finally say back.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He nods towards the bar.

You shake your head in agreement.

“What are you havin’, sweetheart?” He asks.

You clear your throat. “Whatever you’re having.” You smile.

“Hm.” his lip quirks up as his eyes roam your form. The bartender comes over and he orders two beers, then his eyes are back on you. “You here with friends?”

“Yeah uh, I was out of town, I just got back so we’re celebrating.” You decide to keep it vague.

“Well,” the bartender comes back with your beers and he hands one to you. “Welcome back.” He smirks, then you both take a sip.

You can’t help but watch the way his hand wraps around the bottle as he brings it up to meet his lips. You take a few sips of your beer, eyes still locked on him, then place it back on the counter. You’re feeling a little more confident now.

“What about you,” you place your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your hand, looking up at him. “Who are you here with?”

He looks over his shoulder into the crowd, an amused look on his face. “My brother.” You follow his eyes to see his brother sitting in a booth with a girl, leaning into her as they talk.

You giggle then turn back to the man. You’re noticing some similar features now that you know they’re brothers.

“You two come here every weekend chatting up girls and buying them drinks?” You bite your cheek and give him a teasing look.

He nods his head slowly looking down at the bar where he’s leaning on his forearms and lets out a small laugh. “Every now n’ then.” He looks back at you, a slight flush on his cheeks.

“Mmm bit of a player huh?” You lift your brow, teasing him some more.

He’s laughing again, it’s a deep chested laugh that makes his shoulders slightly bounce. “Wouldn’t say that, haven’t had much luck recently.” He looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes.

You nod your head taking another swig of your beer “So, what do you do for a living?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Uh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m a contractor.” that explains his broad shoulders.

You bite your thumb and lean a little closer to him, arm brushing up against his. The alcohol is definitely taking an effect now. You’re checking him out again, and it’s not subtle. The way his shirt fits snug around his biceps, and his jeans fit his waist just right. He takes another sip of his beer and your eyes lock again.

Then suddenly a song you recognize comes on, Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado. You hear your friends squealing on the dance floor as the song starts, causing you to whip your head towards them then back to the mystery man.

“I’ll be right back.” You smile at him sweetly, finishing off your beer and setting the empty bottle on the table before leaving to join your friends.

You get out to the floor and they hold their hands out towards you, smiling and singing along to the song. You’re swaying your hips to the beat, mouthing the lyrics as you dance. Your hands are moving up and down your body, over the tights you’re wearing and slightly bunching up the short slip dress you have on. You’re lost in the music, then suddenly your eyes lock with the mystery man’s again, darkening as they watch you move. He’s leaning up against the bar, beer in one hand and the other in his front pocket.

‘Promiscuous boy you already know

That I’m all yours, what you waiting for?’

You’re mouthing the words, eyes never leaving his. You tilt your head to the side and give him a cheeky smile before moving your hands over your hips again. He lifts his hand out of his pocket, beckoning you back to him with his pointer finger. You shake your head no, and mimic his motion telling him to come to you. You turn away from him, back towards your friends, then glance at him over your shoulder and mouth, “Dance with me.”

A few moments later you feel a large warm hand run down your arm, and the back of a hand runs over the nape of your neck and down your shoulder before resting on your hips. You turn your head to look and it’s your mystery man, looking down at you with desire in his eyes. You turn around, still in his grasp, and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body flush to his.

You’re swaying with his hands on your hips now, grinding up against him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans his forehead against yours, taking in a deep breath. You tilt your head up, heavy lidded eyes scanning his face and your nose bumping his, your parted lips allowing a shared breath in the scant space between your mouths.

Then he’s kissing you, one hand on your hip lightly squeezing, the other resting on your cheek. He lets out a small groan and slips his tongue into your mouth, a mixture of mint and beer fill your senses. You gently pull the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to let out a sigh.

“Sweetheart.” His voice sounds gravelly and deeper than before. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Then don’t,” you say, so low it’s almost a whisper, just between the two of you.

You’re so close to him, you can feel his arousal straining against his pants as you press yourself against him.

“Come with me.” he looks down at you while trying to catch his breath.

He kisses you again, hand resting on your cheek. You nod approvingly as he pulls away. He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you off the dance floor towards the door. You notice his hand is much larger than yours, a little rough and calloused most likely from his job. He looks back at you a few times, and you just stare at his broad frame as you follow him. You look at the way his hair sits so perfectly, eyes wandering to his large forearms as he pulls you along behind him.

Moments later you two are outside and he’s pulling you around the side of the brick building. He backs you up against the wall, lips immediately crashing into yours. His palms rest on either side of your face, thumbs roughly caressing your cheeks like he just can’t get enough.

“You were killing me in there,” He’s towering over you, your hands clinging to his forearms.

“Was I? Couldn’t tell.” you smile slyly.

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re somethin’ else babe, deadly.” he’s kissing you again, hands moving down your body to your waist.

You grab at the fabric of his shirt near his chest, trying desperately to pull him closer. His large hands find the hem of your dress and move up over your tights clad thighs. You moan into his mouth, heat already starting to build at your core. Moans and heavy breaths filling the air as you claw at his skin. You gently bite at his lower lip then slip your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. As you lower your hands towards the waist of his jeans, tucking your fingers into the front and pulling his hips flush against yours, you feel him shudder. You let out a whine as you feel the imprint of his straining cock once again.

Then you hear the door to the bar bursting open and two familiar voices talking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, shhhh.”

You freeze as your lips leave Joel’s, wide eyes meeting his before stepping away from him to peer around the corner. He lets out a groan as he adjusts himself, one hand still on your hip trailing behind you as you near the corner of the building. Then you see Aya with her arm around Dee, rubbing her back. You stand up straight, pulling away from Joel.

“Oh my god?! What happened?” You sprint over to them.

“Oh thank god, we were looking everywhere for you.” Aya looks up at you. “Dee had too much to drink, we need to go.” She loops her arm into Dee’s. “I grabbed your things, where were you?”

Then you see her eyes wander to the broad older man shuffling up behind you and her eyes go wide. She leans in close to you and mouths “Oh my god”. You can feel your face heating up as you turn around to face him.

“You ladies need a ride home?” He looks down at you, concerned look on his face.

“Oh uh.” You turn back to Aya.

“No, we've got it covered-” she smiles at him.

“But thank you,” it comes out louder than intended. “I appreciate it,” taking a step closer to him you whisper “And sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, Killer.” He flashes a charming smile at you.

“Killer?” You laugh at the nickname and he nods his head.

“We gotta go!” Aya yells out to you.

You whip your head to look at her, then your eyes meet his again. “Well, it was nice meeting you, mystery man.” You give him one last look and go to turn around towards your friends. He gently grabs your shoulder, surprising you.

“Wait,” it comes out soft as he whips you around to face him again. “Can I at least have your number?”

You hesitate for a moment. “What, so you can add me to your roster?” You try to hold back a smile.

“C’mon.” he looks away shaking his head, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

“Give me your phone.” He looks back at you, relief in his eyes. Then he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to you.

You type in your number and put your contact name as Killer. You hand him back his phone and quickly get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His eyes go slightly wide, and then you’re turning away, running towards the car before he can say anything. As you grab your jacket and purse from your friend and slip into the car, you smile at him before closing the door.

You watch him through the window standing there with his hands in his pockets as the car pulls away. Your mystery man, you hope to see him again.

ty for reading xo

tagging a few moots but np! anyone who wants to be tagged in the next one let me know :)

@nostalxgic @ilovepedro @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beskarandblasters @jenispunk @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pedrospartner @canseethebrushstrokes @scrambledslut @isitmeulookin4 @tinygarbage <3

[zombiiegrr]

no one knows . 💌

dbf ! joel x fem! reader

cw : dumbification, a bit of overstimulation, slight degrading, heavy praise, age gap (Joels 40, readers 21 ) , daddy kink , slightly pentup joel, mentions of breeding, bit of jealousy talk of exhibition and sex with multiple of ppl. afab reader !! w she/her pronouns ..

there’s a slight mention of his arms being the size of your face and him holding you up while u.. welp! but fyi Joel is beefy and over 6’2 in this fanfic just for my own “personal” liking he is STRONG cause im a big girl myself don’t feel like you gotta size down for this! not at all. enjoy sweetheart ≧◡≦

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

You were beautiful and finally wanted to visit home. College in California was amazing being originally from Dallas, Texas loving the beaches and the social life back in Cali away from your Christian strict family who didn’t understand the point of being an adult is living your life not doing anything that other people wanted you to do but living how you wanted to.

everyone was trying to talk to you sliding smart remarks about you “developing and showing it” all giving you fake smiles as they “ adjusted” your shirt that was perfectly appropriate but had to have the church’s approval. You quickly make your way away from everyone and made the small walk about to your childhood home. You walked in taking a deep breath looking for your father making your way into the garage 

Honestly you were distracted , not by everyone calling and wanting to see you, not by people wondering how you grew into a women so fast and making you uncomfortable with the way they were adjusting. no you were distracted by the man working on the car before you in your fathers garage covered in car oil who surprised you 

Joel miller

You would never say that you were shy or even think after dealing with college boys that any man would make you feel nervous or even needy. But Joel managed to make you feel like a teen again he made you want his attention by doing small things like bending over and spilling water on your white shirt trying to make eye contact with him not winning as he locked eye contact with you.

you greeted your dad handing him the water he yelled for when you walked in, bending over to see the older man under the car who wanted anything to drink or snack on.

“s’okay darlin lemme finish this part up and I’ll take you on that offer” he answered grunting as he fixed up the small part he was screwing back into place his arms looked like the size of your face he put his strength into this small piece of the car

you felt like a perv as you watched his whole bodywork on this car sliding out looking around for his small towel to wipe anything that got onto his face in the way. you didn’t dress up not expecting him to wear an old volleyball jersey and some cherry-printed shorts with long white socks that you grabbed from your father's room

you suddenly felt underdressed and he looked at every detail of your outfit making you feel like changing into something he might like. As he finished up standing reminding you how he felt like he was towering over you as he reached to put the oil behind you not breaking eye contact.

your dad invited him over for the game wanting to drink beer and asked you if you wanted to join. You didn’t know anything about football or anything they talked about but you knew Joel would be there and agreed to watch the game with them.

Joel said he would head over to his place to freshen up cause he was covered in oil and sweat. you thought about putting something nicer but didn’t want to be obvious that you were trying to impress him you felt so desperate for this older man’s attention as he slip out of your home.

you decided to just breathe and clear your mind and relax clearing any impure thoughts in your mind before walking out into the living room again. You did put on a tad bit of perfume and some lip gloss staying in your room until you hear Joel’s trunk pull up again.

He let himself in and after twenty minutes you sat in between your father and Joel as the game went on. Your dad had about 3 beers at this time and wasn’t even staying awake for the game and started to fall asleep excusing himself for a “break” knowing he was going to knock out. Joel didn’t say much as he was focusing on the game as he stretched his arm on the armrest behind you closing in the space between the both of you.

“So. College?” Joel broke the silence making you perk up from looking at your thighs.

“College..” you mumbled not knowing where he was going with that but happy to talk to him.

“Any new things you can’t share with your father” he joked with a visible smirk growing

you playfully pushed his arm “wouldn’t you like to know” you replied

“so not the good girl I know anymore? shoulda known” now that got a reaction out of you due to the nickname you sure did enjoy.

“I haven’t been for a while mr. miller” you whispered as you put you head back on the couch. he looked at you clearly not focused on the game anymore

“speak up honey didn’t quite hear you.” he said not letting you break eye contact with him while he took in all of your reactions.

“I'm not a good girl anymore Mr. miller” you said loud enough for him to hear you not wanting to be quiet this time. The look he was giving you wasn’t clear you couldn’t tell if he was upset or turned on by whatever you were saying but you didn’t want to stop.

he just kept looking at you. You wanted to beg him to say something looking at you like he wanted something from you but didn’t want to say it. Like he was scared of doing something like if he wouldn’t be able to stop himself but that was you just hoping

“gotta watch that mouth sunshine or you're gonna give me the wrong idea” he said as he arm left from behind you rubbing his eyebrows

“what? you scared sir?” that got his attention as he shot his eyes at you. “it’s almost like you lost that touch I would hear you and my dad talking about I wanna see what the fuss is about”

“geez you are gonna kill me sugar” he laughed to you as he adjusted his pants “I have no clue what your talking about. I ain’t lost my touch”

you took a swing of the left over beer you had on the table scooting your hips a bit closer to him

“Maybe those college boys just don’t know what they're doing” You paused looking at him, while he watched you waiting for the rest of your sentence “They don’t know how to make me feel good Joel, or is that just all men?” You whispered in his ear as you could see his pants getting a bit tight again giving you a confidence boost.

You excepted another shut down or him telling you to watch your mouth but you felt his hands pulling you by your hips and the other pulling you by your face his lips tasting like candy and beer mixing the fruit flavors you had placed on the table

“Ain’t you a dirty girl” is all he said as you moaned against his lips looking for some relief while your body ached to be touched by the older man in front of you. You were now sitting in his lap as you rode his thigh as he kissed your neck and collarbone. You didn’t know how or why it took so little for him to touch you but you didn’t care.

He held your thighs in place laughing at how needy you were for him he stopped kissing you and just was taking a good look at you sighing

‘m suppose to be watching the game” he said while rubbing your thighs clearly hard underneath you. “we shouldn’t do this darlin” he whispered

“but you want to” you answered grinding yourself on him as he grunted gripping your thighs a bit tighter. He kissed your arm a bit more and told you for your good he would be heading home.

“joel-.” He cut you off with a kiss then a kiss on the forehead telling you to head to bed.

You couldn’t believe you got womanly blue balled and knew you had to keep getting back at him.

you walked him out with a clearly frustrated look making him laugh at you again. As he said his goodbyes telling you to rest easy.

you weren’t gonna make this easy for him

two days later . 💌

You greeted the small group of ppl your father had invited over getting water from the fridge happy that your dad had gave up on making you change your outfits since 10th grade.

you wore that shirt on purpose. you were teasing him. he sat with a hard-on while you served everyone drinks with that cute white sheer t-shirt with a cute red lace push-up sticking out while your cute miniskirt struggled to stay covering your ass as you bounced around the kitchen you’d purposely bend over a little farther every time you gave a drink to someone in front of him spreading your legs fat enough for him to see what he wanted but for so short of time.

“excuse me Joel” you giggled as you gave him a clear view of under your skirt in front of all your father's friends “passing” by him to sit inside on the couch.

the men started asking you the same questions, about the school, and my plans for afterward you would feel Joel’s eyes on you as you shamelessly flirted with the older men at the table

you pulled out your phone texting the number you stole from your dads phone excusing yourself to the bathroom

“hi there mr.miller” you texted waiting for a reply as you watched him look at his phone from the bathroom window.

he smirked a bit before replying “Get out of the bathroom” You giggled as you reached to take a picture of the wet mark growing in your underwear under your mini skirt pulling your underwear to the side a bit showing a little more for him. you sent the picture then looked out the window to see his reaction

he spit on his drink and quickly excused himself from the table making you laugh as you exited the bathroom looking at your phone to see you were still on read. you giggled as you walked not watching where you were going feeling an arm pulling you back to the bathroom you had just left

“Are you batshit? right in front of your father? aint you a dirty bitch did you want them all to see” he was so angry you could see his muscles flexing all of his insults went straight to your underwear and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter for him as he pushed you against the bathroom door locking it behind you

“getting so worked up over a picture geez how long as it been” you joked throwing coal in the fire as you watched for his reaction

“Such a dirty mouth. s’okay you just need a man to fuck it shut. on your knees” You crossed your arms acting as if you wanted nothing more than his cock bruising your throat

“don’t fucking make me make you” You giggled at him as you went down slowly feeling him force you down faster sliding his sweats down sliding his boxers down next. he was so big and heavy it’s not like you didn’t guess he would be but seeing it up close scared you a bit. he told you to open up so you did way quicker than you probably should’ve giving you no time as he started to tease you before giving you one last breath and stuffing your throat

He was laughing at all the noises you made and the way you pulled on his sweats and squeezed his thighs you could take it you knew you could but you didn’t know he would make you take it so fast

“‘m gonna cum faster then i wanted to fucking tight throat ” you hummed on his cock as he gave you no mercy letting out curses and groans he pulled your head back and started to jerk off right above your face groaning as you looked him right in the eyes

“silly girl you just wanted attention aint that right” he joked as he slapped himself on your cheek grabbing your head once again and slamming himself right back into your throat

“fucking showing off in front of everyone. you want them to fuck you too? all of us fuckin you dumb” you shook your head as he pulled out of you to let you talk

“no no i want you” you mumbled while taking deep breaths as you watched him jerk off in front of you again.

“I know sugar I know cause i wouldn let anyone fuck what’s mine,” he said as you finally make your throat feel full again. He started to shake and grip your head harder as he let out more praises for you

“fuckin take it fuck me” he whispers as he paints the inside of your throat with his cum making sure you shallow and don’t waste a drop of him. As he finally comes back to his senses he starts to kiss your forehead as you hear your father calling out to you for being gone for a while

you try to call back even with the sore throat saying you would be right there. Looking at Joel who looked more relaxed shooting him air kisses and you walked out of the bathroom.

a few days later 🥀

you missed Joel texting him once and a while teasing him with pictures getting a call right away. You had the house to yourself as you walked around in pretty underwear and a small top you had since the junior year you jumped when you seen a man inside your sink you noticed right away it was the man you had been cumming to for the last few nights.

you cleared your throat making him aware of you and seeing him peak out while looking you up and down as he kept working

“ain’t you up early” he grumbled and he sounded like he finished up whatever he was working up sitting up and starting to clean and wash his hands in the sink

you just looked at him as he washed his hands and nails being such a clean man. you suddenly felt needy for him again realizing he hasn’t even touched you and you’ve had his cock in your mouth

you started to rub on his arm making him look at you real quick then looking around

“what time do you think your dad will be back” he asked

“around 9 pm it’s only 10 am right now,” you said giving him a nice view of the cute underwear you threw on he chuckled at you and bit your shoulder gently and kissed up slowly. you wiggled under him wanting more as you started to hold yourself in place bending you over the kitchen counter. he slowly took off your underwear dropping to his knees and letting out a beautiful sound while he looked at your bare cunt already wet for him he slowly kiss around your thighs and made his way slowly to your aching core not knowing when or how he was going to touch you

you felt him kiss your clit making you moan softly as he opened you up slowly he was focusing hard on your clit and it was driving you over the edge already. You had wanted him so bad and now you had him and you could feel yourself losing it quickly he brought his hand up along your leg squeezing gently finally bringing his long fingers up to your begging body

his thick fingers stretched you out nice as you squeezed around him leaning on the kitchen sink you couldn’t breathe and didn’t know how you were so close to just his fingers and mouth.

“I ain’t the stupid boys you fuck around with dumb girl,” he said gripping your face and making you look at him as he used his mouth to play with your desperate clit. “s’okay gonna fuck that cunt straight baby girl so desperate for a breeding” That drove you over the edge as he touched everywhere you needed

“m sorry Daddy” You had never called anyone that before never feeling like it never fit with the boys the same age as you seeing as they never did this much foreplay with you.

He kept his eyes on you as he smirked at the name you had slipped out. he forced you to look at him not that you wanted to look at anything else. you repeated the nickname slower while you clenched around his fingers.

“aint that fucking pathetic. you want me that bad?” you nodded quickly as he was laughing at how shameless you were being for him. “such a stupid girl”

you could feel yourself getting closer as he continued to lick your sensitive clit while fingering you as the wet sounds grew and grew

“m gonna- can i?” you felt yourself asking if you could cum for him knowing you would even if he said no way to close to stop yourself now

“cum for you ‘daddy’ darlin” You allowed yourself to cum while slightly mocking you keeping the same pace which you were happy for not even begging to argue with him mocking you as it turned you on even more. He didn’t stop after you came holding you in place as you shook in his mouth feeling tears touch your cheeks taking all of him and he enjoyed your reaction. you couldn’t take it anymore gripping his hair crying out for him as you started to cum again so quickly

It took you so long to stop shaking on his fingers before he pulled your arm walked you to your bedroom and pushed you onto your bed you legs were shaking as you still felt sensitive from the overstimulation in the kitchen. You could hear his belt buckle coming off and felt his hands touching you all over again as he stretched your pussy wider lining himself up against your wet hole you couldn’t help but shake underneath him looking at how big he was again

“is it gonna fit?” you asked shaky looking back at him

“we’ll make it fit” he mumbles as he slides himself slowly into you getting a groan and whimper from the both of you as he filled you up so beautifully you gripped the sheets mumbling about how big he was you could feel your legs go numb as he slowed pressed into you.

“aint even all of me baby” he laughed as he pressed farther into you filling you up in a way you had never felt before. He was finally stopping for a second giving you a bit of time to adjust to him.

“Please move Joel i-I need it” you finally said as you got needy from the cockwarming it only took a second more of begging before Joel was slowly taking you. You keep squeezing hoping he would go faster

“behave” was all he said as he spanked you, you let out a long whine wanting him more than anything knowing you could take it

“m a big girl I can ta-take it” is all you said before you felt your arms being pulled back as he started to slam himself into you. You couldn’t breathe anymore as moans and cries were slipping out of you

the older man was letting out cuss words and beautiful praises as he fucked you senseless

“fucking mine you ain’t ever fucking those boys ever again baby girl.” Joel could feel himself becoming drunk off of you as he put his arm under your neck pushing your body onto his as he kept fucking himself into you.

you could barely think as he fucked parts of you he was filling you up so good as you lost your thoughts and could only think about Joel and how good you were feeling

“please Joel I can feel you so deep please please Joel” you kept repeating as you got closer and closer again he kissed your neck noticing you slipping under him he pulled out making you cry at the loss of him flipping you over so your legs rested on his shoulders and he could look at you while he fucked himself into you.

“That’s a good girl. you alright sweetheart” he lightly slapped your cheek getting your attention and making sure you weren’t too lost to tell him you needed a break and this was the only time he could feel himself able to stop

“m ok.. please,” you said as you rocked your hips into him needing to feel him deep inside you again. Seeing you so drunk off of him brought him over the edge he could feel himself getting there as he brought his fingers to touch your aching clit and brought you there with him as he slowly thrust into you kissing you gently making you lose yourself again.

“feel so good. sweetheart you feel so good” he whimpered out making you squeeze around him kissing him sloppy as his fingers touched right where you needed them. you grabbed onto his arm lazily trying to make him aware but he could feel it and hear how breathless you were getting he could hear how sloppy you sounded for him again unable to stop himself he kept going until you were there

“you fucking my cock so good. good job sugar” he talking you through it praising you as you bounced up and down on him.

“Where do you want me,” he asked praying you said inside he didn’t want to cum anywhere else he just wanted to watch himself leak out of your claiming your pussy as his.

“in- inside in please I want it so bad please ” you didn’t even recognize yourself as you begged still sensitive and shaking.

“I got you Darlin Jesus I’m gonna breed this pussy sugar” he mumbled as he let out a long groan as he pushed your legs back stuffing himself into you as he fill you up warm. he still kept kissing the side of your neck as he let out beautiful songs as you lightly squeezed around him not wanting to waste anything.

you both sat there with his head in your neck and your arms around him. he didn’t move for a bit as you started to recollect yourself gathering everything squeezing his neck and smelling his hair . he pulled himself out slowly earning a moan at the loss. he left for a second leaving you a bit lonely coming back with water, a wet washrag, and baby wipes from the bathroom.

“you gotta go pee, sweetheart” he reminded you as he cleaned you off gently kissing every part he cleaned putting the water bottle in your hand

“please don’t leave while i pee” you said using him to stand up limping to the bathroom

“wouldn’t dream of it darling” as you came back from the bathroom and the rubbed all over you making sure you were comfortable and that you didn’t regret anything he was so gentle and you didn’t want to be anywhere else. you had time before your father came back and just wanted to relax with Joel.

authors note! 📩

HIII THIS IS KINDA LONG DID U GUYS LIKE ITTTT PLZ LMKK IF U DID i havent wrote in so long and this isn’t even proof read wtf but yeah okay thank you so much for reading sorry the aftercare part kinda sucked I suck at that. plz Lmk if u guys want anything else okay bye bye love you!

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.2

Chapter 2: ​​Just Screeching Tires And True Love

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Fem Receiving, Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Oh, wow. I didn’t expect all the love you all gave in the previous chapter. That was my first time writing real, raw, dirty smut. Like IM STILL SO NERVOUS AND SHY to post smut AHSKJFHAHAHA. The introvert in me is like… having a huge anxiety attack rn PLS– 

So, um, chat, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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Joel's skilled hands and tongue explore every inch of your body, knowing that a series of powerful orgasms is the key to preparing you for him.

His fingers and tongue trace a path of pleasure over your skin, and you can't help but respond to his touch. Despite your reservations, you find yourself quickly reaching a boiling point, your body trembling with need.

Joel's touch is like a dream come true, his hands and mouth staking his claim on what's his. He takes his time undressing you, savoring every moment of this intimate moment.

As you lay back, your legs wrapped around his shoulders, Joel's tongue delves deep inside you, exploring every inch of your slick folds. His mouth moves over your clit with the same skill and passion as his lips on yours.

You try to whisper his name, to tell him something, anything, but every time he shifts his mouth to ask if you're okay, you can only shiver and gasp, your body trembling with pleasure.

Joel's touch is like a drug, and you find yourself quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of his hands and mouth on your body. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that only Joel can bring you.

Joel can't help but feel the overwhelming urge to bury himself deep inside you, to feel your slick heat surrounding him.

His balls are heavy and tight, his cock twitching against his jeans as he fights the urge to climax.

But despite his own desire, Joel remains focused on your pleasure, his tongue exploring every inch of your body as you shudder and moan beneath him.

You are a vision of beauty, your skin flushed and glowing with the aftermath of your climax.

Joel's own need is intense, but he holds back, wanting to make sure you're fully satisfied before he takes his own pleasure.

"I need you, darlin'," he groans, his body pressed against yours as he fumbles with his zipper.

But when you speak up, he stops, his body tensing with anticipation.

"What is it?" he pants, his heart racing as he tries to hold back his own climax.

You look worried, and Joel can't help but feel a pang of concern.

"This is what you want?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You nod, but there's still a hint of worry in your eyes.

"Buttercup, what is it?" he presses, his concern growing.

But when you tell him, his heart swells with emotion.

"I've never been with anyone before, Joel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel feels a surge of protectiveness and love, knowing that he's the first person to ever touch you in this way.

Joel's heart swells with emotion as you confess your virginity. He pulls you close, kissing your forehead as he whispers reassurances.

"No, I don't mind, darlin'," Joel reassures you, his voice filled with tenderness and desire. "It means you'll be mine, and I'll be your first."

You still look uncertain, but the hunger in your eyes tells Joel everything he needs to know.

His cock strains against his jeans, eager to be freed, aching to be inside you. Joel smiles, a mix of pride and desire filling him as he sees your attraction to him.

"We can go as fast or slow as you want, darlin'," he whispers, his hands finding your hips as he settles back between your legs.

But you have other plans. Your arms pull him close, your voice a breathless plea, "Yes, yes please, now."

Joel's heart races as he finds his zipper and frees his cock, the tip swollen and eager, ready for you.

"You sure?" he asks, his hands trembling with anticipation as you nod, your desire written all over your face.

With a swift movement, Joel sheds his flannel, revealing his soft yet toned body, his full erection standing proud and ready for you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you murmur, your eyes widening at the sight of him, the intensity of the moment hitting you.

As you both revel in the anticipation of what's to come, a distant rumble breaks the moment - a truck, your father's truck, parked outside.

Panic sets in as you realize the situation, the urgency of the moment propelling you both into a frenzy of dressing, the need for secrecy driving you to move quickly.

In a rush of movement, you both scramble to get dressed, the interruption leaving you both breathless and on edge, the promise of what was about to happen hanging in the air.

You hear the heavy steps of your father approaching the porch, the sound echoing through the house before the bell rings. Joel watches you quickly compose yourself, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your clothes, trying to appear composed despite the heated moment you both shared.

You move to Joel's kitchen, pretending to search through his pantry, your heart racing with the intensity of the situation.

Joel doesn't rush to answer the door, but your father is already there, a bag in hand, when he does.

"Joel, you okay, buddy?" Your father's voice fills the room, and Joel responds with a casual tone, "Yeah, yeah. Your daughter is in the kitchen helping me unpack some stuff. Come on in."

The air is thick with tension as your father enters, unaware of the charged atmosphere between you and Joel. You exchange a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you both navigate hiding your shared secret.

"Hey, Dad, how was work?" You ask, trying to keep your tone casual and light.

Your father hands Joel one of his bags, his eyes flicking between the two of you, a hint of suspicion in his gaze.

"Anything interesting happen today?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

Your father shrugs, his eyes still on you and Joel. "Just the usual," he says, his tone nonchalant, but his gaze lingering on the two of you.

"Well, I came over to check in… and tell you two that we should start prepping dinner soon," he says, breaking the tension. "Sweetie, why don't you help set up the table while I take over and help Joel finish up over here?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dad," you say and your father smiles and you give one more glance over at him and Joel before leaving.

As you close the front door of Joel’s home and step off the porch, you take a deep breath and sigh, your heart racing with the fear of being caught.

You quietly position yourself near the edge of the house, just out of sight, listening in on the conversation between Joel and your father.

You feel your body flooded with anxiety, knowing that you need to make sure your father doesn't discover your secret with Joel.

You don't want him to find out or jump to conclusions before you and Joel have had a chance to define your relationship.

As you listen, you can hear the regret in your father's voice, and although Joel's tone is clear, your father's is softer, more subdued.

You can feel the weight of unspoken tension in the air, a heaviness that hangs between your father and Joel.

"It's fine, man, it really is," Joel reassures your dad, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the unease that lingers.

Your father's repeated apologies have left you puzzled, his behavior out of character and leaving you wondering what's truly bothering him.

"So, what's eatin’ you?" Joel's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm yet compassionate. "It's like you have a bug up my ass since I got here. C'mon, out with it," he urges, his directness surprising you.

As you listen in on the conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're concerned for your dad, who seems to be struggling with feelings of jealousy and insecurity.

"I dunno, Joel. It's just seeing you this time around, hearing how well you've done. And with my own business not doing as well… Fuck, man. Can ya blame a guy for wondering where he went wrong?" your father admits.

Joel responds with kindness and understanding, offering to help your father financially if he needs it.

"I told you, name the amount or just say the word. I'll cut you a check right now," Joel says, his voice steady and reassuring.

You get the sense that they had a lengthy conversation at the home office earlier, and Joel had seen firsthand the state of your father's business.

Despite your own worries, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in Joel's unwavering support for your father, even in the face of his own success.

"I don't want your charity, Joel," your dad says, his voice heavy with frustration. "I want...I guess I want the past twenty years back so I could do it differently. Do it better for my daughter. You know?"

Your heart aches for your dad, for all that he's done for you, putting family first even when it's just the two of you. It's what gets him out of bed every morning.

"I understand," Joel replies, his voice soothing. "But you've done your best, and now it's time for me to do mine. Movin’ back here isn't just about hangin’ out. I'm here to support you, whether you like it or not. So quit being stubborn and let me help."

Your dad goes quiet, and you realize that you've been eavesdropping for too long. You start to move away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, but you hear your dad say something that stops you in your tracks.

"Joel, all those years ago. After her mom left and I had nothin'. We had nothin'. Remember who set me up in that little auto shop?"

Your interest is piqued. Anything to do with the past is interesting to you because your dad absolutely refuses to ever talk about it.

"It was you, Joel, all of it, and you know it. Hell, even Tommy helped us. If it wasn't for you and him, all the hard work you put in, paying off that damned loan, my daughter and I wouldn't be where we are today. And there's no way she would've gone to college."

Your dad's voice breaks off, full of emotion. And you hear Joel shifting his weight across the room.

"C'mon, we've been through this a million times. That damn loan was to get both of us started, remember? And we always said whoever paid it back first would never owe the other a fuckin’ penny. Remember?"

As you listen to your dad and Joel's conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're happy to learn about the support and friendship that exists between them, but you're also surprised that you're only hearing about it now.

"I remember," your dad groans, and you realize that it's time for you to leave them to have a private conversation.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder about Joel's past and the ways in which he's helped your family over the years. You're grateful for his generosity, but you're also a little shocked that you're only hearing about it now.

A night of many firsts for you, it seems. But your first time with Joel is obviously going to have to wait.

As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You know that Joel wants to tell your dad about your relationship, and you can see why. They used to share everything, including start-up money.

You guess that Joel wants what you want too - to have your dad as a part of the family for all of you.

But the shock of it all might cost more than you think, especially if your dad is as stubborn about you being with Joel as he is with everything else.

For now, you can only wait and see how things unfold, hoping what you have with Joel will be strong enough to weather any storm that comes your way.

"So, sweetie, did you have fun over at Joel’s?" Your dad asks, his innocent question sending a jolt of panic through you.

You choke on your food, feeling Joel's eyes on you from across the table. You quickly take a sip of water, trying to compose yourself. "Sorry... just... I... that went down the wrong pipe. Um, yeah, it was fun, a bit tiring though, kinda like a whole workout," you manage to say, your voice slightly shaky.

Unbeknownst to your dad, Joel shoots you a knowing wink, his smirk sending a thrill through you. You focus on your plate, trying to avoid any more embarrassing slip-ups.

As you try to eat, your mind races with thoughts of Joel. The simple act of 'being neighbors' suddenly feels like an impossible task. You can't shake the desire you feel for him, the hunger for his touch burning hot within you.

There's an obvious tension around the table, an aura of unspoken desire. You know there's no way you can make it through dinner without giving in to the overwhelming attraction you feel for Joel. It would take a miracle to resist the pull between you.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side as Joel's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the tension at the table.

"Sorry... gotta take this. It's Sarah," Joel said, his voice sheepish as he excused himself from the table.

You couldn't help but perk up at the mention of Sarah's name, smiling as you said, "Tell her hi for me please."

Joel easily slid his chair out and moved into the living room to answer his phone, his low voice a comforting presence as he greeted Sarah.

Your dad's suspicious gaze lingered on you for a moment, but you stayed quiet, focusing on your food. The anxiety bubbling up inside of you was making you dizzy, but you tried your best to push it aside and enjoy the meal.

As Joel talked on the phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The interruption had given you a moment to collect yourself and regain your composure.

But even as you ate, your mind was still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you felt for him was overwhelming, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the temptation.

Joel returns to the dining area, still on the phone, and hands it to you with a dramatic grumble. "Sarah wants to talk to you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in happy surprise, and you take the phone, excitedly greeting Sarah. "Hi Sarah! Miss you loads, I'm so excited you're moving back here."

Sarah squeals with delight, "You'll be there to pick me up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right? With my dad?"

"Mhm! I'll be there, Joel is borrowing my car in the meantime." You assure her, smiling as you hear her excitement. "See you then!"

You say your goodbyes and hand the phone back to Joel, who resumes his call and says goodbye to Sarah.

As you head back into the dining area, you notice your dad has been busy on his phone, looking through his emails.

The tension from earlier has dissipated, replaced with a sense of excitement for Sarah's return.

But even as you chat with your dad, your mind is still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you feel for him is overwhelming, and you can't help but steal glances at him throughout the meal.

As dinner winds down, Joel stands up, exchanging a hug and a pat on the back with your dad before turning to you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a tight squeeze.

The electricity between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you look into Joel's eyes, knowing that the night is far from over.

With a lingering touch and a whispered promise, Joel leaves you with a sense of longing and desire, eager to see what the rest of the evening holds for the two of you.

Your dad checks in on you before he retires to his room, a habit from when you were a child. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere, consumed with thoughts of Joel.

As you lie in bed, your heart races, and your body aches for his touch. You know that sleep is impossible until you're in his arms.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quietly, you slip out of bed, grabbing your phone, putting on your shoes and a sweater over your sleep shirt and shorts.

You listen at your dad's door, hearing the deep rhythm of his snoring, signaling that he's fast asleep.

With a sense of determination, you make your way to the back of the house and slip out the door, making your way up to Joel's porch.

If you were unsure about rushing into things a few hours ago, a sleepless night and the lingering ache between your legs are enough to convince you that you don't just want it - you need it.

The anticipation builds with every step, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach his door. You take a deep breath, ready to see where the night will take you.

Before you have the chance to knock, the door swings open, revealing Joel in nothing but grey sweatpants, his broad shoulders, soft belly and toned chest on full display.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of him, your body responding instantly to his presence.

"Well, hello there, darlin’" Joel says, his voice low and seductive. "Was wonderin’ when you'd show up.”

Without a word, you step forward, closing the distance between you and Joel. Your hands reach up to touch his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Joel's eyes darken with lust, and he pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. The sound of the front door slamming shut and him locking it echoes through the room as he doesn't remove his mouth from yours.

As you lose yourself in the moment, you know that tonight is the beginning of something new and exciting - a chance to escape the mundane and embrace the passion that burns between you and Joel.

Even though you're still a little tender from your earlier encounter, you're confident that you can handle him. You think. Maybe not all of him, but at least half of what you saw earlier.

The anticipation builds as Joel's hands explore your body, his touch setting your skin on fire. You whimper, your voice cracking and your body even buckling as he pulls you closer to him.

Your whole body is exploding with arousal, flushing through you all the way to where you need him most.

Your hands claw at his chest, and feeling his heart pounding hard against it, followed by the unmistakable feeling of his stiff erection probing you, you know you’re on the same page.

"I wanted it to be special," Joel says, almost sounding disappointed.

"It will be special," you counter, daringly running the flat of your palm up the front of his jeans, making him groan in a low tone.

"I meant somewhere special… not here," he reasons.

"I don't care where we do it, Joel. Bent over your couch, against the wall, on the kitchen counter - I just need you inside me," you gasp, your breath hitching with desire.

His strong arms effortlessly lift you off your feet in one swift motion, his muscles flexing as he carries you towards the bedroom.

"Then it's the bedroom," he growls, his voice low and commanding, as he strides purposefully up the stairs, his gaze locked on yours.

In this moment, you couldn't care less if anyone caught a glimpse of the two of you. All that matters is the raw desire pulsing between you and Joel.

The world fades away as you enter the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and need. You know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, giving yourself completely to him.

If not for the interruption earlier, this morning would have been the moment you surrendered to him. But now, there are no more barriers, no more distractions.

It's just you and Joel Miller, enveloped in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Joel might have envisioned a five-star hotel suite or a secluded cottage by the lake as more romantic settings. But you're right. Anywhere that's just the two of you alone will be special.

Your first time, or both of your first times, is something to be cherished. But what truly matters is the connection between you and Joel, not the location.

Seeing you standing there in nothing but the shortest sleep shorts and a sweater, Joel can't wait a moment longer. The urgency to be with you, to share this intimate moment, is overwhelming. He discards both of your clothing somewhere between the frenzy of kisses and tongue. The hours it would take to create the perfect setting elsewhere pale in comparison to the raw desire pulsing between you both.

In the bedroom that Joel wishes to be both of yours, he can't help but get a shiver. This is it, the moment you've both been waiting for. Joel, with the woman of his dreams. You, with a man who has more to offer than just his own needs.

It has to be right now. Joel needs to lay you down and fill your sweet cunt with his seed. There's an urgency between you both, like you've both got an appointment with destiny that neither of you can miss.

"We won't be interrupted this time," you whisper knowingly, and if last night's anything to go by, you both know you want more than just an hour of each other.

Joel's hands tremble as he holds himself over you, your heaving breaths swirling in the even hotter places between your bodies. Your mouths lock in deep, penetrating kisses, Joel's chest butted up against yours, both your hearts pounding out a beat that somehow he knows is gonna make another kid. This time with you. And God help him, he's gonna do right by you.

"I've waited for this… dreamed of you for so long," Joel rasps, feeling you sliding his swallowed tip over the entrance to your slick valley. Your quivering, tight cunt is pressing and rubbing against his cock, making both of your eyes open wider. Joel feels you tense up just a little, but he makes sure it's you who guides his hardness for now.

"I've waited too. I still can't believe this is actually happening," you purr, your thighs and wide hips perfectly matching Joel's own size. And he knows you're gonna need all the padding you can get once he starts fucking you like he senses you want it.

Joel's lips crash onto yours once more, your tongues dancing together as your bodies become one. You can feel him entering you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away.

"It's so big," you gasp, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Go as slow or as fast as you want, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice strained with desire. He watches your face, your expressions of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly enters you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you moan, your voice deep and loud. Joel can't help but join in, his own moans mingling with yours as he slides deeper into you.

Inch by inch, he fills you up, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both new and familiar. You can feel every inch of him, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

There's a moment of discomfort, a jolt that makes you wince, but it passes quickly, replaced by a feeling of fullness that takes your breath away.

You can feel the heat building between you and Joel, the intensity of your connection growing stronger with each passing moment. Your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels both primal and instinctual, a dance as old as time itself.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetheart," Joel groans, his voice low and husky with desire.

You can only respond by gripping his cock from the inside, shifting your hips higher as your mouth forms an 'O' shape. Your eyes are pinched shut for a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of Joel filling you up completely.

But when you open them again, you're met with Joel's gaze, his eyes dark with desire and need. You can see the tension in his muscles, the way his biceps bulge as he grips your hips.

You both want this, crave this connection that goes beyond words. You want to share your first climax together, to create something beautiful and new between you.

And if you're lucky, maybe he’ll even put a baby in your belly.

You grip hold of Joel's forearms, your smaller hands doing their best to clutch them as he watches your breasts start to bounce with each long and firm stroke in and out of your tight wet pussy.

You're lost in the moment, your body moving in perfect harmony with Joel's as he thrusts into you again and again. You can feel every inch of him, filling you up in a way that makes you feel complete.

"Give it to me, Joel," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire. You hook your ankles around his back, urging him to fuck you as hard and fast as he likes.

Joel doesn't hold back, his hips pistoning as he drives himself deeper into you. You can feel every thrust, the sensation bordering on painful but in the best way possible.

Your G-spot is a prime target at this angle, and once you get a taste of how good it feels, you're hooked. You like it hard, deep, and fast just as much as you like it soft and slow.

The bed underneath you both creaks and groans with the force of your frantic pumping and rocking. Any concerns you both might have had about making noise are long gone. It's a wild, primal sound, and Joel's grunts and growls are matched by yours with every movement of your entangled bodies.

His grip shifts from your hips to that ass of yours, kneading your soft cheeks with his fingers as he pulls you harder towards him. The slick warmth of your essence mixes with his own precome, the combination creating a friction that's both intense and overwhelming.

Joel is proud of how much you can take of him. His balls are rising with his pending climax, the tightness and warmth of your sweet pussy working its magic.

You both know this isn't a race or a test of endurance. Joel knows your prized pussy is his, and your body is his. But it's your climax that he's craving.

To see your face as he fills you with his seed.

And the new life he has ready to put inside you is as eager to make that dream come true for either of you.

Your body stiffens suddenly, and then trembles all over. You arch the small of your back, grunting words that have Joel swelling so much inside of you that he knows that you're both close.

Your eyes roll back, and you force quick breaths through your mouth. Joel's jaw is clenched and tight.

The growl from him is growing by the second as he feels his release rising.

"C'mon, baby, fuck, I'm gonna come… gonna come… tell me where darlin, fuck," Joel practically shouts, and you whimper, "Inside… inside me, Joel, fuck a baby into me."

Your gasping screams as you try to call his name fill his ears, rushing with the torrent of his pulse when he feels his own climax start to escape him.

The shudder of your hips against his and Joel's hands holding you so tight against him makes it feel like you're finally one.

Joel has never come so hard in his life, and he's never felt what he feels for you with anyone or anything. And unlike your climax when he used his mouth, this is a proper full-body orgasm for you. And for him too.

Your bodies are slick with sweat, your skin hot and flushed with desire. You're both breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling in unison.

Joel collapses onto you, his body spent and sated, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The room is filled with the sound of your combined heartbeats, a symphony of desire and satisfaction.

As you lie there, entwined with Joel, you can feel the powerful energy coursing through both of your bodies, a potent connection that leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

The waves of your shared climax begin to ebb, but the intensity of the moment lingers in the air, wrapping you both in a cocoon of pleasure and intimacy.

"Holy shit," you gasp, still shuddering from the force of your release. You can feel Joel's member continuing to flex and pulse inside you, a reminder of the raw passion that brought you both to this moment.

It's more than just an orgasm. It's a transcendent experience, a merging of souls that leaves you both feeling bound together in a way that words can't quite capture.

As you catch your breath, you look into Joel's eyes, seeing a depth of emotion and connection that takes your breath away. In this moment, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his body still intimately connected to yours. "Darlin’, you're mine now, if you'll have me," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

You can feel the aftershocks of your climax still pulsing through your body, the sensation of Joel's stiffness still flexing inside of you a constant reminder of the pleasure you've just shared.

Joel eases himself onto his side, sensing how much you want him to stay inside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both lay spent, your bodies still entwined in a tangle of limbs.

Your panting breaths mingle in the air, your smiles of near disbelief that anything so incredible could even be possible.

"Of course, Joel, I...," you begin to giggle, gasping in a quick breath as you feel his stiffness still flexing inside of you.

Joel props himself up on one elbow, caressing your cheek as he finally slides out of you. "I don't know how I know, but I just know. Do you feel it too, darlin’?" he asks, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

You can feel your whole body relaxing, the tension and excitement of your climax slowly ebbing away. "Oh, I think I'm gonna feel it for a few days," you joke, your eyes widening in amazement.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. "I love you," he blurts out, his voice filled with emotion. "I've never been good at this, with words… but fuck it, I love you, darlin'."

You make a small sound, a soft gasp that turns into a frown as your eyes mist up. You clutch your arms around his neck, as if your life depended on it, pulling him closer to you.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much, Joel."

In this moment, as you lay there in each other's arms, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You've found a love that is raw, real, and passionate, a love that will last a lifetime.

Joel's fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make love to you again and again, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with love. "I want that too, Joel," you whisper. "I want to feel you inside me, filling me up with your love."

Joel's lips crash down on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that takes your breath away. You respond eagerly, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself.

As Joel enters you again, you can feel the connection between you deepening, growing stronger with each thrust. This is more than just sex, more than just physical pleasure. This is love, pure and simple, a love that will last a lifetime.

"I love you, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with the same love and adoration.

And as you lose yourself in the moment, you know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, surrounded by his love and affection. This is where you'll stay, for the rest of your life.

Having a man like Joel Miller relieve you of your virginity is one thing, but having him tell you that he loves you is something else entirely. It completes you, fills in the missing pieces of your soul that you didn't even know were there.

It changes you, transforms you into a better version of yourself. And it changes everything between you both for the better.

There are no more questions, no more wondering what if, no more chasing. Just the two of you, and you both feel it as strong as the climax he just gave you.

As the world slowly comes back into focus, you become silently aware of just how quiet everything is. The old house, the neighborhood outside, it all feels like something you've both left behind already.

Your bodies are still entwined, your limbs tangled together as if trying to become one. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your chest, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Having Joel Miller come back to town feels like a dream come true, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex you just had. It feels like he's here for you, to keep you, to lift you up and carry you off to the new life you both have waiting for you.

Neither of you says anything for a long time, content to bask in the afterglow and the moonlight of the night. You can feel the connection between you growing stronger, a bond that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

As you lay there, completely sated and relaxed, you can't help but feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be. And it's in that moment of pure bliss that Joel's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You jump a little, startled out of your peaceful reverie. But as you turn to look at him, you see the warmth and love in his eyes, and you know that this is no dream.

"Can I get you anythin'? You want somethin'?" Joel's voice, tinged with his Southern drawl, is like music to your ears as he gazes at you with a look that feels like it's etched into your memory forever.

"I think you just gave me what I needed, cowboy," you reply, a playful glint in your eyes as you exhale a long breath, feeling the lingering effects of your passionate encounter with him.

"I may never walk straight again, but I'm good," you assure him, snuggling close as he gently wraps one of his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warmth.

After a moment of blissful silence, a realization hits you, and you let out a low groan. There are things you need to attend to after such intense intimacy.

You quickly kiss Joel, mumbling about needing to freshen up and use the bathroom, waddling slightly as you make your way. Once you're done, you eagerly return to his embrace, seeking the comfort and closeness only he can provide.

"What is it?" Joel's voice is filled with concern as he notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

Your life before the sun rises is still out there, waiting for you both. Responsibilities and realities loom on the horizon, but in this moment, all you want is to be held by Joel, to feel his presence anchoring you in a world that suddenly feels uncertain.

He takes a slow breath, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace, offering you solace and reassurance. Both of you are acutely aware of the depth of your connection, of the emotions that have been stirred between you, and the inevitable challenges that lie ahead.

As you lay entwined with Joel, the weight of the future pressing in, you find comfort in the strength of his arms, in the love and understanding that flows between you. In this moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you have each other, and that is enough to face the aftermath of it all.