#fanfictions about joel miller

[spacelatinos4life]

the fact that I’ve ALMOST read every single one of the joel miller fan fic recs on tiktok!!!! AHhhHhHhh I. NEED. MORE. PLEASE. 🙊🙈

I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU ALL TUMBLR/Ao3 WRITERS. I LOVE YOU. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE. y’all saved me fr. ♥️

[talaok]

Sunbathing

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.

Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.

a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself

"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.

He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.

"Not like this"

You smiled, "what does that even mean?"

"not out... here"

You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation

Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.

"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"

"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"

You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.

"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"

You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.

"You're incorrigible"

"And you're torturin' me darlin'"

"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"  

"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"

He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.

"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"

"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face

"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless

"no baby" you shook your head

He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest

"I'll have a swim then"

"have fun honey"

__ __ __

"darlin'?"

Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.

"yes?"

He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.

"don't ya need sunscreen?"

A soft smile pulled at your lips.

Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.

"I put it on already"

He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.

"how long ago?"

"an hour, I think"

"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"

You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.

"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"

"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"

he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his

"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone

"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"

"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him

"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.

"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"

"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"

He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.

He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-

Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.

The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.

"feels good?"

"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.

It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.

You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.

"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.

"I didn't say anything"

If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...

He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.

He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.

It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.

But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.

"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.

"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.

He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.

"so are you"

And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.

A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.

"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"

The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.

And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.

he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.

"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless

His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.

You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.

"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"

Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan

"I can take care of you if you want"

He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"

Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest

"’S too hot to have sex here baby"

His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.

"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"

His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.

"bring me back into the house"

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.

He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.

His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.

He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.

“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.

Your husband was a very gifted man.

"'m not gonna last"

He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.

"'s ok"

"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”

Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.

“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”

“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan

“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”

His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.

“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”

You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair

“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.

The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.

He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.

He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.

You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.

“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.

“Feel better now?”

You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head

“Yes I do”

And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.

He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.

He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.

His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.

So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.

“Fuck-babe-”

Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.

You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.

His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-

“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.

“Shit-baby- god!”

You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.

You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.

Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so

“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.

He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.

He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist

“You’re crazy”

He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,

“You make me”

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

[joelmillerisapunk]

↳ Hello, starshine and welcome to my lil blog. I hope you enjoy your time here. Please check the warnings before reading any of my fics they all contain 18+ content. I hope you can find your cup of tea below. This blog is a safe space for everyone. Hop on in my inbox, let's be friends my love! And a big tysm to @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics for the dividers 💚

↳ About me: she/they, very bi, in my 20's. I love you

↳ Fic Update Blog: @joelmillerisapunkfics

↳ Discord: My personal @joelmillerisapunk and group discord (pls send a message for the link) is open to anyone, love making friends 🥰

Joel Miller

my dirty little secret ~ bfd/daddy!Joel

↳ summary: Joel's tired of being hard all the fucking time while you're around and gives you a taste of your own medicine.

I'll never stop makin' you feel this good ~bfd/dom!Joel

↳ summary: After returning to your hometown, you reconnect with your childhood friend Sarah and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. As you spend time with him, you can't deny the spark between you, and soon you find yourself on a date with Joel, where things quickly heat up and the chemistry between you becomes impossible to ignore.

who's your daddy? ~ daddy!Joel

↳ summary: You're feeling down after a long week of unsuccessful dating app swipes, but Joel's "daddy effect" makes you feel desired and loved. You spend the night at his mansion, basking in his attention and care.

dirty daddy ~daddy/dbf!Joel

↳ summary: Congratulations, you've just earned yourself a daddy, albeit not for being a good girl.

crush ~ dbf!Joel

↳ summary: You find a way to have your way with your best friends dad

you got me thinkin' nonsense ~ dbf!Joel

↳ summary: Joel's asked to watch you and your parents' house while they're away, and boy, does he take watching you seriously.

without warning ~ dbf, creepy!Joel

↳ summary: You find yourself in an unexpected situation with Joel, your family's friend, and longtime acquaintance. But when the dust settles, you're left wondering if things will ever be the same between you two again. Will you be able to move past this moment, or will it forever change your relationship with Joel?

bad idea, right? ~ dad's boss!Joel

↳ summary: The thrill of sneaking around and the intense physical pleasure are difficult to forget, but the guilt and shame that accompany them can not be ignored. You find yourself questioning whether your actions were justified and whether you should risk it again.

pregame play ~ dbf/dom!joel

↳ summary: During a game day gathering at your house, one thing leads to another, and you find yourself in the bathroom with Joel Miller, one of your dads best friends. As you cross the goal line, you're with a newfound understanding of your own desires

candy hearts ~ outbreak!joel x reader

↳ summary: You find Joel the perfect Valentine's gift

unbelievable ~ mechanic!Joel

↳ summary: The 'I can fix more than your car' trope

a sweet arrangement ~ sugardaddy!Joel

↳ Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?

free use, full plate - no outbreak au

↳ summary: Joel takes out his frustration on your pussy after a long day at work.

divide my legs like a mathematician ~dbf!Joel x virgin!reader

↳ summary: Joel takes your virginity by the pool

girl next door ~ neighbor!Joel

↳ summary: Joel finds himself overwhelmed by the desire to possess something that belongs to you, leading him to indulge in a secret fantasy.

daddy please! ~ daddy!Joel

↳ summary: It's that time of day, the one where Joel edges you for as long as he can.

Subscribe ~ dbf!Joel

↳ summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans, he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.

I'm down bad, fuck it if I can't have him. ~dbf!Joel

↳ summary: In the intimate confines of Joel's home, you navigate the complexities of an open relationship, discovering the liberating power of vulnerability and desire under the watchful eye of his wife.

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz ~ Joel miller x reader

↳ Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.

Tastes like strawberries ~dom/dbf!joel

↳ Summary: after accidentally sending your dads best friend a provocative photo meant for someone else you go to "apologize" in person.

Watermelon Sugar ~ dbf!joel

↳ Summary: At the annual neighborhood barbecue, you can't ignore the sparks flying between you and Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. What starts as playful flirting leads to a secret, steamy encounter that leaves you both wanting more.

Moth to a Flame ~ Firefighter!Joel

↳ Summary: During a fire station training session, seasoned firefighter Joel Miller becomes entranced by a volunteer's poise and spirit. When you lose your cherished nanna's ring in the hustle and bustle, Joel seizes the opportunity to return it.

Howdy Honey Masterlist - Ranch hand!Joel x f!reader

↳ summary: After a tumultuous fall from your horse that leaves you with a fractured wrist and bruised ribs, you find solace in the strong arms and gentle care of Joel Miller, the new ranch hand whose rugged exterior hides a tender heart.

Sugar Daddy AU Masterlist

↳ summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy dating app, what's the worst that could happen?

Soft!Daddy Travel Diaries AU

↳ summary: you find comfort and care in the arms of an older lover, feeling safe and loved in their presence. And then he fucks you around the world.

Beach Daddy Masterlist

↳ Summary: You go on the vacation of a lifetime aboard your friend Sarah's yacht, but when you get there, you discover Sarah is engaged to your ex-boyfriend.

The only good thing about this trip is Joel. He's kind, considerate, and handsome. And you think he might be interested in you too. But he just so happens to be Sarah's dad.

[eff4freddie]

Joel's Had a Tough Day

18+ only minors DNI

Its not that you like it when he's mad, exactly. You don't want him to suffer, you want him happy...in so far as he can be. But the thing is, when he comes home all tired and groaning, when his joints are playing up and he's spent all day traipsing around in the snow on patrol, just for Tommy to put him on another shift tomorrow...when his chest rumbles with his dissatisfaction...and he gets that furrow between his brows as he scowls at the kitchen bench like it's personally offended him....

That's when he whirls around and grabs you as you try to sneak up on him, knowing that he'll sense you and hoping that he will. That's when he'll back you up against the wall, right next to the fridge and the fading wallpaper, and shuck your skirt up over your hips, pull your panties to the side and slip first one finger, then a second, into your cunt. Will hum at how wet you are, sneer a little that you want him so bad, that you would debase yourself for him. He will love that you do, just as much as he loves you, except that in this moment he's going to call you a little slut and ask you if you walk around dripping for him, and you're going to nod your head and whine when he uses the palm of his hand to rub hard circles on your clit.

'My dirty girl...' he'll say, but you won't be listening because you'll be watching his plump lips as they swell with the want he has for you, and you'll lean over to kiss him, just a little nibble, a gentle little taste, but he'll turn his cheek to you, depriving you, because he likes the way it makes you whimper.

He'll make you come, hard and fast on his hand in the kitchen, with your own hands pinned up over your head as he leans over and watches your cunt swallow his fingers. He'll snicker when your slick gathers at your thighs, slip his fingers from you to shove them into your mouth, finally lean in to kiss you around them, make you taste yourself and his desire for you at the same time.

Then he'll pull you from the wall, spank your right butt cheek a little as he tells you to scram so he can make you dinner. You'll be pushed out of the kitchen before you even realise he's moved you. You won't even have caught your breath.

[luvrxbunny]

joel would fuck you silly then force you to ride him so he can watch you struggle

this was supposed to end before the cut 😭

“c’mon, baby. you’re never gonna get me t’cum like that.” he grips your hips roughly and fucks you relentlessly for just a second. “like that. okay?” he asks and let’s go. you nod to him eagerly, trying your best to fuck him the way he wants but your brain too mushy to follow through with the action.

you lift yourself on his cock and your legs tremble as you hold yourself up before you drop back down. the shock that runs through your stomach as his dick slides right against your g-spot has you collapsing onto him. your hands wrap around his neck without a second thought, so used to him taking over and helping you. but his hands are tucked behind his head and you can barely fit your hands. “joel—“

you drag out the syllables of his name like a whine and he chuckles at you, heating up your stomach with embarrassment. “what, darlin’?” you whine at his southern drawl, at the pet name and bury your face in his chest. “i need your help. can’t- i can’t do it on my own.” you pout and look up at him, hoping your puppy dog eyes are working properly.

judging but the shuddering sigh that falls his lips we can assume they were working. his hands come to your hips and slam you onto his cock at a painful pace. his eyes are focused on where the two of you connect and little grunts are falling from his lips. “such a fuckin’ princess. can’t do anythin’ for y’self, huh?”

his words have you clenching on his cock, giving a tremble to his voice that only pushes you closer to the edge. “n-need everyone to do stuff for you, hmm? too prissy to put any work in?” you shake your head at him with a moan. “m’just too weak ri-right now, joey. don’ be mean.” your voice is a light whine in his ear as you cling to him.

“mhm. it’s okay darlin’.” his hand comes to cradle the back of your head and his ear gets close to yours. “love that you need my help so bad. can’t get off without me— can’t please yourself the way i can.” his hand grips your jaw and forces your eyes to his “you need me”

his brow furrows as he tries not to cum at the way your eyelids flutter and your hand comes around to play with your clit “i’ll always need you.” he nods at you with a low groan as you squeeze his cock.

he stops moving in you, letting you clench around him as you play with your clit. he holds your face in place and watched how it contorts with pleasure, how your expression becomes more pained and watery the more you suffocate his cock. his eyes look you up and down once, gauging how close you are and that’s what breaks the tension building in your stomach.

the second you’re squeezing around him he groans your name into your face, his head leans forward to crash your lips together as he slowly fills you with his cum. he tenses and twitches against you as he does, muttering a small sounds that resemble “my fuckin’ princess. so perfect f’me” as he thrusts into you.

[lunitawrites]

maybe Joel Miller doesn't know where Jakarta is, but he would sure as hell know where to find my clit

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. ii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter

chapter summary: Joel tries, and fails, to keep Sarah away from you, and you get to know the family across the street a little bit better. It’s a slow burn, so let the yearning begin, baby! pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 7.7k chapter warnings: some light angst, alcohol use, references to marijuana use, parental neglect. divorce mention, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues - shocker! a/n: Was absolutely floored by the love on part one. Seriously you all are the best. I hate doing chapter summaries because I don't like giving away too much info, so I'd suggest just reading this. This story might end up being a longer than six parts, because I don't want to rush anything and it's been really fun to write these relationships as they form! Let me know what you think :)

-March 25th, 2003- 

Joel cannot keep Sarah away from you. 

Unfortunately, he can’t blame her. Unlike him, she doesn’t need an excuse to show up on your doorstep after school and on the weekends to be in your company. Still, he doesn’t technically know you that well, and he imagines you didn’t intend to see her as often as you did after extending some kindness to his family for one night. 

Despite the two of you having not spoken since you helped him with the Tommy situation, Joel feels like he knows you, or is getting to know you, just from the snippets of information Sarah drops to him, which is then followed by a barrage of questions.

“Do you know she grew up in New York City? Have you ever been there?” 

“She gave me her old tennis racket. Do you think I could start taking lessons?”

“She says her brother got her front-row tickets to The Strokes last year. You like them, don’t you?”

Joel decides to give Sarah a talking to about her tendency to wander over to your house whenever she sees your car in the driveway. Perhaps you are just being friendly, and feel bad saying no each time she’s asked to come in. He tries to broach the subject with her one morning in the kitchen while she’s eating breakfast. They’re already running behind, her for school, himself for work, but neither of them are in a rush. If you’re already late, what’s an extra ten minutes?

“Take it easy, alright? She might not want company after a long day at work,” Joel leans over the countertop, hand wrapped around a mug of hot coffee, watching her shovel cereal in her mouth.  

“Dad, she said I could come over whenever,” It’s accompanied by an eye roll, which is a new thing that had started about six months back. Teenagers. Well, almost teenagers. She’s still the sweet kid he’s always known, he’s just playing with fire trying to talk to her at seven in the morning, an indent on the side of her face still fading from where she slept on a crumpled pillow. 

Joel was at least grateful that she did have occasional company on nights when he was working late. It made him feel better to know Sarah wasn’t alone.

“What do you even do over there?”

“Homework, reading….watching TV.”

“So the same thing you do here?”

Sarah thinks about it. “Well, no, because she’s teaching me to knit.”

“And what does she do while you do your homework?”

“She works too. Or makes calls.” Sarah smiles a little. “It sounds like people ask her for advice a lot. She does give good advice.”

“Better than mine?” Joel holds his hand over his heart with mock offense.

Sarah groans. “Relax, don’t get jealous…there’s just stuff I can talk to her about and not you. Girl stuff.”

“Girl stuff? What like, boys?”

“No, you wouldn’t get it.”

“I was a boy once.”

“Ew, dad, gross.”

“How is that gross?”

“Just- not everything is about boys, okay?”

Joel isn’t going to argue with that, and Sarah eventually goes back to finishing her cereal.

“Alright babygirl,” he raps his knuckles on the counter after he’s finished his coffee. “I’ve gotta load up the truck, and you better get going, or I’m gonna get an earful from Miss Davis.” He grabs his keys and his wallet, then yanks a baseball cap over his mess of hair that’s long overdue for a haircut.

“Oh, I bet she would love an excuse to talk to you,” Sarah slides out of her seat with her empty bowl and marches towards the sink to rinse it out, grabbing his empty mug on the way.

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you remember how giggly she was at parent-teacher conferences?” Sarah says. “I’ve never seen her so happy before.”

It’s Joel’s turn to roll his eyes. He’d pegged it as unusual, but never considered it was because Miss Davis was into him. He wishes Sarah isn’t so….observant. 

Over the years, Joel has basically kept his head down, doing his best to keep things together. Because of that, he feels like he’s sort of lost his ability to pick up on when women are interested in him. And it’s safe to say, in general, he’s had a pretty uneventful love life since Sarah’s mom left. 

For the most part, he got by on flings — one night stands, casual no-strings-attached arrangements that always fizzled out. Joel had never been a man who liked that sort of thing, and ultimately craved a deeper level of intimacy, companionship, but he had trouble sustaining anything more. And even when he thinks of the more serious relationships he’d had over the years, those were also never completely satisfying. 

The fact of the matter was that when you had a kid, you weren’t just looking for someone for yourself anymore. For most people, introducing their partner to their parents is always a big deal. But for Joel, it was always introducing girlfriends to Sarah. Over the last decade he’d only ever introduced her to three different women, and at that point he had usually been dating them secretly for several months before deciding that it was serious enough. It always felt like he was trying so desperately to ensure they liked each other. But he could tell that Sarah was never quite comfortable with any of them. And when they’d start asking about moving in, marriage, and babies — he’d always panic. It was reasonable for them to want those things, hell, he wanted those things. But it had to be the right person. He knew he couldn’t bring someone into his life, forever, that didn’t love Sarah like a parent should. Like he did. No one ever would, and because of that, he knows there’s a good chance it’ll just be the two of them forever.

So, even if Sarah’s teacher, as cute as she was, were to ask him out, he would never be able to go. But less for the latter reasons, and more because he knows he’d never hear the end of it from her. 

“Alright, that’s enough. I’m leaving in five minutes…with or without you.”

“Nooo!” Sarah screams in mock panic, scrambling upstairs to brush her teeth. 

Joel exits through the garage, grabbing a few extra tools from his workbench that he needs for the job today and a saw. 

When he opens the garage door, the harsh sunlight is the first thing to greet him, and then he sees you. 

You’re in your driveway across the street, barefoot and in a short, black silk robe that’s cinched at the smallest part of your waist. Next to you is a man in a suit, holding a briefcase and trying to straighten his tie. He can’t do both at the same time, though, so he pauses and turns to you, murmurs something, and you slow to help him, your fingers wrapping around the tie, tightening where it’s looped around his neck and tucking it into place, straightening his lapel before stepping away. The type of domesticity that doesn’t happen with a one-night-stand.

It makes sense, he thinks. That you’re with someone like that. It’s the world you’re in all day. And even though he’s standing in his own fucking driveway, Joel feels like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to. Or maybe, he just doesn’t want to be seeing it. 

Joel tears his eyes away, putting his stuff in the back of the truck – the toolkit, the saw, glancing over to see the man kiss you on the lips and mutter something unintelligible before getting in a shiny, blue sports car. You nod, offer an easy smile, and stoop to pick up the newspaper. The car's engine roars to life, and you cross your arms, looking after it until it peels out of the cul-de-sac.

The bashful smile you’re wearing drops instantly once it’s out of sight, and he watches you pinch the bridge of your nose, and tilt your head back to the sky.

He turns before he gets caught, and slams the back of the truck shut, which is a little ignorant in hindsight. Joel looks over his shoulder to see your attention has shifted, and you’re shielding your eyes and squinting at him. 

Great.

“Hey Joel,” you wave, your opposite hand pulling at the bottom of your robe, in a futile attempt to cover yourself. You look good, obviously, but it makes Joel feel a little guilty to make the observation because it’s clear you didn’t actually intend to be seen like this.

“Morning,” he answers. 

“Where’ve you been?” you ask, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“Busy. Work.”

“That’s no fun but…same here, I guess,” You shuffle forward hesitantly. 

Joel takes a beat to think about what he’s supposed to say in response, but doesn’t get the chance, because you speak up again.

“Hey uh, not to put you on the spot, but were you actually serious about fixing my step the other night?” you ask. 

Before he can answer, you continue. 

“It’s okay if you weren’t, but I twisted my ankle on it the other day, so I need to get it fixed before that happens to someone else. I was thinking maybe I’d just call-”

“No-”

“It’s no big deal if you can’t-”

“No,” Joel cuts you off. He had been biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to bring it up to you, not realizing that taking said time probably made him look like an asshole. “Don’t call anyone else, I can do it. How about Friday night? Will you be around?” 

“Friday?” you answer, pondering. “Yeah, that works. I have a friend from out of town coming to visit, so I’ll be home early because I’ve gotta pick her up from the airport.” 

“Alright, I’ll try to cut out early, too.”

“And also I can pay-”

“Stop it, I”ve got you, don’t worry,” he waves his hand. 

You smile at Joel. He’s sure it means nothing, but he gets some satisfaction from how sincere it is compared to the one you’d given the guy you had been escorting out of your home. 

He feels himself grinning back, and you open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by the sound of his screen door slamming. Sarah stumbles down the steps, backpack hanging off one shoulder, headphones to her walkman around her ears, holding her bright pink windbreaker in one hand and a book in the other. She looks at Joel, then you, standing in your driveway, and her face lights up as she calls your name. 

“Hey, Sarah,” you wave. 

Sarah opens her mouth to speak, and Joel knows whatever she’s going to say will start a much longer conversation that unfortunately they just don’t have the time for.

“She’s gotta get to school,” Joel tilts his head in the direction of his daughter before she can say anything. “But I’ll get that done Friday.”

“See you then!” You turn on your heel, and he looks away for a second to Sarah before glancing back in your direction, and you’re already gone, the only evidence you were there being your front door slamming shut. 

Joel waits until he and Sarah are in the car on their way to school before he speaks again. 

“She’s never mentioned a boyfriend or anything, has she?”

Sarah doesn’t even look up from her book. “No.”

Joel nods, and it’s quiet for a moment.

He hears Sarah’s book shut. “Why?” she turns to him, and she’s got her eyes narrowed, like she’s trying to figure out what the question really meant. He’s never seen her make that face before, and it’s a little terrifying, because it looks like she could see right through him.

Joel wracks his brain for a good enough excuse. “If she has people over, I don’t want you hangin’ around adults I don’t know.”

That seems to satisfy Sarah, and the skeptical look on her face disappears. If anything, she seems slightly annoyed by the comment, which is definitely preferable. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that because it’s never happened.” Sarah plays with the dials on the radio, changing the station until it lands on one playing The Chicks, her favorite group. She hums along to the song, filling in the gaps whenever the radio cuts out, and looks out the window. 

“Alright.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-March 28th, 2003-

“Oh, I wanna come!” Sarah jumps up from the couch and joins Joel in the entryway. It’s Friday evening, and he’s about to head out the door to your place.

“You’re stayin’ in tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“Well first of all, you’re grounded, in case you don’t remember.”

“You don’t even know what that means, though.”

Joel shakes his head, because she’s right. He’s never had to ground Sarah before, but when he’d gotten a call from her teacher that she had failed her last math quiz, and was close to not passing the class, he figured it was an appropriate punishment. “I’m pretty sure it means you can’t leave the house.”

“But this is barely leaving the h-”

“Second of all,” he cuts her off. “She told me earlier this week she’s got a friend visiting, so it’d be rude to intrude if that’s the case.”

Sarah groans, throws her head back, and falls onto the couch dramatically. “But I’m so bored.”

“You could study. Practice dribbling, clean your room, clean your bathroom-”

“Dad, it’s literally Friday night.”

“And?”

“All that stuff is so boring.”

Joel can’t help but chuckle. “Look, when I get back we can watch a movie. This won’t take long.”

She sits up a little, placated. “Okay, but it’s my turn to pick.”

“Deal. I’ll be home in an hour or so,” he steps out onto the porch. 

There’s a special kind of glow in Texas about an hour before the sun sets. Warm light filters behind the trees, casting the leaves and anything else it catches in a golden halo. Joel takes in the view for a moment as he walks across the street, skipping the rotten step and knocking on your front door. 

You answer it quickly. “Hey, you wanna come in?”

Joel supposes he doesn’t have to, and could just let you know he’s here, stay out on the front porch and just get the job done, but he accepts your invitation anyway.

There’s another woman sitting cross-legged on the couch, two half-full glasses of wine on your coffee table, music playing low on some speakers in the corner. The front windows are open, despite the chill of the evening, and your sheer curtains billow in the breeze. 

“Claire, this is my neighbor, Joel,” you say. “He’s helping me out with the steps. His daughter’s Sarah, the one I was telling you about. ”

“Oh, yeah.” Claire’s face lights up in recognition. “Joel. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods.

“Claire’s visiting from New York. We grew up together,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Her and I were roommates at boarding school,” Claire explains, finishing off a glass of wine. “We got into a lot of trouble together.”

“Hmmm, if I recall, it was more like you got me into trouble, but sure,” you say. 

“You were bad, if not worse, than I was.”

Joel smirks, and you turn to him, changing the subject. “She’s jetlagged, so we’re just staying in for the night.”

“But…we’re still getting drunk, obviously.”

“Oh yeah, that too,” you say flatly, although to Joel, you don’t seem drunk at all. Luckily, your friend answers his question with her next sentence.

“This one isn’t very good at keeping up, though,” Claire tilts her head in your direction, then finishes off the glass of wine in her hand.

“You sound like Vincent,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, how is Vincent?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you cross your arms and look at Joel. “She always had the biggest crush on my brother, and it was dis-gus-ting.”

“To be fair,” Claire clears her throat. “At the time, he was pretty dreamy. And if we’re being honest….he still is…too bad he’s married.”

“Divorced, actually. But still…” You wrinkle your nose. “Gross.”

“Divorced?” Claire sits up, jaw dropping. “When? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?”

You raise your hands and shake your head, like it’s too much to get into. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later. Sorry, we’re being rude,” you turn back to Joel. “Can I get you anything? Want some wine?”

“I would, but it doesn’t usually mix well with power tools,” Joel answers. “I should be good, though, I brought everything I need.”

“Great well… I’ll let you get to it, then.” you pad across the floor to return to your friend on the couch. “We’ll be in here if you need anything.”

“Sounds good,” Joel nods at you and your friend before stepping back out onto the porch.

The screen door shuts behind him, and the birds are quieting down for the night. He only has a little bit of sunlight left, but this shouldn’t take him long. Just as he is about to get started, he hears your friend’s voice, muffled, from inside the house. 

“Okay, I thought you were lying because your taste in men is usually questionable, but you’re right, he is really cute.”

“Dude,” you interject, and Joel hears a sound of impact, like a smack on the arm. “Lower your voice the fucking windows are open.” Claire starts giggling, and you continue. “You know you don’t have to say, like, every thought that comes into your head.”

He hears your friend laugh even harder, and eventually you join her. Joel shakes his head, but even after he starts working, can’t keep the grin off his face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 5th, 2003-

It has been the longest week of your life. Work had been hectic – you’d spent the last five days going to so many meetings and dinners with potential clients that you had almost no time to do your actual job. Plus, your visit from Claire had already wiped out nearly all your energy, since you had spent the whole last weekend showing her around Austin, entertaining.

Normally, on a Saturday like today, you’d do a number of things – the first of which would be to sleep the fuck in. The ideal schedule would go something like this: You’d get out of bed in the early afternoon and immediately order some kind of takeout – most likely pho, or ramen, or some other type of soup. You’d get high, eat the takeout, and then watch TV until you’re tired enough to go back to bed in the early evening. If you’re feeling motivated at all, you might change into a fresh pair of pajamas before you crash again. It would be the ultimate lazy day, and you had desperately wanted it.

However, the past version of yourself had made plans to play tennis in the morning with some friends, and then check out a new breakfast place in the city. Sometimes you hated how optimistic she was about your ability to wake up before 10 a.m. While you weren’t excited to play tennis, you were excited that there was, at some point, going to be food involved. 

So you dragged your ass out of bed, rifled through a box of clothing in your garage (one that you still had yet to unpack) to find a tennis skirt and visor, and then got in your car to go play all before 8 a.m. Then, you’d had your ass handed to you by your friends on the court. It was a little humbling to realize that you weren’t very good at tennis anymore. The last time you’d seriously played was when you were still in school, and you’d originally started because your father had wanted you to be involved in an extracurricular activity. According to him at the time, anything involving the arts – music, dance, drama – didn’t count. You had challenged this idea, and it had escalated to become one of the top ten worst fights you’d ever had with him. After that, you had learned that it was better to just do as you were told. 

You’d joined the tennis team, and started to pick up on how intrigued your father was by the trophies and ribbons you’d bring home when you did well. He started to ask you questions when he saw them, pat you on the head and say things like ‘that’s my girl’. Regardless of whether or not you liked playing, you had finally found a way to earn his attention. So, you got better. One time, he even came to your school to watch one of your matches. Of course, when you lost that one, it all kind of crumbled. But you still stuck to the sport since that’s what all your friends were doing, even if it didn't get you what you wanted. 

On the drive home from your morning out, belly full of breakfast and ready for a nap, thinking of your family brings about a terrifying realization. 

You look at your phone. Shit.

April 5th. 

Immediately, you dial a number on your cell. You’re aware of the dangers of talking while driving but you know if you don’t make this call, you’ll never hear the end of it. The line only rings twice before it’s picked up.

“Hello?” 

“Vincenzo!” you say with your best – but probably horrible – attempt at an Italian accent. 

“Well, well, well….if it isn’t the estranged daughter…” the familiar timbre of your brother's voice answers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

You roll your eyes. “Well first of all, fuck off…” We're off to a great start. “...and second of all…Happy Birthday.”

You hear your brother’s chuckle on the other end of the line, a noise that you’d been on the wrong side of –  laughing at you, not with you – more than once, but your heart aches a little at the sound of it now. I miss you, you wish you could say, but you keep it to yourself. 

“Thanks, I’m surprised you remembered,” he says, lightly.

“I’ve never forgotten.”

“There was that one year-”

“Oh my god, I was like twelve.”

“You were fourteen.”

“Okay, well, sorry…It’s been over ten years and it hasn’t happened since.”

“It feels like you’ve forgotten more than once, but that might just be because it’s pretty much the only time you ever call me these days,” Vincent says, and if you were with him, in person, you’d be able to tell by the look in his eyes whether or not he was joking. But over a cell, you’re not sure at all. 

“That’s not true,” you say, turning your car into your neighborhood. “But I mean, the phone does work both ways.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you catch something flippant in his tone. 

“Do you want this to be a nice conversation or are you gonna be an asshole?” you ask, maybe a little too matter-of-factly, but at least you can determine whether or not it’ll be a waste of your time to try and be cordial. If he’s in a bad mood, you know it’s pointless.

“Relax,” he says, and you hear a hint of the teenage boy you once knew. “You’re always so ready to argue with me, I’m joking.”

“Very funny,” you say, and try to be nice about it, because deep down, you know Vincent is right. You don’t talk to your brother enough to argue with him when you do speak. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “So what are you doing on your big day? Anything special?”

“Nothing really special, I worked out, had lunch with a friend, and I think I’m having dinner with Elizabeth tonight.”

“Oh…really? Elizabeth?” At the mention of his soon-to-be ex-wife – or maybe current ex-wife? You’re not sure – you’re surprised.

“Yeah she and I are uh….talking still, I guess. For Ethan, mostly, but…I don’t know…the divorce isn’t finalized, and I think now that I’m seeing a therapist and shit, maybe we can work something out. We’ll see.”

“And do you want to work something out?”

“I mean, she’s only the love of my life so yeah, it’d be great.”

“I think so, too. How is Ethan, by the way?”

“Oh he’s great,” you hear your brother’s smile over the phone. “Just a big ball of energy, and so fucking smart. He told me he misses you the other day.”

Your heart lurches at the mention of your sweet, five-year-old nephew. “You’ll have to tell him I said hi, and that I love him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” he answers. “You know, next weekend I’m having a proper birthday party.  We’re all going to the Hamptons. I could fly you out here, you could tell him in person.”

“I can’t, I got shit to do,” you answer a little too quickly, turning the car into your cul-de-sac.

“What uh, your little corporate gig keeping you busy?”

There’s a subtle dig in there, little. 

“Maybe.”

“I’m telling you, all I have to do is phone a friend, and we’ll find you something here that’ll pay a thousand times better and won’t have you working weekends.”

“I don’t work weekends,” you say, pulling into your driveway.  “And I’m not interested.”

“You like making yourself miserable, don’t you?”

“Vinny,” you say, exasperated, putting your car in park. “I’m happy here.”

“In Texas? I don’t believe it,” he says. “And you know, at this point, you’ve proven whatever you wanted to dad. After everything you’ve done, he probably respects you. Like, you did it. You cut yourself off, you made a name for yourself, you don’t need us anymore. Congratulations, amazing. I get it. But you should come home now.”

“Vincent,” you repeat yourself. “I’m not going back. You know what it was like for me. For you.”

“You’re my fucking family too, you know? You can’t just let him control every decision you make,” he says, and he’s not quite yelling at you, but he is sounding a lot more stern than he was before. “And by the way, it wasn’t so bad. You and I always got along.”

“Even if I move back, things will never be like they were.”

“You don’t know that.” he says it with such a deep sadness in his voice that you want to take back every cruel thing you’d ever said to him – not just from today, from forever. And then he speaks again. “You know, you used to be so sweet when we were kids….I don’t know what happened.”

I do, you think. “I had to look out for myself.”

Before he can respond, you change the subject. “Anyways, you should move out here instead,” it’s only halfway a joke.

“I’m not leaving New York.”

“Well, I’m not leaving Austin.”

“Well…” he says, clicks his tongue. “Then I guess things’ll just stay this way.” 

“I guess so.”

You wish you could offer more. But he has never understood. The silence on the other line is so loud, your ears are ringing.

“Look, I just pulled in my driveway, I gotta get going.”

“Yeah.”

“But have a nice day, okay?” you’ve gotta turn this conversation around because it went so far off the rails. “Tell Elizabeth I say hi, and I hope you do work things out with her because you know I think she’s great. And give Ethan a kiss for me.”

“I know, and I will,” you can see him closing his eyes, fingers pinching between his eyebrows.

“I love you.” 

“Yeah…okay,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you, and it’s a punch to the gut. As usual, you weren’t able to say the right thing. Tears start pricking the back of your eyes, guilt twisting deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Goodbye,” in one swift movement, you end the call and get out of the car, slamming the door shut. You’re sad now, but it’s only a matter of time before you become angry, which is always easier to deal with, so you just gotta suck it up until it passes.

Trying not to be upset is such a high priority that you don’t hear your name being called right away, and when you turn around, it’s too late.

“Hey!” Sarah Miller is skidding to a stop in front of you, wearing boots that look a size too small for her feet, dressed in athletic clothes with her hair pulled back. “My dad says I’m not grounded anymore so I can-” she falters when she sees your face. “Are you okay?” she asks. 

Clearing your throat, you fix your expression and try to shake away the lingering disappointment like dirt off a kitchen rug. “Yeah I’m fine,” you lie. “So does that mean you passed math?”

Since that night you let her stay when she was locked out, you’d seen quite a bit of Sarah. It was a little unconventional, and you probably needed to find friends in the community that were more age appropriate, but you enjoyed her company. She would hang out and do homework at your house while she waited for her dad to get home from work. You had always valued your independence, and told yourself you preferred to be on your own, but whenever she left, your house always felt a little emptier than you remembered. Maybe you needed to get a fish or something, since Martini’s appearances were few and far between. 

“Not yet, but I did get an A on my last test. I hate to say it but my dad was right…studying actually helps.”

“Yeah, that tends to be true,” you say, relieved at how easy the smile comes, and you glance over your shoulder to see Joel standing at the edge of his driveway with his hands on his hips. He looks fucking good, and you’re almost sort of mad about it, or it’s hopefully just the irritation kicking in after the conversation with your brother. 

Does Joel know? He has to. It’s like having whatever the male version of a siren is living across the street from you – working with his hands, being a doting father, and mowing the lawn shirtless when it’s hot out. And apparently this was a record-breakingly hot spring, because you’d seen that more than once. Not that you minded, though it only made you want a closer look. Years ago, you probably would’ve scoffed at what sounded like a suburban mom’s wet dream, but actually experiencing it, you felt differently. There was just something about him. 

You give Joel a wave, and he waves back, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he’s trying to decide if he wants to come over and talk. As usual, he seems like he’s got somewhere to be, but he’s too polite to tell you to fuck off. 

“How have you been? I’ve hardly seen you,” Sarah says. “Did you play tennis today?” she pokes at the racket that’s hung over your shoulder. “Were you serious about teachin’ me to play this summer?”

It’s hard not to be amused at the barrage of requests. You admire her ability to be so enthusiastic, so open, something that most people are unable to do, but for her, is effortless. She’s older than your nephew, but you get the same kind of relief from interacting with both of them. The kids are alright. At least, some of them are. 

“Of course,” you answer, and notice that Joel is slowly and hesitantly making his way up your driveway. It’s upsetting that everytime you run into him, you conveniently look like shit – like last Tuesday when you’d just rolled out of bed and were still in your robe. Or right now, after spending the whole morning chasing after balls on a clay court, scuffed knees and hair slick with sweat. But you suppose that’s sort of what neighbors are for.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you ask Joel. 

“It’s goin’,” you take him in as he gets closer, notice the way the arms of his t-shirt are just a little too tight because of his biceps, and feel like you need to take a cold shower to wash yourself of this morning. “Babygirl, we should probably get going.”

He calls his daughter babygirl? There’s no way he was being serious, that it isn’t some ironic joke, or part of an act. You always assumed that was just something you saw in movies.

“Because I did so well on my test my dad is takin’ me on a hike,” Sarah says, and then her face lights up. “Wait….you should come with us! Dad, can she come?” Sarah whirls around to face her father.

Joel looks down at Sarah, and then up at you, and then at Sarah again. “I mean, that’s fine, but…she might have other things going on.” 

It’s hard to tell if he’s trying to give you an out, or if he’s hinting that you shouldn’t come. And you probably normally wouldn’t want to go, but the alternative is moping around your house and thinking of all the things you could’ve said differently to your brother to ensure the conversation would have gone better than it did. You’re always desperate for a second chance to do things over, and do them right. 

You look between the two of them, back and forth. “I mean I would totally, I just…don’t want to interrupt a father-daughter activity-”

“You aren’t,” Sarah says so quickly that Joel looks offended. “I couldn’t leave the house this week so we’ve been spending too much time together.”

Joel frowns. “That’s rude.”

“What?” she says. “It’s true.”

Joel sighs. “She’s right, though. You wouldn’t be interruptin’.”

“Please?” Sarah begs, and you realize you can’t say no even if you want to. You wonder how Joel was even able to ground her for a week, looking in those big, innocent eyes. 

“Yeah, just…uh, could I put my stuff inside and maybe change?” you ask, gesturing towards the house. 

Joel nods, and Sarah rocks back and forth on her heels. “Yes, yes! Take as long as you need.”

“I’ll be fast,” you assure her, and duck inside. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halfway into the hike with Sarah and Joel, and you’ve decided you’re out of shape. You try to tell yourself there could be another reason you are so out of breath – you already worked out once today while playing tennis. But that doesn’t seem like a good enough excuse. Of course, you’re trying to play it cool, because you’re not about to embarrass yourself. Sarah is entertaining you with all kinds of talk about school, and soccer, and sleepaway camp she gets to go to for two weeks once school's out. And you suppose the pain you’re in right now is also  welcome distraction from thinking about Vincent. 

However, you can’t dip away from the group to rest for a second, because Joel is already trailing behind, and he’d catch on. However, his distance – several paces back from where you and Sarah walk – is not because he’s out of shape. On the contrary, he seems to be putting almost no effort into the steep climb. He’s on his own, head on a swivel, kind of like a brooding security guard, and you wonder if he feels left out. 

You steal a glance over your shoulder to take him in, shrouded by the verdant foliage. He looks at home in this environment, sun-kissed and rugged, a finger hooked behind the strap of a leather bag he carries over one shoulder, his gait measured. Aloof, but there’s a quiet confidence to him that draws you in, causes your stare to linger just a touch too long, so when he turns his head straight, his eyes catch yours. You focus back on the trail ahead. 

He hasn’t said much since you’ve started hiking, or in the car, even. Most men are easy to read, but so far, Joel has kind of stumped you. There were times, during the night that you’d helped him bail his brother Tommy out of jail, that you had thought maybe he was- no. He’d been pretty tense in every other interaction you had, so you still couldn’t decide if he had been flirting with you.

And he was older than you, you were pretty sure. Not so old that it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to be interested, but enough that, depending on the type of person he was, might see you as a little too young for him. And he had a kid, responsibilities. 

You were a-single woman with a high-powered career, one cat and a fish on the way. You slept in on the weekends, refused to learn to cook for one, and got violently stoned on your back porch a minimum of three times a week. In suburban Texas, most of the women your age were long since settled, and you were an outlier. It was fair to imagine that Joel probably didn’t see any real promising future when he looked your way…. or maybe he was more of a one-night stand kind of guy, and didn’t care about that at all. This was not necessarily information you needed – but you wanted it anyway.

Not feeling like an outsider would be one upside of moving back to New York – you could be exactly yourself, and still blend right in. It was one of the parts you missed most, besides Vincent. Your heart sinks, and you realize that the hill you’ve been climbing has flattened out, and so you’re able to think clearly again, which is why you’re thinking of your brother. 

Sarah has pulled away, and is wandering towards a clearing. Your eyes are on her form, bounding up ahead on the pathway, the sunlight peeking through the leaves dancing on her skin, when your foot lands on a loose rock, and slips out from beneath you. 

Please, God, n- You don’t even get the chance to plead yourself out of humiliation, because there’s a steady hand on your hip and your back collides with a broad chest. 

“Gotcha,” Joel’s voice is right in your ear — when did he get that close?  

He’s solid, strong, and for the shortest, sweetest moment, you’re overwhelmed by him – get notes of his bar soap (pine, cedar, mint)  mixed with whatever laundry detergent he used, and just the faintest bit of - Fuck. In one swift movement, he brings you upright like you’d never slipped at all, then pulls back. The skin on your hip smarts even after his hand drops away.

“You alright?” Joel steps beside you, watching Sarah, who stands with her hands on her hips, her back turned to you both.

“Yeah,” you nod. He looks back over at you. “Come on,’ he tilts his head towards his daughter, and you walk beside him to where she’s standing.

The whole hike you’d been so occupied with bullshit. Trying not to think about your brother. Trying not to act too out of breath. Trying to not let Joel catch you staring, although you’d already failed at that. But now, you wish you wouldn’t have been in your head, because what you’d come to see made worrying about all that seem stupid.

Stretched out in front of you was a wide creek with moss-colored water that flowed down over layered slabs of rock, and crashed into the waterfall’s churning basin. The sun hits the mist in just the right light, and casts a series of rainbows midair, which move and shift as you turn your head to study the lush, tree-lined shore across the river. 

You’re standing with one hand on your hip, and out of the corner of your eye Sarah shuffles back a few steps to stand beside you, looping her arm through yours, her cheek on your shoulder while you both enjoy the view. 

“I’m glad you got to see this,” she says, and you can just make it out over the sound of the falls. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s beautiful.”

Joel’s hands land on Sarah’s shoulders as he steps close behind you both. She straightens, leans back against him until he wraps his forearm across the front of her in an easy embrace, and she grabs for his wrist with both of her hands, tucking them beneath her chin. A pang of familiar grief stirs inside you at the sight, and you turn away, back towards the view.

“This is the only time of year it’s worth seeing,'' Joel says to you. “It dries up in the summer.” 

“It’s still pretty in the summer,” Sarah pipes up.

“Not as pretty.”

“Can you get me the water?” she asks. Joel grunts an affirmation and a moment later you hear the sound of a zipper.

When you’ve had a considerable amount of time to contemplate life while looking at the water swirling across the granite, you turn to find Sarah sitting on a rock, struggling to peel an orange, and dropping each tiny piece of skin she can get off into Joel’s begrudgingly outstretched hand.

You use the opportunity to stretch your calves against a nearby tree.

“Have you hiked before?” Sarah asks.

“Here and there,” you say. “But not often.”

“Why not?”

“Well this is basically a workout. I don’t like working out, I’m pretty unathletic.”

You’re surprised when that draws a smile from Joel.

“But you play tennis.”

You shrug. “Eh, kinda.”

“Me and my dad go hiking a lot.”

“That’s sweet,” your eyes flicker from hers to Joel’s, because they are both staring at you, and you’re pretty sure, though it’s hard to tell from this distance, that their eyes are the identical shade of caramel. Sarah finishes peeling her orange and Joel pockets the scraps of skin. She eats a slice before offering you both your own, and you step closer to accept it.

Sarah’s taking her last bite of orange when Joel speaks up. 

“Should we head back?”

Sarah turns to take one last look. It’s mid afternoon, the slant of light from the sun as intense as it can be, and you squint when it reflects back off the water and into your eyes. 

“Yeah, we can,” Sarah decides, and it’s clear that Joel would have stayed there for as long as she wanted. It wasn’t up to him. 

The hike back isn’t nearly as difficult. It’s all downhill, and Joel leads. Sarah stays behind with you, and clings to your arm while she teaches you how to navigate the trail without slipping. Back at the trailhead is one steep step that drops off into a puddle of stagnant water. 

Joel jumps down first, and turns to offer his hand to Sarah, who takes it and leaps lightly, landing on two feet on the other side. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting, but it’s not for Joel to offer you his hand to you as well. But he does.

“Careful,” he murmurs. And of course, you could’ve easily done this yourself, with no help. It’s a two foot drop and an inch of water. But you accept it anyways, putting some of your weight against his hand as you hop down, noticing how he doesn’t waver.

By the time you’re long since settled in the car, pulling into Joel’s driveway, you can feel sleep tugging down your eyelids. A steaming shower and a pair of pajama pants is imminent, and it’s like your body knows. Surely, you will still probably feel guilty about your brother, but you’re convinced that you won’t lose sleep over it, which you consider a win.

Sarah, who insisted that you both sit in the back together on the way home – leaving Joel in the front alone – gives you a quick hug after you’ve gotten out of the car, and then plucks the car keys from her father.

“Sorry, I drank a lot of water and I have to pee!” she says, before jogging up the walkway and unlocking her front door. 

Joel lets out an exasperated sigh, but turns back look at you with startling warmth. 

“Thanks for having me, I really needed that,” you tell him, and you’re not sure why you feel compelled to be honest with him, but continue on. “My brother and I got into it on the phone this morning, so if I didn’t go I probably would’ve spent all afternoon moping in bed.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” you say, quickly, brushing it off. “Siblings, you know?”

“Yeah,” he nods, but you can tell he isn’t convinced. “I know.”

“How’s Tommy, by the way?” you ask. “Staying out of trouble, I hope?”

“He is,” Joel answers. “We actually have a big project we might be about to book. Pays well, and will keep us employed for the next year.”

“Oh that’s exciting,” you nod. “So what I’m hearing  is…if my step rots again, you wouldn’t have time to come fix it?”

“No,” Joel chuckles again, and you’re dizzy after hearing it. “I’d make time.”

You take a deep breath. “Good to know,” you shuffle a few steps backwards. “I better get going, though.” He doesn’t answer right away, and just as you’re turning to walk across the street, Joel calls out to you again.

“Hey,” and you pause, facing him again. “I wanted to ask you if…” he hesitates, blinks and shakes his head once before continuing. “If Sarah is coming over too much. If you want, I can tell her to cool it.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask. “I don’t mind at all. She’s great company, really.”

“You sure you’re not just sayin’ that to be nice?”

You sniff, look at the ground, then back up to him. “I’m not actually very nice.”

He studies you. “I’m not sure I believe that.” 

“You hardly know me,” you shrug, and his eyebrows pinch together very briefly before his expression neutralizes. “I’m just saying….if I didn’t like having her around, you would know.”

He bobs his head slowly, and you turn back around to walk to your house, glancing at him from over your shoulder. 

“I’ll see you around.”

- - - - - - - - - -

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg @yeehawbitchs @ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done @melancholicmelanin @reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer @superflymaterial @mikkorantanev @zbeez-outlet (i'm sorry if i missed anyone, i didn't tag anyone that didn't explicitly ask!).

part iii

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS - J.M

Warnings: pregnancy, main character death, violence, blood, grief

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: you loved Joel more than you had ever loved anyone else and when you were finally ready to start the rest of your lives together, the world collapsed

Wordcount: 4.1k

The alarm woke the two of you up that morning but he ignored it, tightening his arms around you as the two of you lay there in his bed.

"Alarm," the young girl called out, hand pounding on the door.

You didn't want to be taken out of the dream you had even though you knew that the morning sickness would wake you up any second.

You hadn't mentioned it to Joel yet but you'd checked and you were going to surprise him before he left for work for his birthday. You were 7weeks along and couldn't be happier.

You were snapped out of your thoughts of your future by Joel's groan as he pulled you tighter against him, "Five more minutes," he said, his voice gruff in your ear.

As you turned over and looked at your husband of two years, you thought of everything you'd done and been through. You were 5 years his junior and had met five years ago at a work event. You were a secretary at a work event he wa doing construction for and after spending the whole night staring at you, tommy had finally convinced him to ask you out.

Now as you lay here in his bed, looking up into his eyes, you knew that he had made the best decision. "Happy birthday handsome," you said and he pulled you closer to him, arms tightening around your waist.

He smirked, eyes opening to look at you as he spoke in his deep morning voice, “Do i get my present now?” He questioned, hand slipping down to pull on the bottom of his oversized shirt you were wearing.

You chuckled, pressing a hand against his chest as you pushed him away before sitting up in your share bed, “We have to make breakfast, Ill meet you downstairs,” you said, getting out of bed.

After getting changed, you walked down the stairs to the kitchen where you saw Sarah as she stood at the stove, cooking some eggs. As you walked past, you pressed a kiss to the girls temple as you went to grab a glass of water from the fridge.

Sarah had only been 7 when you started dating her dad and she love you from the second that you two met. She had never had a mother like any of the other girls at school had had but you were more than enough.

“You want any help lovey?” You asked as you saw the girl cooking the eggs.

Sarahs nose scrunched up in disgust, she loved your cooking but eggs was in no way your forte, “I’m good,” she said, trying to be polite as you sat down at the counter.

You looked over at the stairs when you heard a noise, watching as Joel walked into the room. He walked over to his daughter, pressing a kiss to her forehead before reaching for the coffee machine.

Sarah asked where the pancake mix was and her fathers face scrunched up in the same way Sarahs had earlier, they were more similar than they thought they were, "I don't like pancakes," he said.

"I know, but me and mum do," Sarah said, grinning at you. You would never get over her calling you that because it showed just how accepted you were in the little family. She turned to the fridge, pouring her father a glass of orange juice, "It's Vitamin C,"

He shook his head in disgust, sliding the juice over the counter. You smiled, picking it up and taking a sip as he drank his coffee. You picked the glass up as you both walked over to the table, watching as Sarah placed their food on the table.

"How old are you again?" Sarah asked teasingly.

"36," he said, taking a sip from his coffee. He had missed out on so much in his life but the only thing he wanted now was to grow old with his daughter and his wife, ready to live the rest of their lives together.

He was snapped out of his daydream when he heard the door open and and they all turned to him as he walked in, "Hey, still alive you old fucker," he said, grabbing a cup of coffee fron the pot, "You look cheery, you get some last night?"

"Course he did," Sarah said and Joel choked on his food, looking up at his 12 year old daughter, thinking about what she had just insinuated.

"Sarah!' The two adults exclaimed, looking over at her as Tommy laughed at the idea.

“At this rate, you two will have some evil mini mes running all over this house,” Tommy joked and Joel laughed at the concept.

Your face scrunched up as you looked over at him, brows furrowed at the idea that he didn’t want that with you, “Would that be so bad Joel?” You questioned and he looked at you, mimicking the same confused look.

He shrugs, looking at you with the ghost of a smirk on his lips, “No, I don’t think it would,’ he said.

The words sent a wave of relief through you and though you didnt want to mention it now, you were. You had the tests upstairs and the first scan that you had gotten the other day at the hospital to prove it. You smiled at him at the idea and his face sank, almost like he was going through all five stages of grief.

“Honey,” he said, his voice quiet as he looked at you, your smile growing every second that you looked at his shocked face, “Are you serious?”

The room was silent as they waited for your answer. Sarah had a huge grin on her face as she looked at you, the excitement of having a baby brother or sister bubbling up inside of her. Tommys eyes were wide as he looked over at the table, realising that he spoiled the surprise - you had mentioned it to him the other day as he had driven you to the hospital.

“Surprise,” you said, your voice quiet as you waited to gauge the reaction from the others, “I had this whole thing prepared for tonight Joel-“

You started to speak and he cut you off, pulling you into a kiss - he didn’t normally kiss you that much in front of Sarah so the act alone made it clear how happy he was. When he pulled away, his hands came up to cup your cheeks and he looked into your eyes, tears welling up in his.

“We’re going to have a baby?” He questioned again, trying to keep his emotion in as he looked at you. Sarahs mother had never stuck around but he knew that you would, he knew that you were everything he was looking for in a person.

You nodded your head and he kissed you again, one hand going down to rest on your stomach, “7 weeks,” you stated when you pulled away from the kiss.

Joel looked around the room, a huge smile on his face as he looked at his family, “We’re going to have a baby!” He exclaimed, repeating the sentiment as he looked at the others.

When he noticed Sarah had started crying, his face sunk as he wondered if she was unhappy about it, even though she was the one who had been begging for a little sibling since you two got married, “What’s wrong baby?” He asked and Sarah sniffled.

“I’m so happy,” she said, laughing in between the tears. He pressed a kiss against her forehead with a smile.

“Me too Sarah, me too,” he said, looking back at you. Nobody in the room had ever seen Joel miller smile that much before but right now, it looked like he would never stop.

“Congratulations you two, guess I get to be the fun uncle for another kiddo,” he said, a smile on his face.

The rest of the breakfast went smoothly, all of them talking about how exciting it was going to be, what they were going to name the baby, how they were going to paint the nursery but all good things must come to an end. Joel left for the day to pull a double shift at the construction yard and you drove to work.

You were laying on the sofa, fast asleep, when you heard a noise coming from outside. When you finally fully woke up, you checked the time and noticed the sound of helicopters flying overhead.

You started to panic and pulled a jacket on as you rushed to Sarah’s room, you bag slung on your back. When you noicted that she wasnt in bed, you rushed outside, screaming her name.

That’s when you saw Joel’s truck rushing down the street - he had gone out to pick tommy up from jail after an incident - and when the car parked, he jumped outside.

“Where’s Sarah?” He asked, looked around, a wrench in his hand as he walked over.

Just as he said that, she ran out of the Adlers house, the girl running into your arms as you tried to protect her from whatever it was that Joel was scared of.

Nana Adler started crawling out of the house and anyone could tell that the three adults were scared and unsure what to do. You didnt even know what was going on but with Tommy standing there, a shotgun in his hand, you knew that something was wrong.

"What are we doing Joel?" Tommy asked, his voice loud as he pointed the shotgun at the old lady. She seemed sick, her face morphing into something horrid as she scrambled towards them.

When she got closer, Joel did the only thing he could think about doing to protect his family, he hit her over the head. He had to kill the elderly woman because if he didnt, then there was any chance that she could kill his family.

You gasped, pulling Sarah’s face into your body in an attempt to make sure that she didn’t have to watch her elderly neighbour being bludgeoned to death by Joel.

"He killed her," Sarah whispered into your chest and Joel came over to the two girls, knowing that you both deserved answers.

When he looked into your eyes, he could see that you were scared and confused and he felt bad that this was happening to you now. You two were just about to start your family and now you were being flung head first into an apocalypse that you had no idea about.

When his daughter looked up at him, he noticed the look of pure fear in her eyes - she had never looked at him like that before and he could feel the guilt sinking in his stomach "It's not just the Adlers but we're gonna be brave,"

You nodded and he grabbed your hand, checking on the both of you quickly. You watched Sarah get into the car and he pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You okay baby girl?” He asked and you nodded, “We’re going to make it through this, all of us,”

You got into the car, sitting down next to Sarah when you noticed that the other two Adlers were rushing towards the car - they were infected, "Get your seatbelt on!" Joel yelled out and the two girls did.

"I'm scared," Sarah said as she looked up at you. You didnt know how to reassure the girl, you didnt even know what was going on. All you could think about was your family, your baby. You looked down at the bag that you had carried out; inside was the present for Joel, the sonogram.

“What’s going on boys?” You asked, trying to hide the shake in your voice as you looked out of the window as they sped through the streets.

Tommy shook his head in the front from where they were sitting, "They're saying its a virus. Some sort of parasite," he explained, looking back at them.

Sarah let out a shaky sigh, "Are we sick?" She questioned, eyes wide as she looked over at you.

You took her hand in yours, "Course not," you said as you tried to comfort her on a subject that you knew nothing about. You could all be sick for all that you knew but you had to make sure she wasnt too worried

"How do you know? How do you know we're not sick?" She questioned an you could hear the fear in her voice.

The girl had been so excited this morning, she had picked out baby names that she wanted and was preparing for the rest of her life as a big sister. Now she was preparing to potentially die.

Joel turned back and looked at the two of you, "They're saying it people in the city, that's why they got the highway blocked off," he explained and you nodded, unsure what that meant.

He hated seeing his daughter like that, so upset and scared, but he knew that you would look after her and that you were going to be okay. He didnt know how this morning he had recieved the greatest news in his life and now he was sitting here, planning on runnning away to save his family.

As they drove through the streets, Tommy looked in horror at a house on fire in a field, "God. That's Jimmy's place," he said, almost like he finally realised the extent of all of it. It was surreal as they heard the sirens on the streets and prepared for the end of the world as they knew it.

"The Adlers would take nana into the city," Sarah said almost absentmindedly suddenly. You nodded, listening to Joel reassure her that that must be how they got As they drove onto the highway, Joel swore as he looked at all of the other trucks lining up in an attempt to escape the hell, "Everyone had the same fucking idea," Tommy said.

He was just as scared as you and Joel were. This was his family too, but he had to put on a brave face.

"Take the field, we'll pick it up on the west side," you suggested, and Tommy nodded, the car jolting back and forth as they drove across the grass.

When they were driving through, Tommy stopped aburpty when he noticed that the entire military was lining the highway that they were trying to get to, "The fucking army," Tommy said.

"Keep moving, head north," Joel said and you could hear the panic in his voice as he starts to yell, explaining that there was nowhere else that they could go, "Tommy, come on,"

He would do anything for his family, especially now, "Where do we go?" You questioned, not knowing what they were going to do now. You werent even write sure what really was going on but also, nobody else seemed to know either.

"We go as far as we go, I don't know, Mexico," he said, shaking his head as he tried to save the family that he had spent so long building, "Go to the river, get across. Pick up the highway and then we're out,"

As he looked back at you and Sarah, you whispering to the girl to try to keep her calm, one hadn on her shoulder and one on your stomach, he wanted to cry. He wanted to break down and destroy whoever had done this to his family.

"Maybe its everywhere, maybe there's nowhere to go," Sarah said, trying to stay strong for everyone else but you could tell that her voice was breaking.

"We will be fine sweetheart," you said, reaching down and grabbing the girls hand, “You’re a strong girl and you’re going to make it, we all are,”

You were absolutely terrified for your family, for your baby but you couldn’t let it show for Sarahs sake. You had never had a good family life and now that you had this one, you couldn’t bear to lose it.

They started to drive through town, the four of them horrified ad they looked at the crowds of people. Some people were running for safety and some were chewing on other people.

Tommys eyes were wide as he stared into the distance, "I can't drive through them," he said, his hand shaking on the wheel.

"Keep going," Joel yelled out, all of his protective instincts bubbling up. There was no part of Joel that would ever let anything happen his family, to his brother, to his daughter, his wife and his unborn child and he knew that he would kill people to protect them if he had to.

All of a sudden, a large crowd started to emerge in the distance and they realised that there was something going on over there, probably more infected people. There was no way they'd make it through.

"Back!" Joel exclaimed, his voice breaking slightly "Tommy go faster, mow the fuck over them,

"Joel!" You yelled out and he turned to look in the front window when he noticed that a plane was crashing down and was going to land in their direction - it was going to kill them all.

Your head was a blurry for a second as you crashed and when you woke up, you were upside down and Joel was reaching through the car to grab you. You winced as he pulled you out.

He pulled you into his lap, whispering your name under his breath as he checked to make sure you were alright. His heart was pounding as he looked over at the other side of the car where Sarah and Tommy were standing.

For a second there, when you weren't responding, his entire life flashed before him and he couldn't bare to think about what life without you would even look like. He might as well be dead if you were.

“Dad? Are you and mom okay?” The girl called out from the other side of the car, holding onto her uncle.

"She's fine, you're fine, aren't you baby," he asked, hands coming up to her face and she nodded, looking in his eyes like it would be the last time.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head, "My ankle hurts, but I'll be fine," you said and he helped you stand.

Just as you were about to make your way around to check on Sarah and tommy, another car crashed into theirs, blocking the way around, "Head to the River, we'll find a way," Tommy said, knowing there was no way round.

“Let’s go babygirl,” Joel said, wrapping his arm around her as they started running. When they made it into an alleyway, they started running at the sight of one of the infected behind them. They started running as fast as they could, legs carrying them into an abandoned field at the back.

Just as you thought that you weren't going to make it through, the infected man was shot and you and Joel both looked over to see a man from the State police standing in the field.

Joel wrapped his arm round your waist, your ankle had gotten worse from all that running and he could hear you wincing as he walked over to the man.

“Help us, my wife, she’s hurt her ankle,” he said and the man was hesitating, hand on his gun, “She’s pregnant, please,”

You both stood there for a second, not knowing what the man was going to do or say. You looked up at Joel, looking into his deep brown eyes for wht you wondered may be the last time.

The man picked up his radio, “we have two civilians, a man and his injured wife, she’s pregnant,” the man said.

They couldn’t hear what the man said though the radio after that but when he received his orders, he held up his gun and you both knew that this was not going to end well.

“Please, we’re not sick, we’re not sick,” he repeated almost begging the man and when he heard the bullet fire, he did the only thing that he could think of doing, he turned his body around to shied you but it was too late.

When he opened his eyes, he looked up at the man who had the gun still pointed at you. The man never shot again and Joel flinched when he heard a gunshot. When he looked at him, the man was falling to the ground and Tommy was standing there with the shotgun in his hand.

The first thing he heard was Sarah’s scream and then he turned to see you laying there. He crawled over to you, tears in his eyes as he looked at the bullet wounds all in your stomach and chest. There was no way you were going to make it.

“Babygirl, babygirl, come on,” he said and when he tried to move you, you screamed. He pulled you into his lap, tears in his eyes as he held his hand to your abdomen in an attempt to save you somehow.

“Joel, Joel, it hurts,” you said through gritted teeth. It was like someone was pulling at you, peeling your skin off completley. You don’t know how you could bear it any longer so you closed your eyes.

“Look at me honey, don’t do this to me,” he said, listening to your sobs. He turned back, tears in his eyes as he looked at Tommy and Sarah, the latter of which had tears streaming down her cheeks, “Don’t let her see, dont let her look,”

He pressed his hand against your wounds desperately no matter how loud you screamed. He was watching his future slip away from him in those last seconds and you closed your eyes, sobs getting quieter.

“Stay with me baby, come on, come on,” he repeated over and over again and you opened your eyes, looking into his eyes.

“It hurts Joel,” you whispered, “The baby Joel, my baby,”

You let out a scream as he pressed his jacket to your stomach in any attempt to save you. He wasnt going to sit idlely and wait, “We’re going to make it darling, just stay with me,”

“I’m cold Joel,” you said, a chuckle escaping you as you closed your eyes, “Its so cliche, I’m cold baby,”

He let the tears flowed down his cheeks and your eyes fluttered open, focusing on him. You thought back to the first time you looked into his deep brown eyes from across the room and wished you could go back there. As the world slipped away, his hand in yours, you let his face ground you.

He let out a guttural scream as he pulled you into his arms, feeling your body go limo against him. Joel couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He had failed at the only thing he had ever promised you to do. He had failed to look after you.

Even tommy closed his eyes as he watched his brother lose the only woman he ever really loved. He couldn’t watch, he could listen to the sobs from his niece and the screams from his brother as he tried to hold onto any piece of you that he could.

Joels eyes opened when he heard something flutter to the ground and he looked at a crumpled up sonogram that had fallen from your pocket. The pad of his thumb wiped the blood off of it, your blood, as he looked at what could have been his future.

He had lost almost everything in one moment, his unborn child, his wife and the only woman he had ever truly loved. His hand came down to your stomach, hands stained with blood now as he kept trying.

He let out one more visceral scream as he held your body to his. He wasn’t ready to let go and he never would.

[readersdailycrisis]

Writers only want one thing and it's fucking disgusting (so simple):

A Comment for their work ❤️

[romanarose]

About a Girl Masterlist

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Summary: Joel is a simple man. He goes to work, he takes care of his kindergarten age daughter, he tries to make sure Tommy doesn't die and occasionally Tess comes over. He works on Frank and Bill's farm with Tommy, Tess, and another coworker, Max. For his birthday, Tommy drags Joel out to a local grunge band's show, music he knows Joel hates. Joel is surprised to find Tess's girlfriends best friend, a girl they all call Blue because of the blue in her hair, has caught his attention.

What he doesn't know is she is trans. When he finds out, he's very confused, not because he judges her, but because he's not sure what it means for him. Does it make him gay? What does trans even mean? He's very confused. Still, despite all the confusion Joel has an open mind and he just knows that he has a lot of feelings for you and he wants to try. Joel goes on a journey of learning, not only what your trans identity means but also how to take care of himself, how to set boundaries, and learning he doesn't need carry the whole world on his shoulders.

Joel loves country, is as yeehaw as they come. Blue loves grunge, and looking as edgy as she can get by as a school teacher. Can you and Joel make it all work with the one thing that bonds them both together; flannel?

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

Themes: Found family, Tommy shitheadery (I love him), bi Aunt Tess, Joel recovering from emotional abuse, tired Joel trying to take care of everyone, grunge v country, lots of flannel, y'allternative (blending Joel's country life and reader's grunge life), Sarah Ellie friendship, Bill and Frank as the elder gays, Joel knows nothing about queerness and transness but by golly's he's trying, single dad Joel, good uncle Tommy, good uncle but also not very responsible and maybe has an addiction problem Tommy? lets find out!

Chapter 1: Joel is tired. Chapter 2: You help Joel relax Chapter 3: Blue comes out Chapter 4: Joel tries his best to stay open Chapter 5: Blue and Joel make it official Chapter 6: Blue gets to bond with Sarah Chapter 7: Blue meets Kayla and Joel is honest. Chapter 8: Joel is there for Blue, always. Chapter 9: blue sets up her future with Joel Chapter 10: Happy endings

Made for Oscar Isaac/Pedro Pascal Pride Event

How to keep up with the series:

Follow About a girl series on tumblr

follow @romana-updates and turn on notifications

Ask to be tagged!

[thereaperisabitch]

My Joel Miller fics recs from 2023

I’ve planned to do this since before Christmas, but life caught me up, so that's why I'm here rushing to finishing this before the reveillon party. 2023 was a very tough year for me, in different ways, and this stories were my refuge and my balm during good times and bad times, so this was the way I found to honor all these incredible authors who made my life better this year.

To the authors: you guys are the most amazing and sweet people ever, I know that I'm not active as other readers and I don't reblog your works enough - and I'm sorry for that, I wish I could shower you with the praises you guys deserve.

Hope this will make up for all the comments and reblogs that I haven't give.

And to the readers who find this recs: most of these stories are series and most of them has age gap and are Joel Miller x fem/afab!reader. I won't put warnings from each fic because it would be a too long post, so click the link and read the author's warnings in each before you start to read - I'm afraid to get into fandoms because of people who give shit to authors, so please, don't be this kind of person.

Someday I'll make a part 2 of other stories that caught me up this year.

That all being said, thank you @morning-star-joy @hier--soir @frannyzooey @joelsgreys @fuckyeahdindjarin @the-ginger-hedge-witch @eupheme @bageldaddy @covetyou @theidiotwhowritesthings @atinylittlepain @imtryingmybeskar @ezrasbirdie

A stranger's heart without a home (complete)

Summary: A one night stand that later becomes a secret affair – or masterpiece of literature – all the poets and great writers ran so Doni could walk.

This is my favorite fic of all times, forever! I read and re-read it so much that I can’t even count how many times I’ve had read it, it’s my 100% comfort fic. Enemies to lovers is my favorite trope, and the way @morning-star-joy developed here it’s perfection in the most pure way.

It’s Joel on his Jackson era and it’s a perfect character development from both sides, how to people who prefer to deal things on their own learn to rely on someone else.

I also highly recommend But you know the killer doesn't understand, which it’s on-going Joel x fem! Reader also post-Outbreak in Jackson, but it’s different and addicting as ASHWAH.

A Lover’s Pinch (on-going)

Summary: a one night stand (do I have a pattern?) at the bar turns to be so much more when you discover that your fling it’s your professor at university.

The professor x student trope might be cliché for some, and by the very brief summary that I wrote above may sound like Pretty Little Liars, but @hier--soir works with those elements and creates something beyond amazing, it is like contemplate a work of art at a museum, but much better.

I’m very much obsessed with this story, that’s why I reread it with more and more frequency.

Can’t even mention the references in this story – it’s truly enriching, it makes all better, truly.

Plus: the playlist it’s amazing!!!!

Short Days, Long Nights (on-going)

Summary: Remnants of a band travelers, you and Joel find a cabin in the woods - what would be the problem with staying?

I’m crazy about this one, it’s my true love and it had 3 or 4 chapters when I started and now we’re heading to chapter 17, blessed be @frannyzooey for sustaining us with this preciosity for so long.

I'm a sucker for when there's one character (Joel) reluctant for his feelings, and if the story was only about this, I would be perfectly glad too with, too. BUT Kelli it's a genius, an amazing writer, giving me all that I didn't even knew I wanted.

It's fluff, with smut from the highest quality - with some tense moments, wich turns everything more addicting.

A Safe Haven (on-going)

Summary: Joel's quickly drawn to the vet of Jackson - even knowing she's married. Will this affair thrive? Or there's more underneath of the vet's story? (Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry for this lame summary, but I refuse to copy from your masterlist and I’m also rushing to finishing this rec today).

I was bought on the infidelity trope and the drama that comes with it. It would still be a nice story, but @joelsgreys it’s so much fucking talented that she wrote the most beautiful thing ever!

It has tooth roting fluff, drenching panties smut and heartstopping angst! All perfectly written and balanced.

I also love how Ellie it's also a crucial character for the couple's history and I really adore how she's attached to Peach.

Special mention to Fall Into Temptation and Strawberry, that lived rent free in my mind since I've read those.

Seams (on-going)

Summary: Joel pays visit to Jackson's seamstress after a trouble with his too-tight jeans – and it's only heaven from that on, won't say more.

Now I call @fuckyeahdindjarin ✨Queen of the Build Up✨ and that's because the way Cee builds up the sexual tension between characters it's undescribable.

Cee is such an excellent writer, not only in Seams but on other stories too she's gives a rich description of details that makes the reading flow better, it's like knowing you looking at gem stone.

Breakout (complete)

Summary: Boxer!Joel AU when he has to train a fuckboy who happens to date a sweet little thing.

Well I'm a fan from @the-ginger-hedge-witch for a while, she wrote one of the best Javier Peña fics ever (which turned into a book and that's fucking A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!!) and other amazing stories, but this one got me hooked so bad.

Clearly I have a pattern because I LOVE when there is an obstacle for the characters to stay together, in this case, a relationship (I already spoiled that her boyfriend sucks, but I don't think it's spoils the story development) and Ren just atests she's a wonderful writer - now book writer, blessed be her 🙏🏻

And the idea of Joel using his fists it's already apealing, am I right?

I also recommend Friendly Fire, that I love just for knowing that in this, Ren envisioned an Aries character for reader - but also the premise of the story is great, too.

In The Woods Somewhere (complete)

Summary: living alone in a cabin at the apocalypse gets less dull when a teenager appears with a handsome injured man.

I've read this since a while, but it marked me. @eupheme created such tenderness between the characters - they know he and Ellie can't stay, which makes the affair even more apealling.

I’ll know It when I see it (on-going)

Summary: Joel as a porn star in its golden era who meets Lucky, a rising star in porn - chemestry goes beyond the cameras.

@bageldaddy deserves all the shout out forever because this here it's golden. They're both are porn stars and I could be hot just for this, but of course there's feelings involved - and the way they struggle to fight against these it's what makes this story even more perfect. Shout out to the one shot Sundown, as well, it’s completely wonderful.

Something wretched about this (complete)

Summary: Joel Miller it's a self appointed pharmacist in the QZ, and fucks you when you don't have how to pay for your father's medicine

Whoring yourself for meds sounds bad? In this story it's hot af! It's filthy, each chapter explores different sexual practices and it's THE. BEST. THING. IN. THE. WORLD!!!

@covetyou it's the most blessed being for writing a perfection like this, seriously. I loved every single chapter of this, loved Joel being an asshole and a slut. I can't tell enough how much joy this story has brought me. And lo it's better than Santa, because she provides christmas gifts for the nice and naughty, with Freeze-thaw (smut with fluff) and Baubles (smut with FILTH) - I can't die before I try the balldo, I didn't even knew this, didn't think that this could be possible - but happily it is, and this one shot it's perfect in every aspect.

Take Care of You (on-going)

Summary: Joel it's a sugar daddy in this AU and appears in your life to make all better 👀 He doesn't charges for the sexual part of the arrangement, but he's irresistible - so what will you do?

The ideia of a sugar daddy it's extremely appealing to me because that's all I wanted, you know? Some rich hot guy telling me I don't need to work and paying everything to me - that's living! Okay jk, but I started reading this when things caught up badly at work, so it was a sweet refuge.

@theidiotwhowritesthings it's the perfect writer! It's the perfect slow burn that makes you thirst for more and more!

Apothecary (complete)

Summary: Summary: Joel falls in love with the "witch" from Jackson and it has its perks and struggles.

I LOVE Practical Magic, it's one of my favorites witch movies so to read something inspired on that it's great -but @atinylittlepain it's such a wonderful, talented, amazing writer - so we were all blessed with this masterpiece.

It has fluff, angst, smut - stupid people being scared about what they don't understand and etc. It's very sweet, Joel also doesn't understands about her, but can't help being drawn. And Ellie it's a natural, their relationship here, how they grow to be a family ... it's utterly sweet. Special mention to Only Lovers Left Alive (another movie that I LOVE),  The Heyloft and the masterpiece Down to The Ankles (it's perfection and it's inspired in Bones and All, other film that I truly love).

Come home (on-going)

Summary: when you've lost everything and everyone, you reach to Jackson - and meets a ruggedly handsome who you can't help being drawn to.

I've read this for a while, as well, but I still think about this story often. It's a slow burn - which I love (in case you haven't noticed from the stories listed above) - and it's so sweet, the blossom of a friendship that turns to more, their relationship with Ellie ... It's been a while since it was uptaded and I hope @imtryingmybeskar it's okay, because this story it's lovely and I really wish to see and ending for them.

Catalyst

I'm gonna just summarize that it's a threesome with Joel and Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, that's it - if that ain't reason enough for you to read, idk man.

I didn't even knew that I wanted it, that I needed it - until I read it. I find threesomes hot af, but I don't tend to enjoy when it's with characters that I love too deeply - don't ask me why - but in THIS ONE, GOD FUCKING DAAAAAMN!

It has filth, of course, but there's also fluff - which I find inevitable when it's about Frankie. In the chapter Here, especially, @ezrasbirdie builds perfectly of the struggles that I imagine for a threeway relationship, reading it was sad, hot and lovely.

Hope all the links work, 'cause I don't have time to check now 🙃

Sorry if my comments felt weird, if I forgot to mention something, as I've said above, I intend to make a part 2 of recs someday soon (hopefully).

I wish everyone a happy new year 🎆🥂🎇

[talaok]

Hiiiii

I was thinking about pedro and reader watching football game and them being on different teams and fight about who's the best 😂😭

What do you think?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: i think that's the cutest idea ever. also, my knowledge of American football is below zero so forgive me if none of this makes sense, I tried to be as vague as possible lmao 

A second ago you were cuddled on the couch, his hand playing with your hair and your head resting on his chest, but before you knew it the game had started and you were both sitting with your elbows on your knees, watching every single movement that occurred on the other side of the screen like your lives depended on it.

"Oh c'mon" Pedro groaned as your team scored another touchdown

"Yeah!" you basically jumped from the couch, grinning like an idiot "Look at that!" you pointed to the TV "That's how professionals play baby"

"Oh please" he rolled his eyes, "it's just luck"

"Luck?" you scoffed "You might wanna look at the score again, cause that doesn't look like luck to me"

"Yeah well maybe you need glasses"

You laughed sitting back down on the couch "It's your quarterback who needs glasses"

"Whatever" he shook his head, returning his clearly frustrated gaze to the game.

A few more minutes of tapping your leg anxiously against the floor ensured, before you were running your hand down the length of your face, trying to understand if you'd just seen that right, and Pedro wasn't even trying to conceal his enthusiasm.

"Professionals huh?" he mocked "You just committed a foul in your own end zone"

"Oh shut up" you groaned, sinking back into the couch "You can party all you want, we're still winning"

"Not for long" he smirked, sitting back down 

"You keep dreaming buddy"

And that's how the next one and a half hours continued, until-

And they have done it! 31 to 20! the fans are going crazy!

Only once you were finished with your little dance party around the couch did you go back to your boyfriend.

"so how does it feel?" you teased 

"how does what feel like?" he sighed, raising his head to look at you

"Loosing" you grinned

He threw his head back onto the headrest, looking almost comically desperate.

You smiled as you climbed onto his lap, trying to lighten his mood a little bit.

His hands went to the back of your legs as his eyes found yours again.

"I really thought we were gonna win" he explained, 

"I'm sorry baby" you pouted, giving him a quick kiss

"no you're not" he saw right through you

"no I'm not" you laughed

[gutsby]

Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

[agentmarcuspike]

"Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" part 2

cw: dbf!joel miller x f!reader, pre-outbreak, kinda... blackmailing? ig, no sarah here wc: 1.3k a/n: idek what this is, i'm just practicing, and hopefully someone likes it. working on my smut, don't feel quite confident enough with it yet. maybe in the next one...?

part 1 part 3 part 4

it’s been a week since your neighbor, Joel Miller, found you naked in his bed. you’ve been avoiding leaving the house since then, worried he'll decide to report you for breaking and entering. out of sight, out of mind, you hope, as if grown man Miller never developed a sense of object permanence.

admitting to yourself that not only being caught, but being caught fucking someone in your dad's friend's bed, had made you more excited than embarrassed was not gonna happen any time soon. although you had to acknowledge that the picture of Joel with your lacy panties in his big calloused hand, and the memory of his deep voice telling the younger man to get out of his house, had you chasing a high later that night, alone in your own bed, that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"earth to daughter, anyone home...?" your dad's hand waving in front of your face brings you back to the present. he's finishing a bagel, trying to cram a bunch of folders and loose papers into his work bag, which he only half-way manages without crumpling all of them. "you okay?"

he sends you a quick worried glance, and you nod as you swallow your coffee. "yeah, fine!" you give him a half-hearted smile, and he smiles back, grimacing as he takes a sip of his own now cold coffee.

you snicker at his usual urgency, and take another sip of your own, giggling into the mug. a knock on the door, and your dad yells for them to come in. the coffee doesn't make it all the way down your throat, and threatens to come back up when you see Mr. Miller in your kitchen.

"hey there, neighbor!" your dad says with a cheer in his voice, shaking Joel's hand. "to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Joel nods, quickly glancing at you, before looking back at your dad. "nothing good, i'm afraid." he places his hands on his hips, a confidence to his stance despite the news he's bringing. "my washing machine is broken, and i could use an extra pair of hands carrying it out in the garden to make room for the new one."

for a second you rest your gaze on his biceps, his t-shirt clinging to them for dear life, and you imagine how they would strain even more while he grunts and sweats to move the washing machine.

"i'm about to head out, i'm afraid," you hear your dad apologize, quickly moving your eyes to study the crumbs left on your plate before any of them can catch your keen eye. "but i'm sure my dutiful daughter will be more than happy to show off her strength. you've been working out a lot lotely, honey, haven't you?" your head snaps back up, as you look between the men, both looking at you.

you have. you've been doing a lot of pilates and yoga on the lawn, and you've caught your neighbor hungry stare from across the fence.

"please, no..." you mutter to yourself.

"what was that?" your dad asks, looking at you sternly, as if he didn't hear exactly what you said. "if you're gonna be living here rent free, the least you can do is give our neighbor a hand."

something playful, almost provocative in Joel's eyes renders you speechless long enough for him to say "great," and give your dad an appreciative nod.

"great!" your dad repeats, patting Joel's shoulder. "see you later, kid!" he waves at you, and disappears out the door.

you're alone with Joel.

"so..."

not a word has been spoken since Joel turned on his heel in your kitchen, expecting you to follow him, which you did. the silence feels awkward, but you don't want to break it, worried he'll bring up the other night, as you walk behind him through his house, and into his downstairs laundry room.

"grab that side," he says, pointing to the the back of the machine. it's a tight squeeze, but you manage to fit yourself between the wall and the washer, pushing it towards him.

"on three." he counts, and you lift together. it's almost too heavy, but even if you wanted to you couldn't have said anything, as you both grunt and pant your way out to his back garden.

Joel stops, and nods at you to put it down. you do. your arms feel long, and you lean forwards on your knees, catching your breath. Joel takes a second to breathe and wipe his brow before he breaks the silence.

"too early for a drink?" you look at him, still out of breath, and shake your head. not in this situation, you think to yourself.

"sit," he nods towards the sofa on the back porch and disappears back into the house again. you do as you're told.

Joel reappears with two beer bottles, extending his arm for you to grab one. he sits down next to you, a little too close for comfort. you can smell the sweat from the visible perspiration stains in the armpits of his grey shirt. you both take a couple of sips in silence, before you decide to break it.

"i can wash your sheets..." it's the only thing you can think of to make up for your sins, peeling at the label of the bottle as you say it.

to your surprise, he laughs.

you look at him, and he takes a big gulp of his beer.

"nah, that's okay," he snickers. "i kinda like it, to be honest"

Joel licks his lips before he looks at you, again with the mischievous grin of his. he gives you a quick up-and-down, sending butterflies to several parts of your body, and you swallow harshly.

"you--" you start, as he places a hand on your bare thigh, grin fading, but the mischief still very much present. he gives your leg a soft squeeze.

"i mean you can wash them if it clears your conscience... but it would be a disservice. i'd have to ask you to come mess them up again."

Joel's hand is moving up and down your leg, dangerously close to the hem of your pyjamas shorts you hadn't had time to change out of. you take a deep breath, and clutch your thighs a little tighter together around the beer bottle resting between them.

"you won't tell my dad?" you ask, knowing damn well that he wouldn't tolerate you breaking into your neighbor's house to get laid, and you'd have to find another place to stay.

Joel chuckles. "no, i won't tell your dad," he assures you. "as long as you don't bring that bonehead over again." that makes you smile. "s'he really your type? wouldn't have thought you'd be into guys like that." he takes a good sip of his beer, looking out at the neat-tended garden.

"excuse me?" you say accusatory. "what you mean, guys like that? he was really nice!" Joel looks back at you again, brows raised, before looking away again, shaking his head lightly. "whatever you say, hon." then under his breath: "if you can't see it, m'not gonna say it."

you roll your eyes, and let your legs relax a little. while lifting your bottle to your lips again, Joel's fingertips press a little harder into your inner thigh. you let them.

"so are we good, Miller? seeing as i nearly broke my back helping you move that thing?" you nod towards the washing machine, looking very out of place on the otherwise neat lawn. you had always been able to see parts of his backyard from your childhood bedroom window, and you'd seen him mow the lawn shirtless more than once, shamefully thirsting from afar.

"we're good..." his eyes meet yours, the tease in them ever present.

"for now."

[underrailed]

Does anyone understand the lunacy derived from Joseph Quinn and Pedro Pascal starring in something together? The two people that I have never not once been normal about