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absurdthirst · 16 days ago

Text

The Last Piece of Us {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Lingerie, birthday sex, riding, mentions of birth control, cannon violence, broken legs, car accidents, end of the world, regret, anger, harsh words, reunions, oral sex (female receiving),

Comments: When the world ends that night, Joel has to make a choice between you and his daughter. You encouraged him to save Sarah and twenty years later, he finds out that you survived that night when he sees you in Jackson.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"Happy birthday, baby." You coo down the phone, twirling the cord around your finger.

"Thank you." Joel flusters as he holds his cell phone in his hand while he watches Tommy carry some lumber across the yard of the home they are working on.

"I have your present waiting for when you come over on your lunch break." You promise and Joel smirks, "yeah?" His voice is rougher, hoping that his present is you in that little silk number he barely managed to not rip off of you the first time you wore it.

"Yeah...and sex. Birthday sex." You say bluntly and he chuckles at how eager you are. He's just as eager. Life is perfect. The only thing that could make it better is if you move in with him. He wants to ask Sarah about you moving in and see if she is upset with him before he takes the next step. "I'll be there for lunch." He promises just as Tommy spins around and calls out for him to work. "Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you get the day off, asshole." Joel snorts, "I gotta go baby. See you soon." He promises and hangs up, shoving his Nokia back in his pocket to help his brother because he heads over to your place for his birthday lunch.

Only an hour remains until Joel should be here and you bite your lip as you look around. You had gotten him a cake, a small one from the grocery store, but knowing him - he hadn’t arranged for anything else. Joel doesn’t like to fuss over himself, but he deserves it. You’ve never met a man who does so much, works so hard, to provide a solid and stable life for his daughter. You had met him at the grocery store two years ago. He had been slightly panicked in the pads and tampons aisle, unsure of what to get his daughter. You had taken mercy on him and it had turned into flirting every time you ran into each other, and eventually you asked him out for a drink. Now, you are head over heels for Joel Miller and you hope that soon enough, you will take your relationship to the next level.

Joel takes his break after Tommy notices that distracted, lovesick look on his face. “Get the fuck out of here. Me and the guys will handle it.” He promises and Joel doesn’t look back as he grabs the keys to his truck and drives over to your place. He rings the doorbell and you open the door, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, baby.” You coo and kiss his lips. He grins, pushing you into your hallway and he kicks the door closed as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into Joel’s mouth, tangling your fingers into his head and breathing him in while he kisses you. He smells like sunshine and sweat. Like man. You have no problem with your hardworking, blue collar boyfriend. You love it actually. His hands are rough, but he’s gentle with you unless you don’t want him to be.

He groans into your mouth, loving how you respond and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through the pretty sundress you’re wearing. “You look good enough to eat.” He groans, kissing along your jaw as he backs you against the wall to push his hardening cock against your hip.

“You’re just horny.” You tease, eyes closing and you have to admit you are just as horny. You’ve been imagining him inside you all day. Especially when you put on these panties. “Fuck, baby. Tell me you can take a full lunch.” You beg, reaching for his belt between your bodies.

He nods, "Tommy has it under control. Wanna celebrate my birthday with my lady." He murmurs, kissing along your neck and his hands slide under your dress to squeeze your ass again, feeling the lace. "Fuck, I'm a lucky bastard." He groans against your neck. He knows he should sit down and have lunch with you before having sex but he's been thinking about you all damn day.

“You want to fuck me against the wall or go to the bed?” You hum, pushing on his chest slightly so you can drag him to your bed. “It’s your birthday, so I figured I would ride your cock and let you lay back and relax.”

"You are spoiling me." He grunts, letting you take his hand after he says, "bed." You escort him up the stairs to your bedroom, squealing when he smacks your ass playfully, and he groans at the flash of your panties when you are a few steps ahead of him. When you stumble into your room, he grabs the hem of your dress and drags it up your body. "Happy fucking birthday to me." He hisses, dark eyes taking in your lingerie.

You giggle, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching in to cup his cock. “I could say the same thing.” You coo, squeezing him gently. “Fuck, I’m always amazed at how fucking thick you are.” You moan. “Perfect to fill me up.” He groans and reaches for the collar of his shirt to pull it off, batting your hand away to shimmy out of his jeans and boxer briefs. “Are you going to wear the panties or fuck me.” He demands, making you grin. “They’re crotchless.”

"Jesus Christ." He hisses, "you're trying to kill me. I won't make my next birthday." He groans, stumbling as he kicks his jeans aside and reaches for you, his fingers cupping your cunt through the lace and he hisses at the slick he discovers.

“Thirty-“ you break off a moan when his fingers brush your clit and he starts to rub. “Thirty-six is old enough.” You joke, holding onto his shoulders and trying to steer him to the bed while his hand is still between your thighs. “I can claim I fucked you to death.”

"Put it on my headstone." He chuckles, shifting onto the bed after reluctantly pulling his hand away from your pussy. "Death by orgasm...not a bad way to go." He smirks at you as you straddle his stomach and he can feel how wet you are. His hands slide up your sides until he's cupping your tits, admiring the lace that is covering them.

“Happy Birthday, old man.” You grin as you start grinding down on his cock, feeling how much he loves that as his fingers dig into your skin and he squeezes. Leaning down to kiss him lets your lips catch on the head and you start to push your hips back, letting him break you open as your tongue slides against his.

His hands let go of your tits, sliding down to grab your hips as you sink down onto him with a moan into his mouth. He responds with his own and his cock twitches as you engulf him in your wet, hot heat. “Fuckkk.” He finally pants against your mouth as you take all of him.

You smirk, eyes glazed over from how good it feels. “Fuck is right.” You pant, kissing him again and again as you enjoy the pinch of him filling you and pausing so you can adjust. He’s thick and a lot to take so you give yourself a minute before you start riding him.

Joel slides his hands behind your back, wanting to unclasp your bra, and he drags the straps down your arms to expose your tits to his hungry gaze. He tosses the bra across the room and his hands find your tits again, squeezing and pinching your nipples as you slowly start to move on top of him.

“Fuck Joel.” You moan softly, always loving the way he touches you. Joel hadn’t dated a lot before you, being super protective of having people come in and out of Sarah, his daughter’s, life. You respect it, but it gave a greedy, hungry edge to his touch, like he had been so starved for it for so long he was going to gorge himself.

He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock, loving the way you moan his name. “God, baby. You feel so fucking good.” He rasps, trying to not thrust up into you. He went so many years after Helen left without touching anyone, only focusing on raising Sarah, so when you came along, he was greedy for your body, for your touch.

You agree with a hum, rocking on him a little faster. Greedy yourself for his cock inside you. “Fuck.” You moan softly. “I love you.” You promise. “So much.”

"Love you too." He promises, dark eyes watching you as you move on top of him. The best fucking birthday present he could ask for. He hisses when your walls squeeze him, "so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. So fucking perfect." He grunts, thrusting up into you.

You chuckle breathlessly and grind down into his lap more. Feeling his cock twitch and pulse inside you. “Tomorrow- tomorrow do you want to go out?” You ask, leaning down and kissing him again. “Have Tommy watch Sarah?”

He nods, knowing that Sarah will want to spend time with Tommy. "Yes. Wanna - let me take you out for dinner. Wanna treat my lady." He declares, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass and he shifts to sit up, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can surge forward to kiss you.

You had been thinking about treating him, but you can squabble over that later. Now you kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and desperately needing more from him as you start to bounce on his cock.

He grunts as you start to move faster on top of him, his hands caressing your back while your tongue tangles with his. His hands slide down to grab your hips, rocking you on top of him a little faster. Your whimpers against his chin tell him you're close and he is desperate to hold off from cumming inside of you. He wants to feel you squeeze his cock.

“Love you, love you, love you.” You chant, over and over again. Feeling your entire body light up with the purest pleasure. Making you gasp and whine as you rocket towards a familiar peak with Joel. “Baby- I’m gonna- cum- I’m gonna - gonna cum!” You squeal when he hits something perfect inside you and your vision goes white, body locking up in pleasure.

Joel hisses when you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum, and he groans your name. He grabs your ass, lifting you and shifting to lay you down on the bed so he can work you through your orgasm and thrust to his own. He leans down to kiss along your neck, "fuck. I love you, baby. Shit, gonna - I'm gonna cum. You're too fucking tight." He groans, thrusting a half dozen more times before he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whimper, stroking his back as he cums. Filling you up in a way that makes your eyes roll back in bliss. You’re on the pill, so you can enjoy yourself like this. You took them every morning with the antibiotic for the root canal you had just had done. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur, kissing his jaw.

Joel turns his head to kiss you properly, his tongue lazily sliding against yours as he savors this time with you before he has to go back to work. He’s having dinner with Sarah later, relaxing and he can’t wait for the days when you are curled up beside him as you watch TV with them. “I love you.” Joel murmurs, “best birthday ever.” He grins and nudges his nose against yours until he pulls out when he starts to go soft.

“You know this wasn’t your actual birthday present, right?” You laugh, watching him flop onto his back and spread his legs wide to let his cock dry. “I got you a present.” He perks up at that, his face softening. “You did?” He sounds almost surprised but you nod and climb off the bed to get the gift you had wrapped for him.

Joel takes the wrapped gift from you after you come to sit down beside him and he takes it from you, eyes wide at the beautifully wrapped gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything baby.” He tuts even as he rips off the paper and opens the box. “Oh shit!” He exclaims, eyes widening even more at the sight of the beautiful knife inside. “It’s engraved.” You tell him, pointing to the handle and he traces your initials and his on the handle. “It’s beautiful. I- I love it.” He assures you, leaning in to kiss you.

You are so fucking happy he likes the knife, you had worried that it was too personal. Then you wondered if it wasn’t personal enough. “You always complain you never have a good knife when you need one.” You remind him. “This one can clip onto your belt and you can carry it around anytime.” He’s a working man, handy as fuck and you want him to be able to use something you get for him instead of it just collecting dust.

“It’s so perfect. Just like you.” Joel murmurs, reaching up to caress your cheek, “I’m sorry I can’t go out for dinner tonight. I promised Sarah to spend tonight together and I want to make sure she knows I have time for her. She’s been so good about us and I just - I want to make sure she knows that she’s important. You’re important too.” He adds, “my girls.”

“Baby, I completely understand.” You promise, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. “Your daughter will always and should always come first. We can go out tomorrow. Tonight is for you and Sarah.” You never want the little girl to feel like you are trying to take her dad away or trying to become her mother. You’ve met her a few times, and you want to ease into a friendship with her.

“Jesus Christ, I’m a lucky bastard.” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. “Now…you said something about lunch?” He raises his eyebrows, his stomach rumbling and you giggle, nodding as you shift off of the bed and he carefully puts his knife back in the box. You clean up and redress just as Joel’s phone rings. He scrambles to pull it out of his pocket and he sees it’s Tommy. “Hey man, what’s up?” He asks and Tommy sighs, “I’m sorry. I know you’re having your birthday sex but we had a pipe burst over here. We need you.” Tommy says and Joel huffs, rubbing his cheek. “Sure. I’ll be right there.” He hangs up and looks at you, “I’m so sorry baby. I gotta - pipe burst over at the house. They need me there to help clean up and fix the mess.”

“Okay.” You nod quickly, knowing that he can’t help that. “Let me fix you something to take with you.” You insist, rushing to the kitchen to put some of the lunch you fixed in a Tupperware. “Shit!” You are rushing and accidentally knock the cake to the floor as Joel walks in. “Damnit, I’m so sorry.”

Joel looks down at the floor and up at you, "baby. Shit - let me-" He kneels down to scoop up the cake. It's completely smashed and he feels awful. "I'm so sorry. Fuck. I - this was supposed to be our time and it's - it's been screwed up." He shakes his head, putting the pieces of cake back in the box, "we can still eat it. Five second rule."

“No.” You huff, not finding the idea of eating cake off the floor appealing. “I’ll get you another cake.” You promise. “Or, I’ll bake you one.” You decide. “I just hate that you don’t have it to take home tonight. I know you haven’t picked up one for yourself.”

Joel stands up, walking over to the sink to clean off his hands. “It’s okay, baby. I don’t need a cake. I got you. And an incredible knife. That’s all I need.” He assures you, cupping your cheeks and leaning in to kiss you. His phone rings again and he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” He promises as he grabs his jacket.

You watch as he rushes out of the door and sigh heavily. Looking over at the Tupperware. “Damnit.” You hiss, feeling like a failure because you couldn’t even feed him lunch.

Joel is exhausted by the time he makes it home and he grins when he finds Sarah waiting. “I’m sorry.” He promises, Sarah reaches for his present. He playfully shakes the box, humming out and he is shocked when he opens it to discover his watch is repaired. “Thank you, baby girl.” He murmurs, kissing her hair.

Watching the news, you frown at the reports of violence escalating and you turn it off. Joel would be in the middle of a movie with Sarah and you won’t disturb them. Instead, you decide to go take a long bath, wanting to soak the day away.

Joel sighs as he hangs up, shaking his head at his brother who had gotten into trouble. He knew it was his movie night with Sarah, his goddamn birthday, but he still went out and got into it with some asshole at the bar and now Joel’s gotta go bail him out. He strokes Sarah’s hair and shuts the TV off before he carries her to bed. Kissing her forehead, he makes his way to his truck, wondering if you’re still awake.

****

“Shit. What the fuck happened back there?” Tommy pants as Joel speeds away from the station. “I don’t know.” Joel shakes his head, knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. People were fucking biting each other, running fast and making a clicking noise. Like nothing he’s ever seen. “We gotta get out of town.” Tommy declares and Joel agrees. “Let’s get Sarah, get my girl, and get the fuck out of here.” He decides, pushing his foot to the gas to get to his girls faster.

You wake up shortly after midnight, sirens wailing and then there’s a giant explosion. It jolts you out of a dream and you jump out of bed to rush to the window. Opening the curtains and gasping when you see fires, lights and people running and screaming in the streets. “Holy shit!” You gape, standing there for a second before you are running to get dressed and pack a bag. You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you are going to Joel’s.

Joel speeds up, running over the next door neighbor he’s never really liked, and he panics when he sees Sarah standing outside the house, a terrified look on her face. “It’s okay, get in the car. In the car!” He shouts, ushering his daughter into his truck. He’s already tried calling you but the phone lines are down. He just hopes you stayed home to wait for him.

Your bag is slung over your shoulder, bat in your hand and you can see the car. It feels like a million miles away and you have already attracted the attention of some crazy person by unlocking the doors with your key fob. They are running back and forth in front of the door and screeching. “Fuck! Fuck!” You take the chance when they out of sight nto run out to the car, screaming when they appear out of nowhere to chase you, slamming their head into the window when you close the door in time. Fumbling with the keys, you finally get the car started, backing out of the driveway with the tires screeching and you throw it into drive.

Joel frantically drives through the streets, passing a family calling for help and he tells Tommy he can’t stop, he needs to get to you. He drives faster, squealing the tires as he turns into your neighborhood. Your car isn’t on your driveway when he drives past and he starts to panic until he finds your car crashed into a porch of the house down the street, smoke coming from the engine. He gets out, slamming the door, and he runs over to you, trying to get the car door open but it’s stuck. “Baby, are you okay?” He shouts, banging on the window but your face is resting on the steering wheel.

You groan quietly, feeling like you’ve been hit in the head with an anvil. “Wha-“ winching, you open your eyes slowly to find yourself behind the wheel and then you remember. The person who had been attacking you had jumped out in front of you and you had swerved. You jump when Joel bangs on the window again and looks over at him. “Joel!” You cry out, looking around. “Be careful- a man- he- he attacked me!”

Joel spins around when he hears a growl and he grabs the knife you gave him that put on his belt after he rescued Tommy. He raises his arm and stabs the guy in the head. You scream and Joel withdraws his knife and the guy falls to the ground dead. Joel’s heart is pounding and he turns back to the car. “Baby, the door is stuck. Can you climb to the other side?” He asks, banging on the glass.

“I-I think so.” You struggle with the seatbelt for a moment. Nearly panicking when it wouldn’t come undone right away. Finally free, you crawl over the console to the passenger door. Pushing on it for a second before Joel is there to help.

He pulls on the door, trying to open it, and he lifts his leg to brace it on the car. Sarah and Tommy watch as Joel pulls until finally, the door opens and you scream as you try to get out of the car. “What’s wrong, baby?” Joel catches you.

“My leg. I- I think it’s broken.” You choke, the pain suddenly hitting you and Joel catches you.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He promises, lifting you into his arms.

“We gotta go!” Tommy shouts and Sarah opens the back door for Joel to put you in the back seat. Tommy shifts into the driver's seat and Joel shuts the door, getting into the passenger seat. “You doing okay?” Joel turns to ask you and Sarah after Tommy squeals down the street.

“I think- what the fuck is going on?” You demand, making both Joel and Tommy tense up slightly. Sarah is wide eyed and frantic beside you.

“They’re saying it’s some kind of virus.” Tommy answers, twisting his hand around the steering wheel. You listen as Sarah starts to question them about possibly having it and you wrap your arm around the little girl’s shoulders.

“I think we would already be sick.” You try to comfort her. She turns and huddles against you and you try to ignore the way your leg is starting to throb. It feels like a fracture, which can cause problems so you need to find a pharmacy or something for a splint and antibiotics. “Joel…..I need to stop for medicine.” You know the goal is to be safe, but you also know that your leg could get infected.

Joel nods, turning to look at you and Sarah. “Tommy. The pharmacy. On Main Street.” Joel says and Tommy nods, speeding down the road. When you arrive on Main Street, it’s carnage. People screaming and running. Joel is tense, knowing he needs to help you with your leg but he’s also wanting to drive far away right now. “Tommy!” He shouts as a truck speeds down the street just as a plane overhead starts to fall from the sky.

The next few moments seem to go in slow motion. Joel demanding that Tommy plow through the crowd that is running in the streets and you looking back at the plane as it almost slowly hits the ground, although you know it’s traveling at hundreds of miles an hour. The fireball erupts and both you and Sarah cry out as the shockwave sends the force of the explosion and debris into the truck, flipping it. Your world goes dark.

……“Wake up. Baby, wake up.” Joel begs, turning to see your head lolling and Sarah groans as Joel scrambles to get out of the truck. People are screaming and running, others attacking and his heart is pounding in his chest. Joel manages to get Sarah from the truck, pulling her free and he calls out to Tommy. His brother is trying to get out still and Joel curses as he sets Sarah on the ground. “Can you walk?” He asks and she groans, “my ankle.” He growls, “stay here” and crawls back over to the truck. “Baby. Baby, can you move?” He asks, reaching for you.

Groaning, you try to move as Tommy pulls free of the truck, shaking your head. “Joe-“ you are cutting off with a scream and the truck is jolted forward as the back of the upside down truck is smashed into by a police cruiser. “Shit!” You start to panic as the cop car catches on fire. “Joel! Joel!” Your legs are pinned and even if you are able to get free, you still have a fractured leg. You can hear the panic in Joel’s curses and you know you are going to just make it dangerous for him and Sarah. “I’m stuck!” You yell. “Take Sarah and go!”

“No!” He yells, looking up to see Tommy on the other side of the cop car. Sarah is still on the ground. He can’t take both of you. “Tommy! Can you get over here?” He shouts to his brother, desperation in his voice. “Baby, baby. You gotta - just try and crawl out. I can’t reach you.” He is hyperventilating, trying to save you. “Just try!”

“Go on Joel! Get her out of here!” Tommy shouts over the noise of the fire and the chaos around you. “I’ll get her out and meet you by the river.” You know Tommy is giving Joel hope and you look in his eyes, seeing the hesitation. “I’ll meet you there.” You lie. “Take Sarah and get her out of here baby. I love you.” You choke out, knowing you won’t see him again.

Joel feels like he won’t see you again. He swallows down the lump in his throat, tears in his eyes as he leans in, wishing he could kiss you but he can’t reach you. “I love you. I’ll - I’ll see you soon.” He promises but he can’t keep it. The truck creaks and he turns, scooping up Sarah and she screams, “you have to save her!” Joel hyperventilates as he carries his daughter away, knowing he can save her. He is distracted when he stumbles into the alleyway. He sees the man stumbling before he starts to chase them and Joel grunts, running away with Sarah in his arms. He prays that Tommy rescued you.

Tommy grunts and heaves at the section of the bench that is pinning your ankle. Keeping you in the truck. “Sweetheart…” you can hear the defeat in his voice and your own tears are sliding up into your hair. You’re still upside down and soon enough you will lose consciousness. “It’s okay.” You tell him. “Take care of Joel and Sarah, okay?” You beg him. It’s been pure luck that someone hasn’t attacked Tommy yet but he can’t stay out here any longer. “Go.”

Tommy nods, knowing that this will kill Joel but they can’t do anything without calling for machinery and that isn’t going to happen with the mess that’s happening around you. “I’m so sorry.” Tommy murmurs, reaching in to squeeze your hand. “Go.” You choke and Tommy nods, his chest tight as he lets go of your hand and runs down the street to find Joel.

****

“We’re not sick. We’re not sick!” Joel shouts and tries to turn as the soldier fires his gun. He rolls down the hill with Sarah and she chokes on her own blood when he scrambles over to her. “No no no no. Baby girl. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” He promises, pulling her against him and pressing his hand to the wound to try and stop the bleeding. He’s losing her. He knows he is. He’s losing her and he’s lost you. His girls. “Baby girl. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He chokes, kissing her hair and he feels her go limp in his arms. Sobs escape his lips as he cradles her just as Tommy arrives without you. It’s his worst nightmare and it’s come true.

****

Joel is tense as he rides into the town, Ellie clinging to him. His heart is still pounding from nearly losing her to a rabid dog, and that’s when he hears his name. “Tommy!” He shouts, swinging off of the horse and rushing towards the brother he thought he had lost. “Tommy!” He shouts again and wraps his arms around his brother.

Your head pops up from where you were working on the lights. Knowing that voice, a ghost from your past and the sounds that haunt your dreams at night. Tommy Miller arriving in Jackson had been a complete surprise, but you hadn’t talked to him about Joel. Now even when he had offered to tell him that you were still alive. You had made him promise not to send that message. Maria had agreed and asked Tommy to stop sending communications from the tower. Watching, you see the brothers embrace in the middle of the street and know you need to rush home but before you can turn away, brown eyes that you remember so well turn and lock onto you.

Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut. You’re standing there staring at him, mouth open like his and he drops his arms from Tommy as he murmurs your name. It’s definitely you. You look older but just as fucking beautiful. He swallows harshly and his heart thumps in his chest. “I need - it’s her. She’s alive.” He chokes, his heart pounding and he feels sick, knowing he left you there alone.

Tommy follows Joel’s gaze and shuffles guiltily. “Yeah.” He nods. “Surprised me when I saw her here.” He admits quietly, still feeling guilty about that night and you being left behind. “Joel-“ he doesn’t have the words to properly apologize, but he has regrets to last a lifetime. “I’m sorry.”

Joel shakes his head, unable to say anything. Ellie looks on as Joel practically stumbles over to you. His hands reach for you and he lifts his hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re alive.” He chokes, “you are here.” He declares in awe.

“I’m here.” You whisper, knowing that you’ve aged and so has Joel, but you can see that he’s still the same man you had been with so many years ago. Just with a little more mileage on him and what looks like a lifetime of regret. Tommy had told you about Sarah, so you know that in one night he had lost everyone he loved except for his brother. That’s why it’s not surprising to you to see Joel here.

He caresses your cheeks, trying to experience every year you have survived without him by your side through the stories your skin tells and you grip his wrists, clinging to him as a gruff voice calls out, “who the fuck is this?” Joel turns to look over at the guy, ready to defend you or himself in case it’s your husband, but he freezes when he sees the boy. He’s about twenty. His eyes and nose are like Joel’s. “Mom. Are you okay?” The boy comes over to you and Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“JJ…..” you turn your head to watch your son closely, feeling Joel stiffen and you step away from him. “Baby, this is Joel Miller.” You explain carefully, making your son’s frown deepen into a fierce scowl.

“This is the asshole that left you to die?” He scoffs, glaring at Joel as he looks him up and down. “JJ!” You hiss. “It wasn’t like that!” You had never told your son about that night, but Tommy had told his story and it had gotten around. JJ had taken to thinking the worst of his father.

Ellie watches in shock as she tries to put the pieces together. Joel is still in shock. He has a son. He left you to die and you were pregnant. “I - you were - and I-” He chokes and JJ scoffs, “yeah. You left her to die, you piece of shit. And she was pregnant.” He growls and steps towards Joel who holds his hands up, ready to take what your son gives him. He deserves it.

“STOP IT.” You step in front of your son, your hand on his chest and you push him back to wag your finger in his face. “Joesph Joel Miller, you go back to the house right now.” You scold him. “I will talk to you later, but don’t you dare step foot out of that house until I get back.”

Joel is speechless and your son clenches his jaw, knowing it’s best to not argue with his mother so he steps back from Joel and storms off to your house. Joel watches him, his eyes wide as he looks back at you, desperate for an explanation to be spoken instead of his mind whirling.

Tommy steps up, looking around and the curious spectators. “Maybe we can talk while we get them something to eat?” He asks you. “I know that my brother has the same questions I had.” You look at him and nod, gesturing towards the meal hall. “Come, I - is your little girl hungry?” You ask, trying not to be upset that Joel has another child.

Joel doesn’t explain, he can’t. He’s still in shock so he nods and beckons Ellie to follow as you guide him to the canteen. Tommy gets some food brought over and the woman from earlier sits down. “I think this is a conversation best left between family.” Joel hints and Maria snorts, “I am family.” She holds up her hand to display her wedding ring and Tommy takes her hand in his. “She’s my wife.” Joel is shocked once more, shaking his head. “I- I can’t - when - how?” He needs answers. Now.

You don’t answer, letting Tommy tell his story as he sees fit. He explains how Maria had found him after he left the Fireflies and brought him here. “And I was surprised as shit to find her here.” He nods towards you, bringing Joel’s attention back to you, although he had kept looking at you the entire time. Apparently now it’s time that you explain your story. “That night- uh, Tommy couldn’t get me free.” You know Tommy had told him about leaving you, but only you know what happened after. “Another- there was another car that hit the police cruiser.” You wince slightly, remembering how hot it had been. “It shifted the seat and I could crawl out of the truck. The chaos-“ you shake your head. “It was- quiet then. Not many were left alive.” You look down at your hands. “I crawled to the pharmacy and managed to get inside. It was where I stayed for a week.”

Joel sets his fork down, running his fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes. He didn’t try hard enough to get you out. He left you alone. He left you alone and pregnant. The guilt claws at his insides but he doesn’t interrupt you, wanting you to tell your story.

“The pharmacy had a boot and I could use that to walk, so I waited until the antibiotics were in my system and the food in the store was gone.” You huff at yourself. “You remember when I had that root canal?” You ask and he frowns and nods. “Well….antibiotics, umm, they make your birth control not work.” You admit with a small shrug of your shoulders and a wry smile. “The best I can estimate is that we conceived JJ that day, on your birthday.” You admit quietly. “I didn’t realize I was pregnant until months later. When I was at a refugee camp.” You sigh softly, remembering how you had wondered if Joel survived, looking for him everyday during that time. You never found him.

Joel shakes his head, finally opening his eyes to look at you. "I- I left you and you were - Jesus Christ." He hates himself. The loathing from Sarah's death explodes and he chokes. "I am - shit - I am so sorry. I can't - there's - I should've tried harder to get you out of there. I should've - fuck." He feels tears sting in his eyes and he rubs them.

“You had Sarah to take care of.” You remind him softly, reaching out and touching his arm. “I always told you to put her first. I’m not- I don’t blame you Joel. And I’m so sorry about Sarah.” You murmur, ignoring the way that Ellie looks on with fascination between slurping bites of her soup. “JJ doesn’t know the entire story.”

Joel swallows harshly, “I don’t - he’s gotta hate me.” He murmurs and Maria looks at Tommy before her gaze slides to Ellie. “Hey. Why don’t we get you a shower and some new clothes? I can cut your hair too.” Maria offers and Ellie opens her mouth to protest leaving Joel when he says “let’s go. I need some air.” He stands up and grabs his backpack, needing to be outside so he can think. Maria and Tommy stand up and Joel looks at you. “You need some time. I’ll find you later.” You promise and he nods, “soon.”

Walking slowly back to your house, you can’t believe that Joel is here. Feeling guilty for the shock of learning that you had his child at the end of the world. You had honestly never expected to see him again. You know about Tess, learning from Tommy that Joel had found some semblance of happiness. You could never begrudge him that. Not even if you had never been involved with anyone yourself. You had been too busy raising JJ, helping build Jackson into what it is now. Surviving this cruel new world. Reaching the near home you share with your son, you sigh and watch as he comes charging out onto the front porch, oddly deflating when he sees you are alone. “He already left?” He demands bitterly and you shake your head. Everyday you are reminded how much JJ is like his father. More serious in his young life, but circumstances had dictated that. “JJ….” You sigh softly. “Sometimes you are so like him.”

Your son shakes his head, “I’m nothing like that piece of shit. He left you alone to die, mom. He left you in that truck. Everyone said uncle Tommy stayed behind to save you but he couldn’t. That bastard ran away, he left you. He left us.” JJ spits as he looks down the street as if he’s looking for Joel.

“You have- had a sister, JJ.” You reach out for him and take his hand, not letting him shake you off. “Half sister. Her name was Sarah and she was twelve the night the world ended.” You explain quietly. “That night, I was trapped in the truck and Sarah was hurt. Joel couldn’t get me out and protect her. Just like I’ve always protected you, Sarah was his priority. That’s how it should have been. How I wanted it. I told him to go. I thought I was going to die and I didn’t want them to die with me.”

JJ shakes his head, trying to process that his half sister died that night. That you sent his father away to save her and he failed. “I can’t - you have never talked about him. Why? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” JJ asks, wanting to know why he’s been kept in the dark.

You swallow, your eyes starting to get watery and you bite your lip for a moment before you compose yourself. Needing to not sob out of anger at the way your life had turned out. “Because he’s- your father is the great love of my life.” You admit quietly, reaching under your shirt and pulling out the heart charm that you have always worn. “For a long time, I had thought he had died. So many died, and I couldn’t-“ you break off when your voice cracks. “I thought it would be easier, but you look just like him. Act just like him.”

JJ reaches for you, knowing that you’re upset. “I’m sorry, mom. Shit. I’m sorry.” He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you. He’s still conflicted but he knows that you will be strong like you always have. “He’s not dead. He’s here and he - he’s got another kid.”

You hum, knowing that it’s surprising. “I can’t blame him. He thought I was dead.” You remind your son. The son you created with Joel on that fateful day. You hug him tightly. “Life is harsh. You find happiness where you can. I found my happiness in raising you. Keeping a piece of him safe.”

JJ sighs, pulling back to look at you. “I’m really like him?” He asks and you chuckle, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Yeah. You have his stubbornness.” JJ snorts and smiles at you, “I want to meet him properly.” You nod, “we can arrange that.”

****

Joel sips the whiskey Tommy handed him, admiring the bar they have set up. A fucking bar. While he’s been out there fighting for his life to get Ellie where she needs to go, to find his brother, the brother in question was drinking in a bar and knew the love of Joel’s life was safe and had his kid. He downs the drink, tapping the bar to silently ask for another. Tommy raises his eyebrows but pours another measure, grabbing himself a glass. “I’m gonna be a dad.” Tommy announces and Joel can’t feel happy for him. Smothered by his own failures as a parent, he scoffs and Tommy shakes his head, “you can’t even be happy for me.” Joel shrugs, “you’ll be fine.”

Tommy sighs, exasperated. “I’m sorry about Sarah, Joel.” He huffs. “But just because she died doesn’t mean I stopped living.” He tells his brother. “You have a grown son.” His brow lifts slightly. “Maybe you should get to know him.”

Joel stares at the wood grain on the counter, knowing that his son will hate him for leaving you. He doubts he’ll ever establish a relationship with him. “I need to take Ellie to Colorado first.” He declares, “I need to help her.”

Tommy sighs, “you better go find your girl and talk to her. Ellie will be fine with Maria.” Tommy assures his brother who nods, knowing he needs to talk to you properly. He downs the rest of the whiskey and pushes away from the bar, “show me the way.”

You bring JJ into the house, setting the kettle on to boil so you can sit down and talk with him. Answering any question frankly and telling him more about the man who had helped create him. Sharing parts of yourself that you had kept private for so long and smiling at the memories.

Joel shuffles awkwardly on the threshold of the place you call home. It’s so bizarre being in Jackson, like a mirror image of a time he thought was long gone but this little piece of paradise in Wyoming has his heart relaxing. He’s not worried about dying here. He’s not worried about Ellie getting hurt. He knocks on your door, anxiously awaiting your son to come and punch him. He deserves it and more.

Your forehead furrows slightly and you look up from your tea. “Do you-“

JJ stands, shaking his head. “I’ll get the door. It’s probably Matt. We were going to catch the movie after we feed the pigs.” Everyone has their assigned chores and JJ and his best friend were currently on duty with the animals.

“Okay.” You nod, looking back down at the tea.

Joel looks up as the door opens and he inhales deeply when he sees JJ standing there. “I, uh, guess I should introduce myself properly. I’m Joel Miller.” He holds his hand out and the boy takes it, squeezing it harder than necessary but Joel understands his protectiveness and anger.

“Joseph Joel Miller.” He responds and Joel can’t believe you named the boy after him when he left you for dead.

Joel waits until his hand is freed before he scratches his cheek, “I didn’t want to leave your mother. I just - that night - you didn’t live through the chaos. I should’ve stayed. I have regretted it every damn day of my life.” He confesses, “and I’m sorry.” He adds and JJ nods, pushing the door open. “Better if you said it to her.” Joel nods, stepping into the house and he looks around, “she’s in the kitchen.” JJ announces and Joel steps further into the house until he finds the kitchen and you.

When you hear footsteps approaching, you look up, surprised to see Joel standing in the doorway. “Joel.” You shoot out of your seat and stand awkwardly. Wondering if he is here to chew you out for keeping your son from him. “I- do you want some tea?”

Joel knows he should have something to counter the whiskey. He wants to be lucid when he has this conversation with you. “Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart.” He steps towards the table and JJ nods when he pulls out the chair. He sits down and watches you pour out some tea for him. You’re still as beautiful as the day he left you.

“I’ve been talking to JJ.” You explain. “Telling him about that night in more detail. So he can apologize for being so rude to you.” You glance at your son pointedly, and he sighs, toying with his teacup.

“Sorry I was rude to you.” He tells Joel, not exactly sincere but it’s not as hostile as it had been before. You snort to yourself and bump him when you move to put the kettle back on the stove.

Joel shifts in his seat as he nods at his son, "if it was my momma, I would've punched the asshole who left her to die so I think I got off easy." He says to the boy who has his eyes but your hair and mouth. Joel knows he must have your smile "I am sorry for what happened that night, I never forgave myself. I had nightmares for a long time after that night. Because of all of it." He admits and JJ fiddles with the delicate cup in his hands. "Mom said you lost your daughter...my half sister, Sarah." Joel sighs, his chest tightening in the same way it has since losing his little girl. "She got shot by a soldier. He thought - he thought we were infected and there was nothing - she died in my arms." He finishes with a whisper.

You close your eyes, almost ready to sit down when he says that and you reach out for his arm. “I am so sorry.” You whisper quietly. You had respected his love for his daughter, but it was after you had JJ had you truly understood that willingness to die for your child, or kill for them.

JJ looks down sadly. “What was she like?” He asks curiously

Joel offers his son a rare smile. “She was funny. She would gang up on me with Tommy, play pranks on me. She was so damn pretty. I was worried about when she was gonna start dating. I was preparing my 9 mil for the boys…if she liked boys. We never established that.” He frowns, “she was a girly girl. Loved pink. She was caring too. Looked after me. Loved cooking. She practically kept me and Tommy fed.” He gets lost in his memories as he taps his fingers on the kitchen table.

JJ listens closely, building a vision of this sister he will never know in his mind. He doesn’t even know if there is a picture of her around and he doesn’t want to ask. “Well, Tommy is still a horrible cook.” He offers with a grin. “Mom and I eat at home on nights he helps in the communal kitchen.”

Joel snorts, “he’s a terrible cook. So am I. I can skin and cook a rabbit but actually spices? Hopeless.” He admits and JJ chuckles. “What about…you have another daughter?” He inquires and Joel places his hand flat on the table. “She’s not mine, biologically. She’s from Boston. Her mom died when she was born and she needs to get to Colorado. Someone I know asked me to take her there and I am.” He discloses, “she’s important. She’s -” He doesn’t know if he should say why because of Ellie’s safety but it’s you, and his son. “She was bitten back in Boston. She’s still alive. She’s - she could be the key to a cure.”

You rear back in surprise. Trying to comprehend what that might mean for the curse that has plagued the world since that night twenty years ago. “Joel-“ you shake your head and huff. “That’s- you can’t tell anyone here.” You caution him. “Tommy, that’s it. I don’t know what the council could do, but we don’t have the facilities here. What’s in Colorado?”

"Doctors. Apparently they are working on a cure. She wants to get over there and I need to take her. She's - she's important to me now." He admits, "I have to help her."

Joel has had an entire life without you. Loved and lost and apparently lost again since Tess isn’t with him. Tommy had explained their relationship and while your heart ached at Joel moving on, it was natural. You couldn’t have expected him to pine over you for the rest of his life. It wouldn’t be fair. It doesn’t matter that you have done that exact thing. “I see.” You nod and look down at your tea cup. “We will help however we can.”

Joel reaches for your hand, “I have to finish my journey with her but then I’ll come straight back. We need - I can’t - unless you want me to stay away.” He murmurs, knowing you might hate him for leaving you to die.

“I don’t want you to stay away.” You murmur softly. “I know that you didn’t have the best introduction to your son, but I want you to know him. For him to know you.” You smile at him, wondering if he’s just trying to understand the last twenty years or if this means he still cares about you in some small way.

Joel nods, offering you a smile and it feels strange on his face. Foreign. He doesn’t smile often. He swallows harshly and looks over at JJ who nods, reluctance and curiosity in his eyes. “As soon as I help Ellie, I’ll come back and we will get to know each other.”

“Did Tommy get a house sorted for you to stay in?” You ask, wondering if he’s going to need to stay with you. Or if Tommy had been planning on that.

Joel frowns, the concept of a house is also foreign to him. “I haven’t - we didn’t really get a chance to discuss where we would stay.” He admits, “Ellie is with Maria. I need to find her and speak to Tommy.” He also needs some air, a moment to process everything he’s discovered today.

“Oh, okay.” You pull your hand out of his and stand up. “She’s probably at Maria and Tommy’s house.” You move to the window and point. “Two blocks that way.”

Joel stands up, brushing down his pants, and he needs a shower but that can wait. He makes his way down the hall followed by you, JJ still in the kitchen. He reaches up to cup your cheek, “I’ll be back if you want me. I’m so sorry I left you, baby.”

“Joel….” You don’t want him to leave and feel guilty. Being distracted out here can get you killed. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” You murmur gently. “I’m sorry that leaving didn’t save Sarah.” You cover his hand with your own. “Be safe and come back as soon as you can.”

He nods, “I gotta - I’m gonna find Ellie and then I’ll be back.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead. He makes his way outside and follows the directions you gave him until he comes to Tommy’s house and he knocks on the door.

Tommy opens the door to find Joel on the porch and he glances behind him to see if anyone else is there. “You looking for Ellie?” He asks, not sure if Joel is still in a tizzy about Maria being pregnant, or you being alive.

Joel nods, “can we talk first? I just - I need to talk to someone about all of this.” He confesses, knowing he isn’t someone who bares his feelings but he needs to talk to his brother, the one person who knows about everything.

“Yeah.” Joel looks almost panicked, or defeated and he looks down at his boots. They are worn out and held together with duct tape. “Come on, let’s get you some shoes.” He grabs his jacket and steps out of the house, pulling it on.

Joel follows his brother to the cobbler. It’s insane to know that there’s a cobbler in this world he has yet to experience. He removes his tattered boots and sits down, swallowing harshly. “I was so afraid.” Joel confesses, “and I have dreams. Every night.”

“What kind of dreams?” Tommy asks, frowning at his older brother.

Joel shakes his head, “I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up ... I've lost something. I'm failing in my sleep. It's all I do. It's all I've ever done ... is fail her. Again and again." Her is the women closest to him. Sarah. Ellie. You. He has failed you all and tears sting in his eyes as he tries to process that he’s failed again. He failed you by leaving you pregnant in a world that wanted you dead.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Tommy shakes his head. “There was no easy way out of that situation. She was stuck. Hell, she still walks with a limp on really cold days. If you had got her out, you don’t think those sons of bitches wouldn’t have shot her too?”

Joel chokes at the thought. “I can’t have her again. I failed her. She should hate me. She shouldn’t be with me.” He shakes his head, a tear falling from his eye. “He should hate me. He does. I deserve to be sent away and never let back in.”

Tommy snorts, hating that Joel is letting his demons overrule his heart. He deserves this, he deserves to be free to love again. Especially since he lost Tess. Tess had been a saving grace for him, and even if he didn’t love her completely, it was only because he still loved you. “You wanna know why she wouldn’t let me tell you that she was alive?” Tommy asks Joel, waiting until his older brother looks up at him. “Because you had moved on. You had Tess. You were….content.” Tommy shrugs. “She loves you so much that knowing you were okay was enough for her.”

Joel wipes his cheeks, “I can’t let her have me back. I need to go. You need to take Ellie to Colorado for me. I need to go.” He chokes, knowing he won’t be able to be the man that you need.

“You are your own worst enemy.” Tommy tells him, shaking his head. Joel closes his eyes but whispers a quiet “please”, his tone agonized. “Yeah, alright.” Tommy sighs. “I’ll do it.”

Joel exhales shakily, standing up, and Tommy works on getting him a pair of shoes. He sighs and tries the shoes on, knowing this will be the pair that last him till the end of his days. He knows he won’t make it alone in the wilderness and he deserves to go. It’s time. When he comes back to Tommy’s house, he’s exhausted but he finds Ellie reading a diary. “Is this all they had to worry about? Boys and school?” She scoffs, flipping the page. The next words that come out of Joel’s mouth are ones he will regret. Saying that Ellie isn’t his kid.

Ellie’s face drops as Joel slams out of the room she had picked for herself. Hurt and furious at what she feels like is a betrayal. She hears Joel slam the door shut of the room down the hall before she grabs her jacket and slips out of the house. She needs to talk to someone and it might as well be you.

Joel exhales shakily, his hands shaking and chest heaving while his heart pounds in his chest. He’s failed again. He has failed everyone in his life and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He can’t fail Ellie again. He decides then and there that he’s taking her to Colorado.

The knock on the door is later than you expected. JJ is still at the movie and you wonder if Joel has come back with more questions. Opening the door, you find Ellie, her face drawn and distraught and you immediately step back. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

Ellie shakes her head, tears in her eyes, and she rushes forward to wrap her arms around your waist. “He- he doesn’t want me. No one wants me. I just - I feel so fucking lost.” She chokes, burying her face into you.

It must be because you are a mother, or maybe because of your history with Joel for her to come to you. Wrapping your arms around her, you hug the distraught teen tightly. “He does want you.” You promise her softly. “He’s afraid of losing you.”

Ellie shakes her head, “he doesn’t want me. No one wants me. I’m an orphan and I don’t know where the hell I belong. I need - he was gonna take me to Colorado and I wanted him to take me. I thought - I kinda wanted him to love me.” She chokes, “as a daughter.”

“Sweet girl.” You hold onto her tighter, unsure of why she’s orphaned, but she’s pretty sure it has something to do with the fucked up world. “That’s what scares him. He does.” You rub her back gently. “He loved Sarah with every fiber of her being and Tommy has told me what her dying did to him. It broke him, made him brittle and hard. He’s scared to open himself up again. But he will. He will, for you.”

Ellie sniffs, unused to being so vulnerable. Her whole life she’s had to be strong, to act like nothing bothers her. She swallows harshly and pulls back from you. “Can you walk me back to Tommy’s - I don’t - I don’t know where it is.” She admits, feeling embarrassed by her outburst.

“I can.” You nod and drop your arms from around the younger girl. “Or I can make you some tea?” You offer, knowing she still might be emotional. “You don’t have to go. I was planning on making some for myself and then baking some scones.” You smile. “We’ve grown our own wheat last summer and we are finally able to bake safely again.

Ellie’s eyes widen. She has never baked. She nods, wiping her eyes, and she follows you into the house. She is happy that you comforted her, helped her through a difficult moment. She’s never had a mother figure. Even Marlene was such a brief interaction in her life.

You find Ellie to be completely amazing. She’s witty and sarcastic, harder than Sarah was, but much the same with her sense of humor. It makes sense, because Sarah had been allowed to be innocent whereas Ellie has grown up in a harsher world. Once the scones slide into the oven, you set the timer and smile. “Now, you will have to take half of them when you and Joel go on your trip to Colorado.” You tell her. “You did most of the work.”

Ellie wonders if this is what life was like before the outbreak. If it was this easy and safe and fun. "I don' think Joel is going to take me to Colorado." She sighs, "so looks like more scones for me."

“I don’t know…” you smirk slightly. “You might not want to share them with him once you try them.” It’s a joke, not a particularly good one, but she does huff in slight amusement. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.” She reveals, “I want to get there as soon as possible because…” She steps towards you, pulling on the sleeve of her shirt to show you the healed teeth marks on her arm.

“I think I am the cure to all of this bullshit.”

You had heard it from Joel, but to see the not one, but two scars on her arm is nothing short of amazing. You know it must be true, she would have never gotten past the dogs otherwise. “Amazing.” You whisper quietly, reaching out to tracing the marks. “That’s- you’re amazing.”

Ellie scoffs, “I don’t know about that. I want to give people a chance. To have the life that we used to have. Go to the mall. The movies.” She sighs, dreaming of a future where she could be a normal teenager.

“We are starting to reclaim some of that.” You remind her gently. “Here. We are expanding our lives from just survival. And you are welcomed to stay here and not go to Colorado.” You chuckle quietly. “Saving the world is a tough burden to shoulder and no one would blame you if you didn’t want to.”

Ellie shakes her head, “I need to. It’s what I need to do. I need to save someone. I couldn’t save my friend. She - she got bit when I did and I - I have to save someone. Even if it’s one person.” She murmurs, closing her eyes for a second.

You reach out for her, patting her hand gently. “I understand.” You promise. “I feel guilty now, I got to keep my child and raise him, while Joel lost his.” You sigh softly. “Life sucks sometimes, huh?”

She snorts, “yeah. It does. So…Joel’s got a kid?” She asks and you nod, “yeah. He’s just like him sometimes.” Ellie whistles, “oh boy. That’s gonna be interesting to see.” You giggle, “he has his father’s stubbornness. Something I’m sure you know.” You nudge her and she nods, “abso-fucking-lutely.”

The two of you sit in the silence for another moment until Ellie clears her throat. “What was he like before? Before the outbreak?” She asks curiously.

You smile, thinking about that time fondly. “Hard working. A flirt.” You giggle quietly when Ellie makes a disgusted face. “He was a single father, so he did everything for Sarah. Loved music, loved, loved going out where live bands were playing classic rock. And a surprisingly good dancer.”

Ellie’s eyes widen, “Joel used to dance? No fucking way!” She shakes her head and you nod, “he was good.” She can’t believe it but she knows that the harsh man he is today isn’t the same man he was before he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Joel…dancing.” She trails off and snorts, “can’t believe it.”

You hum, trying to remember that Ellie only knows the man after the heartbreak. “Joel wants to come back to Jackson, after you’re done saving the world.” You tell her. “Maybe you’ll come back with him?”

Ellie nods, "I would like to but this is important. The cure. A possible cure. I need to do what I can." She declares and you nod, "let's get you back to Tommy's. I'm sure you want to sleep in a proper bed." Ellie grins, "fuck yeah."

You insist on walking Ellie. It doesn’t matter that Jackson is safe. She feels lost and alone and you want her to know that she isn’t. That she has someone who will look after her. When you round the corner and Tommy’s comes into sight, the house next door has a single light on upstairs and you can see a figure pacing in front of the windows. “Joel is still awake.”

Ellie turns to you, "thanks for...well, you know." She shrugs and you reach out to squeeze her shoulder. "I am always here. I'll be here if you decide to come back." You promise and she surges forward to hug you. "Thank you." She whispers, squeezing you for a second before she pulls away and makes her way into Tommy's house. You look up at the window where Joel is pacing, wondering what he's thinking, and you turn on your heel to head home. Joel needs time to process and so do you.

**** You don’t sleep well, up before the sun and you get dressed in the dark while JJ snores away down the hall. Making your way to the stables with the hope that you didn’t miss Joel and Ellie leaving. Despite what the teenager told you, you know that Joel wouldn’t be satisfied unless he saw it through. He was the one that delivered her safely to the doctors for a cure.

****

Joel pats the horse as he finishes strapping on the saddlebags when Ellie arrives with Tommy in the stable. His dark eyes flick to where you are standing with JJ behind them. "You ready to go, kid?" He asks Ellie, not wanting to address the elephant in the room.

You step out from the stall, holding Joel’s bag as you smirk, Ellie immediately choosing Joel over Tommy as her travel companion. You had found Joel thinking about sneaking away and unable to do it, especially when he had seen you had come to see him off. “Told ya.” You tell the younger girl, pleasantly surprised to see JJ with them.

Joel doesn't let his happiness show on his face. The kid picked him. His heart nearly bursts and he knows he has to protect her, see her to the end of her journey. Joel helps her onto the horse and he steps over to you, reaching for your hand. "I am going to come back...if you want me to."

You stare into his eyes and nod. “You better come back, Miller.” You threaten softly. “Keep her safe. She loves you.”

He nods, "I'll be back as soon as I can." He promises even though you both know deep down it's impossible to keep it when he's out in the wilderness. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his eyes closing as he breathes you in.

JJ shuffles, coming up beside you and when Joel pulls away, you see the worry in your son’s eyes. “When you come back, I’d like to- to, uh, talk.” He admits. “So, uh, try not to die?”

Joel snorts, reaching out to squeeze his son’s upper arm. “I’ll be back.” He promises just as much as he can to his son. “You keep each other safe, yeah?” He says and JJ nods, standing straighter. Joel’s eyes flick over to Tommy who offers him a nod and Joel steps back, swinging his leg over after placing his foot in the stirrup.

You help Ellie up, patting her leg gently and smiling at her. “Share the scones.” You remind her with a wink. She nods, although she’s pouting so you wonder if she had already eaten some and really didn’t want to share. Stepping back from the horse, you meet Joel’s eyes again and you smile at him. “Be safe.”

Joel offers you one more nod, kicking the flank of the horse as he starts to move, beginning the journey to Colorado and the venture back into the unknown. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen but he will fight tooth and nail to get back to you and JJ. He owes you his return so he can make up for leaving you that fateful night.

****

It’s summer and there still hasn’t been any sign of Joel. You’ve gone on the scouting parties, manned the walls, talked to everyone who had come back. It’s been months, and you are worried. Of course, you don’t say anything to JJ, not wanting to upset your son, but it shouldn’t have taken this long. A few weeks, a month at most. Something’s happened and you’ve been talking to Tommy about going out to look for them. He says no, but you need to.

Joel stumbles slightly as he and Ellie walk the final stretch back to Jackson. He’s filthy, exhausted, hungry, and the guilt hangs over him that he saves Ellie, but damned the world to continue to exist in this damned reality. He is about to approach the gates when Maria rides out on a horse with several others and her eyes widen at the sight of her brother in law. “Get them inside.” She demands, seeing how exhausted the pair are.

The knock at the door comes rushed, and you hurry, not sure who it might be. But your gasp of surprise is loud when you see Maria and Tommy with an exhausted and bedraggled Joel and Ellie. “You’re back!” You leap back to let them into the house and you can tell that it’s been a hard journey. “Oh god, are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Both.” Ellie groans, her body aching from the arduous journey on foot and Joel reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his chest. He knows he stinks but he just needs to know he’s alive, that he made it back to you.

“You’re here.” You sag in relief against him, almost in tears for how relieved you are. “Thought you might want them to stay with you.” Tommy speaks up and grins at you with a small wink. “I’ll send some clothes over for them both after they get a bath and sleep for a few days.”

Joel lets go of you, the weight of the word still on his shoulders and he hates how his eyes water with unshed tears. He turns his head away so no one sees and you distract Ellie, “you want a shower? We have hot water and I just made some new soap.”

Ellie grins, “fuck yes.” She is ready to clean up and she follows you upstairs while you give Joel a minute. He looks at JJ and the boy steps forward to hug his father. He’s seen the worry in your eyes as you wait each day, watching to see if he would return and JJ realized that a man like that, a man that you would wait for, must be a man he could aspire to be. His uncle Tommy had explained more about what happened that night and he understands a little more about how Joel felt, how torn he had been to make the decision to leave you. Joel is shocked but pats the boy’s back, comforting his son. The son he now can get to know properly.

Upstairs, Ellie gives you a big hug. Just as emotional as the one Joel had given you and despite the fact that she desperately needs a bath, you kiss the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re back, kiddo.” You murmur softly, squeezing her tight. You are glad to see her, just as much as Joel, the girl meaning the world to your former lover. The man you still love.

JJ steps back, clearing his throat, and Joel offers him a small smile, knowing it’s got to be hard for him to process all of this shit. Ellie is showering so Joel hovers until JJ escorts him to the kitchen, preparing him a drink and starts on something to eat.

You set a set of pajamas down on the bed that Ellie will use. The house is a three bedroom and you always keep the other room ready for anyone that might need it. She can claim it forever for all you care, although you aren’t sure if Joel wants to share a room or a bed with you. You come downstairs and smile at JJ cooking. “You want me to finish up?”

JJ shakes his head, "I got it, mom." You nod and look over at Joel who is sipping a glass of water. "You want something stronger? Tommy gave me a bottle of whiskey for my birthday." You declare and Joel sighs softly, "I missed so many birthdays." He looks over at JJ, wondering how his birthdays were as a kid.

“You’re here for them now.” You remind him softly, aware that no matter what he wishes, you can’t turn back time. You walk over to a cabinet to pull out a couple of glasses and change your mind and get three. Your son can have a drink with his father. You smile as you get the ice and move over to the table. “I’ll grab the bottle.”

Joel watches you as you move around the kitchen. You’re still fucking gorgeous and he feels so lucky to have found you again, that you didn’t die that night. You pour three measures and slide the glass over to Joel and you look over at JJ just as he turns off the stove. “Here you go.” You nudge the glass towards him and he raises his eyebrows, “you sure, mom?”

“You’re old enough.” You promise, grinning at him. “I think it’s a right of passage to have a drink with your dad.” You tell him, pulling out a seat and sitting down.

JJ grins, shifting to sit down and he picks up the glass. He sniffs the liquid and winces, making Joel chuckle slightly. “To survivin’.” He toasts, knowing that the only thing anyone wants is to survive but it looks like you and JJ have been thriving in Jackson.

“To surviving.” You agree, holding your glass up and JJ does the same. You take a sip of your drink and your son follows his father’s example and tosses back the entire thing. It’s funny to watch him choke and sputter, a light hearted moment for you to share.

Joel smirks at the boy struggling to drink the harsh liquor and he winks at his son who looks down at the table in embarrassment. “The food is ready.” JJ announces and Joel clears his throat, “I should shower first.” You shake your head, “don’t be silly. The food is hot. Shower after. I’ll go get Ellie.” Joel nods and pours himself another glass, needing it after he nearly died out there.

You stand up and move to the staircase so you can get the younger girl, finding her coming out onto the landing. “Dinner is ready. I know you have to be ready for a hot meal.”

Joel watches JJ serve up the food and he sets the plates down on the table just as Ellie comes downstairs. The guilt swirls in Joel’s stomach. He lied to her. He did it for his own selfish reasons. He swallows harshly and sets the glass down just as Ellie sits down at the table. “Taking a shower with hot water is the fucking best.”

You laugh and nod as you sit down. “I agree. Getting electricity back has been amazing for us. Hot baths do wonders for cramps too.” You inform her with a wink.

Ellie flushes but offers you a small smile, picking up the fork so she can dig into the first hot meal she’s had for weeks. Joel watches JJ dig in and his eyes flit over to you, knowing he still needs to talk to you. He’s had a lot of time to think during the long journey and he realized during the moments that he nearly died that he doesn’t want to keep living in the past.

“Is something missing?” You ask, making Joel shake his head as he picks up his fork. “No.” He assures you, digging in. You smile and watch as Ellie clears her plate quickly. “There’s more.” You promise, nodding towards the stove. “Take as much as you want. There’s plenty for everyone.”

Joel eats enough until he feels sick. He doesn’t want to make himself sick, or to waste the food. He stands up, ready to clean the dishes when JJ places a hand on his shoulder. “I got it, dad.” He says and Joel’s heart clenches at the word. He nods and reaches up to touch his son’s hand. “I better shower.” Joel says, suddenly feeling the grime on his skin.

You nod and push back from your place. “I’ll show you.” You offer quickly, ignoring a smirk from Ellie. You only want to show him to the master bathroom and lay out some sweats and underwear that the long dead last owner of the home had left behind. They were soft and fresh, you kept the clothes in a cedar lined trunk after washing them, knowing they might be useful.

Joel follows you up the stairs and into the master bedroom, past the bed you sleep in to enter the bathroom. You turn on the shower for him and he sits on the toilet so he can remove his boots and socks. Wiggling his toes in relief, he works on shrugging off his shirts.

“Oh my god!” You gasp when his chest is revealed, a torn, jagged wound in his side that is most definitely fresh on display. “Fuck. What happened?” You demand, moving over to him and touching the ragged scar gently. It’s obvious it had been stitched closed, but it’s still very tender looking in your opinion.

He winces, “I - I got stabbed. We got to Denver and no one was there. Well, that’s what I thought. Raiders were there. They found us and before we could escape, one of them stabbed me with a broken baseball bat and I nearly died. Ellie - she saved me but she was taken and she nearly - the leader. He nearly - I failed her again.” Joel finishes in a whisper, his head dropping between his shoulders.

“Oh shit….” You whisper softly, imagining the horrors she had endured until Joel had rescued her. “But you got her back. You saved her.” Joel snorts and shakes his head. “She saved herself.” He argues and you know there is more to it than that. “And how many did you kill to get to her?”

Joel exhales shakily, “they were gonna- she hasn’t been the same since. He took something from her. Thank fuck he didn’t touch her but he changed her. When we got to the doctor. They were going to kill her. Take her goddamn brain out and I- I couldn’t let them do it. I kept thinking about Sarah and how I couldn’t save her but I could try and save Ellie. I was fuckin’ selfish. I saved her over the world possibly getting a cure and she would hate me. I told her that there wasn’t a cure. I couldn’t let her die.” He chokes, reaching up to rub his eyes.

You try to keep up with his rambling explanation and all you really understand is that he saved her from dying and the world was going to continue on. “Oh my god.” You sit back on your heels in front of him and shake your head after a moment. “You saved her, Joel. Her life matters and if a doctor was going to take her brain? Well, they are wrong. Jesus.” You huff. “Ethics went to shit in this world, I know, but doctors? They aren’t supposed to murder people for some hypothetical cure. What if it’s just not possible? They would have killed an amazing kid for fucking nothing. Nothing. You weren’t selfish. You were being her protector. Her dad.”

Joel swallows, “I lied to her. Told her there was no cure. I couldn’t tell her that I saved her because I was selfish. That she didn’t get a damn choice because I can’t live without her.” He lowers his hands and looks at you, “I can’t lose anyone else.”

“You don’t have to.” You promise quietly, even though you can’t guarantee him anything. You couldn’t even guarantee him that in the old world you both knew.

He closes his eyes again, “I never stopped loving you, you know? Even when I thought you were dead. No one could ever replace you in my heart. The woman I was with in the QZ…Tess…I could never give her all of me and she knew it. I explained that I’d lost you and she understood.” He confesses, “I know…you might’ve moved on but I just want you to know that I will always love you.”

“Joel….” You know that he might blame himself for living once you tell him this, but you feel like he should know. “There’s never been anyone but you.” You murmur softly. “I had JJ, I had a piece of you, I didn’t need anything else.” You reach under your shirt and pull out the necklace he had given you not too long before the world ended. “I kept this close the entire time and never stopped loving you. That’s why I wouldn’t let Tommy tell you I was alive. You were happy, I thought.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the sight of the small gold heart still around your neck that Joel had gotten you for Valentine’s Day before the outbreak. “God, baby.” He reaches out to caress the gold heart until he lets go of it and reaches up to caress your cheek. “Can you shower with me?” He asks, not wanting to let you go just yet.

The request isn’t sexual, but it is intimate. Still, you don’t hesitate to nod. You don’t want to let him go and you can help him clean up. He’s exhausted and worn down. In need of some tenderness, something you can provide. “Let me help you.” You agree quietly.

Joel nods, relieved that he can finally let go of the tension that’s been coiled inside of his body for so long. He stands up, reaching for his belt to remove it and he pushes his tattered jeans down along with the threadbare boxers, standing naked in front of you for the first time in decades.

He’s older, softer slightly than he had been when he was in his thirties, but he’s still handsome. His body had somehow gotten broader, there’s still strength rather than weakness. You stand up and slowly start to undress yourself. Still watching him as he keeps his eyes on you. Your heart beating faster and your body tingling.

He watches you strip off and his stomach twists. You’re still so fucking gorgeous. Still so incredibly out of his league. You kick your clothes aside and reach in to check the water temperature. Joel groans as he steps into the shower, the hot water hitting his back and he watches blood and dirt swirl down the drain. “Let me clean off first.” He tells you, not wanting you to be in the dirty water.

You smile and just watch. Feeling yourself starting to get wet. This is the man you have longed to touch again for the past twenty years. The man you’ve loved for all that time. Your attraction to him hasn’t faded, it’s still as sharp as it was the last time you touched him, the day you made JJ. Joel groans slightly and his cock twitches, making you aware that you had been staring at it.

Joel watches you as you watch him, washing his hair as more grime flows down the drain. When he's certain he's clean, he reaches for you. "Come here, baby." He murmurs, helping you into the shower. He turns so you are under the water, and he reaches for the soap to wash you, his calloused hands gentle as he rubs your skin

“I should be washing you.” You murmur softly in protest, but Joel just huffs and continues to touch you. You can’t help the small groan of pleasure, always loving how he touched you and it’s been sorely missed since you had been apart.

"I have missed out on far too much. Leaving you in that truck...I should've tried harder to save you. Maybe Sarah would still be alive if I had." He voices a thought that has haunted him since he found out you are alive. "I've lost so much time with you...with JJ."

“I never blamed you.” You promise, reaching up and caressing his shoulders. “You did the best you could that night. You were - you didn’t run off because you were afraid. I know you didn’t want to leave me, baby.”

Joel sighs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours while the hot water hits your back. “I still love you. Never stopped.” He confesses, his hands caressing your back, pulling you closer so you are pressed against him. His cock is half hard between you, pressing against your hip.

“I still love you too.” You promise. “I told you, it’s always been you, baby.” You close your eyes and sigh, enjoying the closeness between you. “Do you want to get some rest? I know you have to be exhausted. You and Ellie are safe now, you can sleep.”

"Yeah." His voice is gruff, rough with lust for you. "I want - I want you first. If you want that." He sounds unsure but he doesn't want to push you into anything.

Your cunt clenches and you nod. “I want you too.” You confess. “Let’s go to bed. I want you to relax and let me ride you again. Like the last time.”

Joel nods, reaching behind you to shut off the water and he twists so he can grab a towel, wrapping you in it before grabbing his own to dry off. He feels so much better now that he's clean and he's exhausted but he also wants you. He needs you.

You set out a tooth brush for Joel, knowing that it feels amazing after being able to brush your teeth and you quickly grab your own. You’re sure that after you have sex, Joel will fall asleep.

He grabs the toothbrush, scrubbing his teeth until he feels satisfied that they are clean. He looks at you in the mirror, watching you do the same thing and it's like a flashback to a time when getting ready was a normal occurrence between you. He spits and rinses his mouth and you do the same. When you turn off the faucet, he cups your cheeks and leans in to kiss you, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

You whimper into his mouth. Not caring that you are still in towels, you turn to guide him back to the bedroom. Wanting to feel him inside you again. Groaning and reaching for the towel at his waist so you can pull it off him. “I love you.” You gasp when he pulls back.

Joel caresses your back, ripping the towel from your body to toss it to the floor and he spins to lay you down on the bed. He's been gone for so long, there's not enough kisses he can press to your skin to make up for his absence, for leaving you. He kisses you again, hovering over your body, and he migrates his kisses down your neck. Pressing a kiss to the gold of your necklace, he continues his journey until he's taking your nipple into his mouth.

It’s been a long time since your breasts carried milk, but you feel as if Joel is trying to feed from you. Moaning, you sink your fingers into his wet hair and arch your back to let him explore as he wants.

He sucks on your nipple, biting and licking at the bud until he’s satisfied and he kisses down your stomach. Lathing extra attention on the faded stretch marks that display where you carried his son inside of you. “Fuck, I love you.” He chokes, pushing your thighs apart so he can settle between them.

"Joel." You shiver in anticipation. It's been a long goddamn time since you've had pleasure that didn't come at your own fingertips, over twenty years. Oral had been a favorite of yours and Joel had always been amazing at eating pussy. "Baby, you don't have to- I know you are tired."

“I want to.” He promises, leaning in to nudge his nose at the neatly trimmed curls at the apex of your thighs. He breathes you in and caresses your thighs, leaning closer to slide his tongue through your folds. He groans at the familiar heady taste of your arousal, and he lifts his gaze to watch you as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

With a groan, your head slips back on the pillow a little, already overstimulated by just the first licks of his tongue. "Oh shit." You whimper, reaching down and running your fingers through his hair as he slowly savors you. Even though things have changed, he's obviously the same when it comes to giving you attention.

He sucks on your clit and slides his tongue lower to push inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit. His hand slides up to squeeze your breast, wanting you to fall apart before you take him inside of you for the first time in twenty years. He loves the way your fingers tug on his hair, still wet from the shower, and he groans into your flesh.

You can’t help the way your hips start to rock down onto his face. Grinding down on his tongue and moaning softly. He squeezes your breast again, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. He remembers how you like a little pain with your pleasure.

Joel curls his tongue inside of you, shaking his head so you are stimulated more. He wants you to cum for him, to make up for lost time. His other hand reaches for yours, squeezing it as he slides his tongue through your folds.

All you hear is your own panting moans and the slick sounds of Joel’s tongue as he laps at your clit. Making you bite your lip and whimper as your orgasm looms close. “Joel-“ you whine. “I’m so close.”

He flicks his tongue over your clit a little faster, wrapping his lips around your clit to send you over the edge. He desperately wants you to cum for him, to taste you again.

You don’t cum with a scream, it’s not ripping through you like a freight train. It floods your body with pleasure and makes your body tighten, shaking silently as you gasp. It’s better than anything you’ve had in so long and your stomach heaves in pleasure.

He works you through it, lapping at your cum, and he loves how you run your fingers through his hair, pulling on it as your hips jerk. "I fucking love you." He murmurs, kissing along your thigh.

Panting quietly, you can’t help but giggle. “I love you too.” You promise. “Do you want to fuck me, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly, greedy for more of him. Ready to feel full and complete for the first time in twenty years.

"I want to fuck you." He murmurs, kissing along your body until he's hovering over you. His lips find yours as he kneels between your legs. He reaches down to squeeze his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he starts to push inside of you.

You would close your eyes, but you want his rugged face etched into your mind. Watching the weathered brow and eyes that have been haunting you as he sinks into you. Your legs hitch up at his waist so he can push deeper, whining softly at the gorgeous stretch of him inside you.

He closes his eyes, taking in the feel of your hot, wet heat surrounding him. He leans in to kiss your chin, his breath mingling with yours. “I love you.” He murmurs, starting to move inside of you.

“I love you too.” You gasp out softly, holding onto his shoulders and giving into the urge to close your eyes. It’s perfect and slow. Both of you are older and you’ve got all the time in the world tonight. There’s just the two of you here. You know JJ will show Ellie her room if you don’t make it back downstairs and all of you are safe here. You’re safe and back together.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time moving inside of you. Yes, he’s overwhelmed with his emotions because you are the love of his life and he’s got you back. He’s back in your arms and he doesn’t plan on leaving. He’s safe. Ellie is safe. He can get to know his son. It’s more than he can handle but he inhales deeply and kisses along your jaw, enjoying the way you caress his back.

You move together, sedately and lovingly. You let him kiss you all over, but you prefer when his lips are pressed against yours and his cock is buried deep inside you. You rock together slowly, and your fingers learn the new scars and marks on your lover’s body.

He’s in no rush but it’s been a while since he was inside someone, especially the woman he loves so much. “I love you, darlin’.” He murmurs again, sliding his hand between you so he can rub your clit.

One his side, he can see all of you. He can touch you as you need him to. Not that you can’t cum from his cock alone but you are happy that he cares about your pleasure. “I love you. I love you so much. Always dreamed of having you back like this.”

Joel groans, rubbing your clit a little faster as your words wash over him. “That’s it, baby. Want you to cum for me.” He murmurs against your chin. He rocks into you a little harder, needing to hear and see you fall apart beneath him.

It’s almost too much, the way he rocks into you and he also touches you. “Joel, Joel.” You moan quietly, starting to shake and quiver under him. “I’m going to cum baby.”

He feels your walls fluttering around his cock and he groans, pushing into you until you’re clenching down around his cock. “That’s it. Fuck, such a good girl for me. Shit, feel so good. So tight.” He coos into your ear and works you through it. His hand drops from your clit and he grabs your hip, shifting to lay down. “Want you to ride me when you can.” He demands, letting you slump against him as you enjoy your orgasm.

You hum, throwing your leg over his waist and shifting to straddle him. “You want me to ride you?” You lean down and press your lips to his as you reach between you and line up with his cock to sink down onto it. You moan his name quietly as the new angle presents a much fuller feeling.

“Fuck.” He pants, his dark eyes taking you in as you start to rock on top of him. “I’ve missed you. I missed you every goddamn night in my dreams. Imagined what could’ve been if it weren’t for the fucking outbreak.” He confesses, sliding his hands up to cup your tits. “Imagined what you’d look like pregnant. Bet you were fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Ha.” You snort and kiss his chin. “I was waddling around. He was a big baby.” You don’t mention how scared you had been, how dangerous it had been for everyone around while you were pregnant. You were slower and ungainly, some of the men overly protective and others wanting to leave you behind. Still, you prevailed. You’re here and that’s where you want to be.

“Wish I had been there to see it. To protect you.” He murmurs, looking at you with sad eyes as his hands slide down to caress your waist, sliding around to squeeze your ass. “I wish I had been there for you.”

“You’re here now.” You remind him softly. “That’s all that matters.” You slowly rock on him, peppering his face with kisses as you caress his arms and chest. “We are together again, that’s all that matters.”

He sighs, knowing he can’t keep dwelling on the past. He knows that. He kisses you, helping you rock on top of him by squeezing your ass. “Want you to cum again for me.” He murmurs, “cum with me.” He demands with a slight whine, wanting you to fall apart around him.

“Still so greedy.” You tease quietly, rocking onto him faster, and feeling the way his cock twitches up inside you. You know that he’s had past lovers before, but you don’t worry about that now. Now, you are with him and you want to do exactly as he wants. You want to cum for him. “Play with my tits.” You beg quietly.

He obeys, his hands cupping your tits. He squeezes them. “Cum for me, baby.” He demands, pinching your nipples. He desperately wants you to cum for him, to feel you clamp down on his cock again.

It takes just a minute more, mouth hanging open slightly and you moan, your walls tightening around him. Soaking him with a wave of your juices as you groan out his name. “Joel! Shit- so good.”

He grunts when you clamp down onto him, making him thrust up into you. You fall forward onto his chest and he hisses when he starts to twitch inside of you. Cum spurts out of his cock to cost your walls and he lets out a strangled groan of your name as he fills you up.

You would have worried about him cumming inside you, fearful of another pregnancy, but you had stopped having a menstrual cycle a few years ago. Instead, you moan softly and close your eyes, pressing your lips to his.

Joel caresses your back, reveling in how you feel around him, above him. “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing that he is finally where he belongs. Back in your arms and he’s safe. Ellie is safe. He doesn’t have to fight anymore. He can stay in Jackson and create a life with you, get to know his son. It’s more than he could’ve ever asked for. He smiles against your lips and you lean back, looking at him. “What?” You chuckle, “nothing. Just - I’m happy.” He confesses and you caress his cheek. “Me too.” You whisper, knowing that nothing will get the time back that you lost out on with Joel but you have him now. Now, you get to be together. The way it was always supposed to be.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #the last of us hbo

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dspectar · 2 months ago

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Oz concocting his plans after continuously getting in situations

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gtgbabie0 · 7 months ago

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-Cregan Stark x reader

{Cregan finds you curled up, sleeping in your shared bedchambers}

Enjoy my lovelies💕

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Lord Stark wasn’t unfamiliar with busy days, the type that consumed all of his attention and energy to only leave him exhausted. The endless amount of problems that seemed to grow with each passing hour, it was a tiring feat that he handled with ease.

His duty to his House and the North was admirable, you often find yourself marvelling at how much care he has for every single minute detail that most seemed to not notice. However, his duty to you was tenfold this… perhaps that is why Cregan decided to end his day earlier than usual.

Making the eager escape back to your shared bedchambers, just the thought of you turns him into a ball of giddiness, hidden behind the rugged nature that exudes him.

He forces himself to slow his movements down as he spots you, curled up in the middle of the bed, against the furs in your cotton nightgown. He silently curses the creaky, heavy, door of your bedchambers, the groan it lets out as he closes it shut causes you to gently stir from your sleep.

“Sorry, my dear.” He whispers brows pinched together as he takes off the furs that drape over his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You shake your head in weak protest to his words, rubbing your eyes with a smile at the feeling of him sitting down on the edge of the bed. He admires you for a moment, how the warm fireplace casts an orangey light over your body, painting you like some sort of goddess.

“I wasn’t sleeping… just resting my eyes.” You whisper through a sleep-laden tone, your gaze meeting his own.

With a chuckle he cups the side of your face, his calloused palm resting against your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the space underneath your eyes.

“Really? Then why are you drooling all over the pillows love?” He teases, lips curled upwards into a smirk.

“I did not!” You gasp and he watches you quickly push yourself to sit up and check the pillows, rolling your eyes with a small huff.

“Maybe just a little.” He whispers, thumbing at the corner of your mouth, wiping away the remnants of a really good nap.

You shoot a playful glare up at him, moulding back into your comfortable position. A sigh escapes your lips as his fingers brush through your hair, his fingertips grazing against your scalp soothingly.

His eyes soften at the way you lean into his touch, how your body seems to completely relax once more. “How long have you been ‘resting your eyes’ for?” He asks, amusement threading through his gentle tone.

“A while… I lost track of time.” You reply with an almost sheepish smile, enjoying the way he begins to play with your hair which has become a little tussled from sleep. “I did try to wait up for you…”

“Hmm, that didn't last too long, did it?” He asks, looking down at you with adoration, his chest blooming with warmth as you nuzzle yourself against the roughness of his hand.

“No… but I did try.” You promise, making space for him as he shuffles closer to you, drawing your body to rest against him.

Cregan props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with a tenderness in his eyes that completely melts you. He watches as you curl up against him whilst he brings the furs over your shoulders to protect you from the harsh winds that continue to howl through the castle.

"I appreciate the effort, my love, but you needn't tire yourself out waiting for me." He responds in a low and soothing tone, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

"You know I would never want you to lose sleep on my account." Cregan continues, letting his lips linger against your forehead. His hand comes to rest against your hip, caressing the curve and dip of your waist.

He has always been so sweet to you, putting you before anything else and never once letting you doubt your place in his heart. It was a shock, especially after the rumours you had heard about him when in reality he was a huge softie... at least to you he is.

A moment of silence passes and he thinks you might’ve fallen back asleep, that is until you’re pulling him back down to steal a sweet kiss, which he is quick to deepen. He hums in contentment against your lips at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair.

“I’ve missed you today.” You whisper against his lips, the kiss tapering off into small loving pecks.

He grins, caressing your cheek as he pulls back slightly to look down at you. “Well… I’m right here now and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.” He replies, his thumb trailing along your bottom lip as he holds your face before capturing your lips once more.

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I need him!

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 8 months ago

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Perfect. | joel miller x f!reader drabble, 1.6k

Summary: You're full of Joel, but you need him in your mouth, too. Joel delivers.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens is discussed and consensual, cursing, praise kink, size kink, degradation kink, unprotected p in v, minor anal play, nipple play, reader is obsessed with Joel's fingers, hair pulling, (1) ass slapping, manhandling, gagging kink, deepthroat, free use at the end, facial, cum eating, belated aftercare, as always, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: There's not much to say, this is pure filth, just to cleanse my palette of all the anguish I've brought upon myself! It was written on a whim, so here goes 👀

P.S.: I don't need to remind you how much I hate summaries. I hate them. OK, ily all, bye!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Fuck, you feel so good-” Joel pants between your breasts as you take him deep inside you, riding him, “uuuuuh, perfect- fuck- perfect little pussy-” He’s so big, you feel him in your belly. Your cunt is stretched to its limit but you’re so wet from all the orgasms he pulled out of you before impaling you on his hard cock, that he slides inside you with ease.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the soft carpet beneath him. His hands cradle your ass, kneading it and maneuvering you up and down on his thick cock, while you lock your hands around his neck for leverage.

His fingertips glide lightly over your asshole as he holds you open and stretched in his palms, feeling your tight ring of muscle clench on his digits. His lower belly and balls are soaked in your arousal, the hairs on his base glued together by your sticky slick. Your clit rubs against them every time you roll your hips.

Joel runs his big calloused palms up your back, sending shivers down your spine and as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your breasts closer to his face, he cups them, pinching your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You look down at his hands as he continues to arouse your tits and the sight makes your clit twitch and your cunt clench around him.

His wet tongue enters the game, flicking it up and down over your erect nubs, sending jolts of pleasure through your body and your thighs begin to tremble both from exhaustion and arousal.

Your fingers run through his hair, tugging gently. He moans as his hand comes down hard on your asscheek. You whimper at the spreading pain, your cunt gushing around his cock, the lewd sounds of your joined sexes only making it more obvious.

You fuck him so good and hard, sucking him deep inside you, you start creaming around him.

You become obsessed with his hands. Big, strong, veined and tanned, with tiny freckles, his fingers calloused and skillful; their expert touch, always bring you to completion.

“I wanna suck your fingers. Please..” you coo into his ear, your hands tugging desperately at the unruly curls at the back of his head.

“Mhhhh..yeah?” Joel turns his head towards you, his aquiline nose pressing against your cheek.

Your grip on him tightens as you continue to bounce on his cock, your voice laced with need and lust, “Please, Joel..”

Joel grants your wish and moves a palm away from your breast but doesn’t bring it to your mouth. Instead, he snakes it between your bodies, collecting your arousal from his slick-coated base. He’s going to be the death of you.

He brings his shiny fingers to your face allowing you to take the lead, go on, then. Milky strings of your slick create little webs connecting his digits together.

You encircle his wrist with your delicate fingers and bring his palm to your nose, smelling the combination of your juices and his musk, making your eyes roll. “You dirty little thing..” he mutters to himself, smirking as he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the otherwise silent room.

You open your eyes and slowly wrap your lips around his middle and ring fingers, swirling your tongue around the tips as you would his cock head. “Fuck.” he grunts through his teeth and you feel him twitch inside you, his breath stuttering. You hollow out your cheeks and suck them into your warm mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them, your eyes never leaving his.

“You like that, babygirl? Suckin’ my fingers like you do my cock?”

“Mmhmm..” you all but moan, your face wrecked from the intensity of the moment.

“Wanna gag on them?” Fuck yes.

“Mhhhh” you whine now, sucking even harder to make a point. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth as his cock pushes deeper into you, stroking that sweet spot that only he can reach. He presses on your gag reflex, making you gag and your eyes water. Your grip on his wrist is firm, making sure his fingers stay in your mouth.

“Such a fuckin’ whore f’ me, aren’t you? Stuffing your holes full ’a me, huh?” You clench violently around him, almost to the point of coming, your breath coming in short pants. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear “Maybe I should stuff your tight little hole with my other hand, I bet you’d like me in there, too. I bet you’d take me so well, yeah?”

His dirty talk drives you wild and you arch your spine again, moaning around his fingers but he quickly withdraws them, strings of saliva briefly connecting your lips to his tips and you whimper at the loss.

He lowers his slick fingers to tap quickly but gently on your swollen clit. You cry out at the stimulation, waves of electricity rippling through your body. “Gonna come on my cock baby? Yeah..” he breathes, his eyes fixed on your face, contorted with pleasure, “Yeah, you are.”

That does it; you come so hard, spasming around his stiff length, making a mess on his lap. Joel stops fucking into you, staying buried to the hilt inside you, feeling the tight grip of your cunt choking him in rhythm.

“That’s it, thaaat’s it, look at me, baby, fuck- fuckmmphh- this perfect cunt-” Joel keeps guiding you through your orgasm, biting where your neck meets your shoulder.

Your mouth is slack from the force of your release but it feels so empty and before you come down completely you are begging for him. “I need you in my mouth, Joel- I need you to fill me with your cum, please Joel, please..” you beg deliriously.

“Christ, baby.” Joel grits his teeth and pulls you off his lap and his hard member, forcing you onto your knees and shoving his cock into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your hair. He can't deny you when you beg so prettily.

The taste is heavenly. Tasting yourself on him as you breathe in his heady scent makes your head spin with desire. “That’s it, gag on it.” he says as he focuses on his shaft, veiny, swollen and shiny, disappearing into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

He knows. He sees it all in your eyes, you’re so far gone, surrendered to your pleasure and his. Joel begins to fuck your throat in deep, sharp thrusts, his thighs tensing and bulging under your palms. He rests his hand around your throat, feeling it bulge under his fingertips.

You’re utterly ruined. Your eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears, and your lips are stretched and swollen as you drool around him. Your face is coated in sweat, saliva and your arousal. You can taste your cum and his pre-cum on your tongue, along with every ridge and vein of his erection. You just kneel there, between his legs like a toy, letting him take and give what you both need.

“Fuck, look at you. Look at you, my sweet girl, choking on this big cock.”

You don’t react, you just sit there, pliant and doe-eyed and take it; content and worry-free. You make it so hard for him to hold back any longer. He’s about to come and he has this irresistible urge to ruin that innocent, fucked out look on your face.

He pulls his cock out of your mouth and jerks furiously over your face, his biceps flexing from the effort, his other hand firmly gripping your hair to maneuver you as he pleases. You look up at him in total surrender, tongue out, longing for what’s to come.

His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw is slack and his mouth is open in that perfect shape that his plush lips form, as he breathes heavily. His broad torso, covered in both yours and his sweat, rises and falls rapidly, his muscles flexing deliciously under his skin.

He comes and comes with a deep, guttural moan all over your face; your forehead, your eyelashes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, everything is marked by his thick, warm, milky cum. Your cunt flutters at this act of degradation and possession.

“Don’t open them; it’ll sting.” you hear him say while catching his breath, referring to your closed eyes and your cum-coated lashes. You do as he says and wait behind the darkness of your closed eyelids for him to take care of you. But Joel just sits there, admiring his handiwork as he comes down from his high.

You can hear his heavy breathing and the lack of sight is the only thing that makes you realize he’s human, like you. This otherwise divine creature is human.

“Let’s clean you up.” you finally hear him say as you feel his thumb wipe his now cold and dry cum from your skin, press it gently against your lips and feed it to you. You swallow every last drop of it, your tongue warm and welcoming around his digit. He leaves your eyes last.

When he’s finished, he holds the sides of your face with his palms, taking a good look at your submissive form, resting his forehead against yours.

You slowly open your eyes as he plants soft kisses all over your face. “Perfect..” you hear him murmur, more to himself than to you.

“Perfect and mine.”

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chronically-ghosted · 23 days ago

Text

i'm empty without you, so come grow within me

AO3 Link | main masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

rating: explicit (18+)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 9K

summary: with winter approaching, joel takes stock of what he wants and what he has in his life. he wants you, but he's not quite sure he has you, not in a way that only a life in Jackson can afford. joel's an old-fashioned guy, so he's looking for an old-fashioned love . . . if he can only remember how to do it right.

inspired by the songs 'why don't we just dance' by Josh Turner and 'the kind of love we make' by Luke Combs, this fulfills a request from @handsomehelmet for my 1k celebration (creativity struck and now i'm going to make it everyone's problem)

warnings: the nastiest thing i can possibly imagine which is romance and sincerity, some willie nelson lyrics, established situationship, no age of reader specified, body insecurity, feelings of unworthiness/shame, survivor's guilt, blatant disregard for old man knees by eating pussy on the floor, unprotected piv, a teenager bullying fully grown adult to quit being stupid.

a/n: i know everyone gets into a tizzy when Joel doesn’t name what Tess is to him in front of Bill and while there probably was a heaping amount of guilt that accompanied that omission, i wonder if it might be a bit more complicated: he simply couldn’t name one thing because she was all things to him. A friend, a lover, a guide, a support system, a protector, a partner. So he says it the best way he can: “she’s mine.”

come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

By the fourth bag, all you can think about is a warm shower.

A chance to scrub away the dirt smeared on your arms, your neck, probably your face. You’d brought your own work gloves to bag fresh dirt for the greenhouse, but the longer you work, more sprinkles of dirt find their way down the lip of your gloves. You can feel it against your palms, under your nails. The cold winter air lurks beneath the crack of the door, stifled from invading by the artificial heat provided by the generator just outside, and it stifles you too with its oppressive weight. You’re fairly sure the dirt on your forehead has turned to mud, sweat and damp earth encrusted on your dry skin.

By the sixth, you doubt your shoulders will ever move again without popping.

You know Joel’s already do.

Never a particularly chatty man even in his best moods, the greenhouse had become stuffy with heat and silence, both you and Joel too lost in the work to find the energy to even fake idle chatter. But, knowing this about Joel and a certain degree yourself, silences with him were never a bad thing. That was one of the things you enjoyed most about being with him; you two could do your own things together. Many snowy days were spent with him stretched out on the couch, reading, and you working on writing your sheet music on the floor, his knee hovering over your shoulder with your back to the cushions – spent in total silence, and they are some of the fondest memories you had since coming to Jackson and falling into the third and final piece of the Miller-Williams household.

Like with the end of the world, you weren’t sure how you got there until everything had fallen into place around you; Joel and his adoptive daughter had been just another group who were taken in by the town of Jackson . . . until they weren’t. Ellie was just another foul-mouthed kid who had seen too much and had too much taken from her . . . until she wasn’t. Joel was your occasional patrol partner and a fellow Willie Nelson fan. . . until he wasn’t.

Until that unmistakable line, one that seemed to be lost on a global scale beneath the blood and the gore and the grief, had been crossed when he asked you out for drinks and the both of you knew the evening wasn’t going to end in a nightcap.

And then you were partners, even outside of patrol. Partners in re-enforcing a weakened part of Jackson’s outer walls. Partners in cooking, attempting to recreate an enchilada recipe Joel only vaguely remembered from a Tex-Mex hole-in-the-wall fifteen minutes from where he used to live in Austin. Partners when it’s snowing heavily outside and there’s not much to do except to read and, well . . . Joel was a fantastic partner in that.

Joel Miller was a great partner for a lot of things. He worked diligently, quickly and, unless the conversation was started by someone else, silently.

He, in short, was not someone who was easily distracted.

Which, in combination with your own exhaustion and a desire to scrub the first layer of your skin off with a loofah, is why you feel a flare of annoyance when you look up and see him staring off into the distance. His fingers loosely grip the handle of the shovel, his palm resting over the curved point, Joel’s expression is nearly unreadable, except for the small crevice between his eyebrows. He stands, fixated on the greenhouse wall, as if watching the blurry Christmas lights from the town square, suddenly oblivious to the work you two have been doing for the past hour and a half.

“Joel.” Nothing. “Joel!”

You raise your hand to smack him on the leg when, without looking down, he asks:

“When was the last time I took you out?”

“What?”

His weight shifts, holds the shovel by one hand now. You catch a sliver of frustration in those deep brown eyes as he looks at you. He wears what you and Ellie secretly refer to as his “pouty-mouth”, a classic expression when he isn’t getting his way about something but won’t draw attention to the fact that it annoys him.

“Tell me about the last date I took you on.”

You huff, standing up with a pop in your hips. Your knees are aching from kneeling on the cold winter ground and your skin fluxes between overheating under your jacket and stiffly frozen on your extremities.

“Joel, c’mon, be serious. We’ve got three more –,”

“I am being serious.” Dumb-founded, you watch as he digs the tip of the shovel into the ground with a hollow chunk. Crosses his arms and continues to frown at you like you just suggested doing away with the Christmas holiday entirely. “We’ll get to this, but I want you to tell me right now what we did on our last date.”

You roll your eyes, humoring him. “Fine, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but okay. On our last date, we . . . we did . . . you took me to . . .”

It’s your turn to frown. He raises a petulant eyebrow and it’s eerie how many times you’ve seen that exact expression on Ellie.

“Okay, fine, so it’s been a while. We’ve been busy – we’ve all been busy with the winter season coming. All of Jackson has been out battening down the hatches. What does it matter if we’ve let things slide a bit?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, quiet in his Joel way. He glances out through the blurred greenhouse glass and maybe he was actually staring at the string lights hung over Jackson’s square. Normally, you didn’t mind being unable to dissect his every expression, every sigh, every carefully wielded silence, but when it came to you and his feelings about you – feelings that were always implied in those silences – you wished you had a little window, some hint, as to what rumbled on behind those earth-dark eyes.

Joel drums his fingers on the handle of the shovel, unease rolling through his body as he shifts his weight.

“Matters some,” he tells the ground. “With the holidays comin’ around . . . matters for Ellie – her first winter here in Jackson. Matters for Tommy, with that new baby of his . . .”

“Your nephew,” you supply as much as prod. Sometimes the only way to get an honest answer out of him was when he was just a bit pissed off and less guarded. Instead he just nods, gloved hand on his hip, thick jacket widening his already confounding broadness.

“It matters because it’s important. To me. It’s important to me.”

He meets your gaze and you’re struck full force again with that feeling like you drank too much of the Tipsy Bison’s shitty whiskey too fast. Same feeling that couldn’t be drowned even with the Tipsy Bison’s shitty whiskey when you shared a drink with him for the first time. When you managed to laugh when he bet you a whole day of stable cleaning duties that Willie Nelson and Chris Stapleton survived the apocalypse somewhere in a shack in Tennessee. Joel Miller was disarmingly funny when he wanted to be.

And even worse, disarmingly sincere.

You take his gloved hand in yours. You feel the sensation of his fingers threading through yours but not the heat you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“Alright, then. What do you want to do about it?” You ask quietly, to the upturned collar around his neck, his green flannel peeking out from behind the zipper of his jacket. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s a lot of snow on the ground so that makes our options for date night kinda limited.” You scrunch your nose at him because you like to see the light in his eyes bloom when you do.

He chuckles, a rumbling sound, and he drops his forehead against yours, fingers tightening their grip around yours. Suddenly in your throat, your heart pounds. He’s never this affectionate in public. Maybe it’s those miraculously blurred greenhouse glass walls.

His breath smells like that peppermint toothpaste that came in last week, infused with the warming-coil smell from the greenhouse.

“Dunno yet.” He admits. “I’ll think of somethin’.”

“No ideas yet?” You raise your eyebrows against his forehead and he grins, shaking his head.

“Not yet.”

“Then can I make a suggestion?”

“‘Course.”

“We finish bagging this dirt, then head home for a shower. In a really sexy way, obviously.”

He huffs, smothering a laugh, and quick as lightning he kisses you on the cheek. But in the same movement, steps away and grabs the shovel again. You don’t have time to react to the fact he just kissed you for the first time outside of the four walls of his house before he’s scooping up dirt. You drop to your knees to pick up the bag again, your legs already weak.

“We both know you’re going to pass out on the couch the second we’re home.”

Your voice is steadier than you feel, as you look up at him. His face is flushed and that worry line between his eyes is gone.

“You got me pegged, Miller. You got me pegged.”

Two days later, he stands in the middle of his living room, hands on his hips, surveying his handiwork. All of the furniture has been pushed to the far ends of the room, up against the walls or against the staircase out in the hallway. He’s kept the overhead lights off and put the standing lamps in the corners, bathing the room in a despondent glow. He thinks, after a quarter of a century never even entertaining something like this, it might be interpreted as romantic. He hopes you’ll see it that way at least.

He hears it now, in his head, even though she’s out in the disconnected garage, snug and warm as he could have possibly made it – you worry too much, old man.

Ellie knows there’s something going on between you two. Hell, the entire town has cottoned onto whatever this is; you’re often seen leaving his house early in the morning, and he’s been seen on occasion strolling up to your house with flowers. It’s not new, it’s not a secret, but it is . . . it just is and that’s about as far as he’s gotten.

He hasn’t had you over for dinner with Ellie in that very specific way that very much needs to happen, as it often does when there is a new presence added to an established dynamic – as Maria often reminds him. But that almost feels like presenting your head on a silver plate to Ellie to either sniff with disinterest or tear into – both terrifying scenarios, even though they seem unlikely. Ellie does in fact seem to like you very much, as her riding teacher and occasional greenhouse buddy. But would she continue to like you in the context of you being one half of “You and Him” as a pair? Together. As a couple . . . of people who are seeing each other, whatever that means in a world filled with the most aggressive form of fungus imaginable.

This life in Jackson, this fragile second chance to remember and rekindle his own natural instincts, is too precious to bet on a question like that.

So he doesn’t ask it. At least not out loud.

That’s one of the things he likes so much about you: his silences aren’t entirely indecipherable and often are encouraged by your own. Except this silence about this particular thing doesn’t feel like one of your shared, comfortable moments and instead it’s encroaching rapidly into avoidance.

Standing in that greenhouse and seeing the string lights over the town square reminded him of a long ago Christmas, dancing with his favorite person under a Christmas tree, and how good it made him feel. How special it made him feel. All these years later, safe in a way his body has almost forgotten, there’s an urge he has to share that feeling, to recreate it under entirely different circumstances, with someone new. Someone else. To not try and fight the smile that constantly threatens to buoy up every time he’s around you.

It’s foreign, that feeling in his chest, but it’s not entirely alien, at least not of late.

He knows he’s white-knuckling it because he knows firsthand how painfully quick it can all be gone. Taken away. Left and buried by a black river while the world burns.

But he’s worried he’ll crush it with how tightly he holds on. How hard he begs a silent universe for it to last just a little bit longer.

His knees ache, his left shoulder goes tight when it rains, his body is not what it once was, but his mind is still there, still clear, and he remembers how romance used to feel, where it used to reside in his younger body, and as he stares out at the cleared room, listening to your footsteps overhead as you attempt to follow his vague instructions to “make yourself feel pretty” (because you already were to him, even covered in dirt and sawdust), he thinks this feels like the old world. An old world romance. It’s foreign, that feeling, but for the first time in a long time he doesn’t want to hold it at arm’s length.

“Joel?” You call from the top of the stairs, your voice tentative and cautious. But not cautious like you peeking around a corner to look for clickers. But cautious as in unsure, doubtful. You are a woman made up of a lot of things, with foundations unlike he’d ever seen before, but doubt is not a part of you. You never doubt him.

“Yeah, baby?” Your nerves make him nervous and he futzes with a lampshade while waiting for you.

“Are you done down there?”

He has to breathe slowly through the fluttering beneath his breastbone before he can answer. “Yeah, baby, all finished. You can come down now.”

“Okay . . . but you can’t laugh.” Him, laugh at you? There’s the instinct to smother the faint grin that spreads out across his mouth, but he told himself he wasn’t going to fight whatever came across his face tonight. If you see it, then you see it and he’s come to accept that.

(Maybe even want that.)

He shakes his head, his only pair of nice boots (a thank you from a former rancher when Joel fixed his family’s heater) clicking on the hardwood floor as he stands at the bottom of the stairs. You must be hiding behind the wall because he can’t see you.

“I’m not gonna laugh, sweetheart. Why d’ya think I’d laugh?”

Silence faces him at the top of the stairs, and then:

“Because quite frankly I forgot my tits could look like this and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

The snort that comes out of him is a poor attempt to muffle the chuckle. He thumbs the wood finial at the top of the bannister.

“Can’t remember ever having any complaints before and I don’t think I’ll have ‘em now, no matter how they look.”

“Whatever, Miller, you’re just a horn dog.”

He rolls his eyes, fingers rubbing anxiously together at his side, as if he could tug the fluttering out of his chest. He leans on the other foot, the one with the bad knee, to adjust the slightly uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. A dark swirl in the second step of the stairs has become wildly interesting.

“Baby, just come down here. I’m not gonna laugh. Promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” you grumble, still out of sight. “I know where you keep your feral child and I will not hesitate to let her loose on you.”

Joel nods, grinning faintly, still focused resolutely on the whorl in the floor. “That’s a real big threat from someone who –,”

The words die in his throat.

In fact, he’s quite sure he won’t be capable of speech for a very long time.

That foreign feeling – that feeling he’s worked for twenty years to suppress – is ignited in his chest.

You walk, no, maybe you float down the stairs in the most stunning red dress he’s ever seen. It’s definitely not yours – he knows every inch of your closet because he had inspected it studiously when you offered to keep some of his clothes at your place and he was trying very hard to delay putting a handful of his belongings beside a woman’s things in a move that felt heart-stoppingly domestic.

No, he has never, ever seen you in this dress.

Come to think of it, he’s never seen you in any dress and you were entirely correct that your tits look wildly different. Fantastically different, but –

“Maria didn’t have any heels that fit me to go with the dress,” you announce airily, your chin up. But your eyes dart over his face as if looking for something you need to find. “But it’s fourteen degrees outside, Joel, and I’m not doing whatever this is in just socks because that’s ridiculous so you’re just going to have to deal with the boots.”

The Boots. The ones you wear while crushing clicker skulls and tending the stables. They still bear damp spots from where you tried to clean the blood and dirt from the leather.

It’s rather incapacitating how arousing he finds this particular combination.

So much so, he doesn’t realize he hasn’t said anything in a full minute until you bark at him, a cold tinge of panic in your voice.

“Joel!” His eyes snap to yours. Of course, you’re fucking beautiful – your eyes seem bigger, cheeks pinker, mouth wet – fucking Christ, where did you get make up?

“Say something!” Those rosy lips drop down and to his horror, you’re upset. “Please!”

“B-baby, you look . . .” He doesn’t mean to grab your entire ass in one hand; he just wants to feel as much of that velvet on your skin as possible. You stumble into his arms, another something that is so unlike you, as he tugs you forward. Bends his lips to your ear to discover how fast you’re breathing. How fast your pulse races in your neck. The shudder that breaks the rigidity of your body when he brushes his mouth, the short bristles of his beard, against your skin is no surprise; you told him exactly what that sensation does to you in no uncertain terms the first night he ate you out on the table of your kitchen. “You look incredible.”

Your fingers bite into his biceps. Push back out of his arms, despite the obvious warmth in your cheeks. You level his arousal in a single glare. “Joel, I asked you not to tease.”

Tommy once told him he was a pain in the ass to be around sometimes because he displays every negative emotion as anger and so it’s damn near impossible to figure out whatever it was he was so bent out of shape about.

Sadness as anger.

Shame as anger.

Guilt as anger.

Fear as anger.

With your fingers balled up, it's the tremor in your fists that gives you away.

He had genuinely intended this to be a quiet night away from the cafeteria, away from the Tipsy Bison, away from anyone else. He wanted you all to himself and in his greed, he didn’t see it until he saw it in your eyes.

How vulnerable being pretty made you. How vulnerable privacy made you.

How being vulnerable made you so deeply, deeply afraid.

Almost as afraid as he was.

Without a word, he turns to the record player, strategically hidden behind the couch and puts on the carefully selected record. The silent scratches for a moment before –

Your eyes widen as Nelson begins to sing his most beautiful love song (in Joel’s humble opinion). Your shoulders slacken, hands lose their grip, you blink up at him in total bewilderment. You aren’t an indecisive person, you’re quick as a whip, rarely confused – so this befuddled look on your face is kinda cute.

Tucking that rare look on your face away for another time, Joel wanders to the center of the room, in the heat of the light from the fireplace, his good boots clicking over the wood. He opens his arms, hand out to you.

“Let’s try something new tonight.”

I'll always be with you for as long as you please

For I am the forest but you are the trees

The decision you make is a visible one.

Your palm is warm, weighted as it slides over his. This time his hand respectably settles on your waist, then on your low back when (to his surprise) you come closer. He’s delighted to watch you smile at him, distantly aware of the stretch of his own on his face.

Willie strums on his guitar, crooning softly, the sound warm and deep. With the weight of you against his chest, that feeling crackles like the flames over the wood logs in the fireplace. You drop your head, turn your cheek, and just before you come to rest on his shoulder, he sees your smile slide into a smirk.

“New, huh? What’s new look like for a sixty-five-year-old man at the end of the world?” Even with teasing, your voice is soft and sweet, the soft powder of cinnamon. Slowly, as if not to startle either one of you, he leans his chin against your forehead.

“You n’ I’ve been burning both ends, keepin’ the lights on. New to us is having a goddamn break.” His voice is low, meant only for you, and in the tremble of his deep bass, the words elongate in his mouth. He brings your intertwined hands just under his chin and when that goes well, he tightens his grip around your back, drawing you flush against him. It reduces the dancing to more of a sway but Joel can’t find a single thing to complain about. You gently tap the pad of your middle finger in the hollow of his collarbone to the beat of the song.

I'm empty without you so come grow within me

For I am the forest and you are the trees

And the heavens need romance so love never dies

“‘N ‘m only fifty-six, jackass.”

You grin, twisting in his grasp, rub your nose on his chest to wrap your arms around his neck. He clutches to your back like a key finding its lock.

You'll be the stars dear and I'll be the sky

And should any of this find us let them all be forewarned

That you are the thunder and I am the storm

“This is nice, Joel,” you murmur in his ear. The backs of his arms are growing warm by the fire. He presses his lips to your exposed shoulder, unsure of what to say, or what not to say, only nodding. He closes his eyes, trying to hold this moment forever in his memory. The soft flare of your waist, the winged-spread of your ribs, beneath his hands brings him back into your arms.

"Yeah?" Quiet, into your skin as if to muffle the question entirely, to muffle the unsure wobble in his voice. "It's good?"

He feels you nod beneath his chin, the smell of fresh soap escaping from the back of your neck, and the clamp around his throat loosens. He breathes, unimpeded for the first time all night, a low exhale taking the tension from his body as the air leaves his lungs.

Relief. A sinking down into the moment, into your arms.

You chuckle with your cheek against his chest and he feels the vibrations down to his stomach.

"Yeah, Joel, you did good. Really good." With the hand he holds in the air, you rub your thumb over the knuckle of his thumb, soothing. It used to bother him you could read the lines of his emotions as well as you read a book, as well as you write your own name, effortlessly, as if you had been given a guide no one ever thought to show him. But now, now that you understand how much this means to him, that you know he needs to be told he made you happy, it's more than relief. It's an unburying – a resuscitation of pieces of himself (seed-like bone fragments) that he thought had long since died in the soil of his ribs. "Thank you. I needed this."

He wants you to see the whole of him. Lift up an antiquated silver plate and show you the dents and scratches in his reflection. When you kiss his cheek gently, the hope floating in his chest flares, a solar explosion with tendrils that reach into the blackness of space and it asks him, what would you do to keep her?

Everything. Anything.

He shuffles closer, feels the warmth of your body lined up against his, the clean scent beneath the edge of your jaw blooming in his nose and throat. The hope hums, pitches dark like the forest floor in the rain, and grows teeth. His want for you digs into his skin and evolves into a needy, unsatisfied thing.

“Where’d you get this dress, hm?” He asks, lips half an inch from your shoulder. It falls and rises, never catching on your skin as he plays with the fabric. He runs his palm up your spine, the velvet coming with him, and watches as the swell of your thighs and the tease of your ass is revealed. Dirty old man. “‘N who do I have to kill to get you to keep it?”

You laugh into his neck. He wonders if you’re intentionally twisting his curls at the base of his neck to send sparks of arousal down his spine or if you are completely unaware of the cause of his insanity. Your hands are littered with scars and calluses and every time you touch him, he could melt through the floorboards.

“They found it in some strip mall and were actually going to strip it down for material. But Aaron at the sewing center owed me a favor and you said wear something nice, so . . .” You thumb the lip of his collar, your fingertips brushing the knot of his spine every time you drag your fingers back and forth.

And I'll always be with you for as long as you please

For I am the forest and you are the trees

He knows you well enough to know that something lingers in your mind, but even after all this time, even after what he’s seen with you, been through with you, the things he’s done to you – he isn’t quite sure if he has the right to ask.

Instead, he squeezes you. He means to do it just with his hands, but ends up swallowing you in his arms.

Your mouth is pressed up against his chest when you finally go on.

“It just seems silly to keep, Joel.”

The high he’s been riding on all night falters, since you first walked down those stairs to him. Your eyes are wet when he pulls back and cups you by your cheek. He stops swaying with you.

“Why’s that?”

There it is, that all too familiar flicker of fear. You can’t look at him, despite his every touch, his every glance pulling you into him, to be near him.

“Because other people should have it. They should have a chance to . . .”

You withdraw your head from his hands, his thumb brushing your jaw as you retreat. He might actually lose a piece of himself if you let go now, but instead you clasp his wrists in your fingers. You stare at your hands and his between you, as if this whole thing between you could solidify at your feet, finally real.

Willie has stopped singing, only that musky drone on an empty track.

“Someone else should have a chance to feel pretty, to feel this way, because it shouldn’t be wasted and I’m afraid – I wonder if –,”

He knows he’s being a bit too rough when he takes your jaw and straightens your gaze to him, but his heart might fly out of his chest before he has a chance to say anything. His stomach turns, not knowing he’s not at the peak of a roller coaster drop, that he’s standing on solid ground, even if it swims under his feet.

“What you feel is not wasted.” A murmur, stern, as steadily and as serious as he possibly can be.

That feeling aches in his chest and you haven’t even gone anywhere. You haven’t left . . . yet. “What this is, is not wasted time. I spent twenty years wasting time, looking for something that wasn’t there, and with you . . . I can’t say I’ve found it –,”

“Why? Why can’t you say you’ve found it?” Your grip around his wrists tightens, eyes hard. “Why can’t you name it, Joel?”

“Can you?” He pulls his hands out of your grip and you let him go. “How can you ask for what you want when you can’t even ask to keep this dress?”

“Because I don’t deserve it!” It’s not silence that follows; it’s emptiness. You face away from him, pressing the heel of your hand into your brow bone, teeth slightly bared. Your arm bars across your stomach like you are literally holding in your guts. Finally, you lift your head, the few scant tears on your face sparkling in the firelight. “I don’t deserve you, Joel. I don’t deserve any of this. Ellie, the way she . . . I’m here, warm and happy, acting like the fucking world hasn’t ended. Playing house, playing pretend. Pretending like I’m your –,”

You swallow the words caught in your throat, gaze leaping away from him. At your side, your hand trembles again.

Oh, honey, the shit I’ve done . . .

With wide, wet eyes, you watch him approach. He doesn’t look at you, instead seeing exactly where he’d like to put his lips on your stomach beneath the fabric.

“Then what do you want, hm?” There’s a fold in the front of the dress and he runs his fingers along the edge of it. “We can’t fix it. Can’t go back ‘cause there’s nothin' to go back to. I don’t care what you had to do to get here, right here, with me because I’m so fuckin’ glad you are. I’m not pretending, not wasting my time, never was. ‘Cause you’re right.”

Your hand over his stills his endless roving and then it stays, scarred hand over scarred hand. Your gesture says something to him, something so meaningful he has no idea how to put it into words. He swallows his attempt and instead, slowly, drags both hands over your hips, where they stay. Heavy against the velvet.

You rest your own against his forearms, neither pulling him in or pushing him back.

“I was right about what?”

His eyes flick to yours and maybe it’s presumptuous, maybe he really is an old man afraid of his feelings, or maybe living this long – despite everything that ever tried to make it otherwise – living this long has granted him the privilege of knowing with perfect clarity what you’re thinking when you look at him like that. How he wants to whisper it back to you and he decides he will the next time your skin is warm and tacky, body helpless beneath his.

Your eyes shamelessly track the brush of his tongue against his bottom lip.

“That you’re mine. Just like I’m yours.”

The hands at his forearms glide up to his chest. The rims of your irises have gone a bit blurred, a bit unstable, and you can’t decide whether to look at his mouth or his eyes.

“Joel?” Suddenly breathy, all begging, pleading.

“Hm?”

“Get me out of this fucking dress.”

When your lips crash into his, his entire world narrows down to where on his body, yours touches:

your rough hand cradling his cheek, the other fisting the collar of his shirt. His fingers digging into your skirt, the heat from your thigh nearly driving him to tear straight through the fabric to get to you. Your sweet, perfect mouth smeared against his, lips puffed pink, nose to your cheek.

That warm, wet cunt he thinks he can feel through his boxers, jeans, the dress and your underwear.

It’s not enough.

The cry you let out is some mangled mix of a moan and his name when he licks the soft supple skin behind your ear and nips your earlobe.

“Baby, please – please – bedroom, we have to–,”

He grunts his disapproval at your words, overwhelmed by the scent that makes his mouth water as he stains the column of your throat with wet, humid kisses.

“Joel, c’mon, honey, just upstairs –,”

The last flickering tiny speckle of logic in his brain fights with itself; take your right here or haul you over his shoulder – which isn’t great for his back and, quite frankly, he intends to spend most of the night on his knees.

First option it is.

You mumble in confusion, eyes shut, chin brushing the thread of gray curls on the top of his head as he purposefully sucks a bright hickey into your collarbone, one hand cupping your breast, the other pushing you backwards. You go willingly, of course.

Until the backs of your legs hit the couch and there’s nowhere else to go. In the stumble, your dress rides up even higher and those thighs he’s actually lost sleep over appear to him. He drops to his knees, hands like meat hooks as they squeeze your waist, pulling that warm cunt even closer to him over the edge of the couch. You groan when he pushes the skirt up even higher, practically to your tits, as he explores your outer, then inner thighs with soft strokes of the back of his hands. He presses his nose to the crevice between your thigh and hip and inhales.

“B-baby, the windows,” you swallow thickly, slurring like you’re drunk, grabbing at his shoulders like you’re trying to steady yourself, or turn him towards the windows. “I mean – the curtains, baby, the curtains are –,”

“It’s a fucking blizzard outside,” he explains tersely with his eyes still closed, as if irritated to have a conversation instead of focusing every ounce of concentration he has to the heat and smell beneath your black panties. He drags his teeth over the elastic band around your hips and makes you whine his name for an entirely different reason.

You don’t make him stop or wait when he tugs those panties down your hips. In fact, you help, lifting your hips, the irises of your eyes so wide and black, you look halfway out of your mind.

Good.

He gathers the skirt he was once so fond of and stuffs it into the cushions behind you. You watch him as he moves, eyes half-lidded, finger scraping your bottom lip. Around his ribs, your knees dip back and forth, moving targets, like he’s forgotten why he’s here and needs reminding.

His big paw, the size of which makes you feel indescribably small, catches your knee and stills it, gaze dark and heavy. Do not test me right now. You try not to moan.

“Can’t believe I’m going to let you fuck me with my boots on,” you whisper airly, watching with delirious fascination as he puts one of your slender legs over his shoulder. His mouth is actually watering at the sight of your damp curls.

“Not gonna fuck you. Just gonna eat your pussy. You’ll know the difference.”

“Semantically, it’s the sa-a-me thi-ng, Jo-e – ah, Joel!”

His tongue up inside you turns you into a whiny, high-pitched, feminine mess. He eats like he does everything else: diligently, quickly, and silently.

Until you bury your fingers in his ash-flecked curls and tug.

That first deep, loud moan ripples through his body, rolling him up just off his heels, his crotch seeking some kind – any kind – of friction.

The feel of his mouth humming against your cunt has your eyes rolling back in your head. “Please, oh fuck, please –”

You are a grown woman. You should not be making these noises.

You also shouldn’t be using a man’s face to get off . . . but you do it anyway.

“Tha’s it, baby,” he mutters when your hips grind against his face. His nose catches your clit and around him, your thighs wobble. “Use me, fuckin’ use me.”

His grip around your calf over his shoulder turns rough and he knows he’ll bruise you, but fuck, the thought of you walking around town with a mark in the shape of his hand where everyone can see —

He briefly lifts his grip from your thigh to adjust his iron-hot cock in his jeans. From his view over your cunt, it doesn't seem like you noticed, or even saw him leave your skin. He watches you writhe, try to capture your breath, eyes crammed shut as your hips rock almost without your control. He takes a chance to lick the musky dampness from his upper lip when your cunt rolls back from his face a fraction of an inch — and then he sinks in again.

Call it age or the fact that you both are here at the end of the world, but the first night he ate you out, you told him exactly how and where you like it, unabashed and in control and honestly it’s the hottest thing he can think of in recent memory.

He would have written it down on the backs of his eyelids if he could.

He follows it to the letter.

“Joel – Joel, baby, please don’t stop –,” You buck and moan beneath him as he spells out your instructions with his tongue along your cunt. He dots the i’s with a tap of his tongue or a lick on your clit. Just inches above his head, your chest heaves, your fingers locked into his curls, gently pushing him closer to your puffy pussy as if he’d ever waste a drop of what leaks out of you.

With a flat-tongued brush against your suffering clit, you arch off the couch, your sighs now verging on desperate, high and whinging, because it’s just not fair how good he makes you feel. He can feel your foot curl against the planes of his back, the rubber heel heavy, your mouth open and wet, with your eyes locked on the ceiling as you try to ride out your humming orgasm with a semblance of control.

“Look at me.”

No other man has ever been able to make you come with just his mouth, you told him once.

And no other man ever will.

It’s sweet, the way your eyes soften briefly when you lock eyes with him, crouched between your thighs — before your head tips back, lips wrenched apart in a silent scream, and you come, as hard as he has worked for the flush of slick down his chin.

There’s goosebumps on your thighs, he notes. He rubs his thumb against your raised skin and you shudder, head rolling against the back of the couch.

He’s already feeling a slight twinge of shame at the noise his knees will inevitably make when he stands, but for now he’s content watching you glide down from your high, his head against your knee, shoulders still stretching your legs open wide.

To his delight, you manage to laugh, your hand draping over your eyes. You can see the shine of the dull light all across his lips, his chin, his nose and you have to close your eyes. He should make you lick it off him, but not tonight.

“Top marks, Miller, as usual,” you mumble, “but the threat of voyeurism really deserves the extra credit.”

He grins. Still waiting for your breath to slow, he wipes his mouth with his palm and slides the leg over his shoulder down in between his own thighs. Propped up on one knee, he begins to unlace your boot. He holds your calf like it’s delicate as he gently drags the boot over your heel.

He’s just as reverent with the other side.

And then your boots, the pair, sit at the end of his couch, like they were always meant to be there.

His heart, easing down from its own thunderous beat, squeezes and that feeling, that strange-not-so-strange feeling, the one that dictates practically every action with you, dribbles into his veins.

You open one eye. A flutter of lashes, coy and playful, the curve of your mouth guarding a hoard of secrets.

“Now, Joel Miller . . . will you take me to bed?”

It’s a question. A request. Your eyes, as dark as ever, on his warm his chest, all the way down his spine. You’re asking, politely, for a thing you both know he would never, ever deny you.

He cannot lose you, he just can’t.

He stands and, yes, his knees crack and pop, but he regains stability when he toes off his only good pair of cowboy boots. He nods, grinning, and offers you his hand.

The walk, half-run up to his bedroom is something his brain designates as not important enough to store away.

Instead, it languishes in the way you stretch out on his mattress before him, ass in the air, knees spread over his blankets and arms sliding through crumpled sheets towards the headboard.

The room is dark, the only light fighting its way through the downpour of snow comes from the lamp posts that dot the street outside. But the veil of snow warps the light and everything in the half-darkness is doused in blue.

The shadowy, blurred curve of your shoulder, blue.

The spread of your fingers on his mattress, blue.

The swollen bottom of lip of your mouth —

“Joel.”

The snow falls so fast and hard, it patters against the windows and the sides of the house. It’s the only thing he can hear over the pounding of his heart and the short breath in his lungs. He stares at you, soaking his blankets in your scent and slick, and you stare right back in utter and total silence.

You sit in the center of his bed, bare for him beneath the velvet dress that is red like blood, your patchy white socks at complete odds with your smeared make up and the fucked-out look in your eyes. But there’s something else there too.

Something softer. Gentler.

You reach out a hand to him and he goes to you, like always. The instant your skin touches his the instinct to fuck you hard until you’re bruised and crying evaporates. He doesn’t think you want that anymore either.

No, you need —

“Joel, please come here. I need you.”

You need him.

The mattress squeaks when he settles one knee and then the other on top of it, his fingers stroking your ear, brushing the tips of your hair, while he kisses you with an ache that is not physically manifested. Instead, it resides —

“I love you,” you whisper.

You pull back infinitesimally, just enough that your eyes are all he sees.

A patient silence hangs from the ceiling. The sound of snow falling. Of baited breath. The scratch of your fingers against at his beard —

“I love you too.” You smile and his body is no longer big enough to contain his heart. “I feel like I’ve always loved you. Is that strange?”

Your gaze traces the same path your fingers take when you think he’s sleeping; it runs over his nose, his forehead, his eyebrows, the plush curve of his lips. Like you can’t believe he’s there with you. Like you can’t believe he’s real.

That feeling — that feeling he had been fighting because it always was the only thing that would ever really do him in — is love. He loves you.

He loves you.

And you love him.

Didn’t think they told stories like this anymore, not in a world like this. So maybe, for once, Joel Miller just got lucky.

“No. It’s not. Just be sure you mean it.”

He can't tell if the glow in your eyes comes from within you or it beams out of him. “Every word.”

Eventually, he sheds you of his favorite dress of yours, your only dress, and he lays you back, fully bare in the nest of his blankets. In the corner of his bedroom, the heater hisses like the wind from a purple storm, the static crackle of warmth hovering in the air. You watch, with eyes that shine like stars, as he pops apart the pearl-snaps holding his shirt together.

And then his white undershirt goes next. He used to worry what he looked like, until he found someone else who had done exactly what was necessary to survive.

When he goes to unzip his pants, you sit up, hair mussed and the hickey he gave you earlier throbbing like a dream.

“I wanna do it.”

He lets you unbutton his jeans, slide the zipper down, at the edge of the bed, but your hands are shaking, your breath stunted.

“I’m fumbling like a teenager,” you huff, a small, flustered smile on your face. “It’s like I’m nervous, but what is there to be nervous about —,”

His mouth pressed up against yours creates the most beautiful silence of all.

How do you want me, you ask him and he thinks, all the time. But he takes you both under the covers and settles in next to you. He positions one leg over his hip and immediately you know exactly what he’s asking for. Quick as a whip, you are.

There’s a rustle of covers, the bed slats squeaking, and then he’s nearly nose-to-nose with you. You kiss him again, maybe nervous still.

He disconnects, when you slip between his legs and take his thick, leaking cock in your hand.

“Baby, wait, do you need — I know it’s a lot — I’m a lot –,”

He can’t fathom why he’s so nervous either. But you chuckle, shake your head, smile at him.

“Don’t need anything but you.”

Your leg wraps tighter over his hip, knee up to his ribs, as he sinks inside you. The palm wrapped around the back of your knee grips roughly only once.

This is true silence. The instant where the world goes muted, everything distant and muffled, when he’s first buried deep in your heat.

Your fingers thread through his curls and suddenly all sound is cranked up to an eleven. Your rapid, stilted breathing, the groan of the bed, your soft smothered moans, or are those his? —

“Fuck me, Joel.”

Eyes never leaving yours, he does.

Your fingers dig into his skull, nails biting, hand wrapped around his neck to hold yourself steady as he thrusts up into you. He thumbs your stiff nipple, half of his hand still grasping your ribs.

You meet him thrust for thrust, a slow steady pace that draws sweat to his hairline and endless gasps from his mouth. But your gaze stays strong, never falters. Your hand slips to his shoulder, to stabilize just a bit more, but then it's on his chest, twisting his chest hair and he thinks he feels that sparkle of sanity, of rationality, any restraint to hold back crack and shatter between the clench of his teeth.

“Goddamn–,”

He rolls, taking you under him and demanding a faster pace. You push your hand against the headboard, the bed knocking against the wall in rhythmic, hypnotic thuds.

He thinks you hiss his name before you bite down his shoulder.

The sharp shock of pain lights up his brain, channeling the sudden awareness that he liked that so fucking much all the way down his spinal cord where it presses hot against his groin.

He lifts up onto one elbow, skin sweat hot and sticky as it splits from yours.

“Tell me what you need to come,” he pants.

You whine again, your throat dripping sweat, but that’s not an answer. Knowing he has about a half-a-dozen to a dozen good grinds before it puts too much strain on his back, he uses every single one of them to drag you to the knife’s edge.

“What–,” grind, “do you need –,” grind, “to come?”

The wail you let out nearly makes him come on the spot. Your eyes have that same, out-of-this-world, off-this-planet unfocused gaze, any sort of language impossible. You plead with him in the silence. A silence loaded with damp moans, grit teeth, and skin against skin against skin against skin against skin. Best sound in the world, as far as he was concerned.

You arch until he lifts above you and, taking the hand that was by your head, tuck it down between your legs. You let him grasp around with spread fingers where you are wet, where his cock rocks into your body, watch as that pulls him apart faster with dark eyes, before pressing his thumb against your clit.

There, you say without words. There is where I need you.

Once, twice, he circles – he can feel the tightness in his back already settling in, his jaw fixed and locked, his body battling the two overwhelming sensations of dull pain and fierce, wild pleasure – and you hit your release and you soak him in it.

He falls then too, falls just as hard and as fast as you, the chronic pain he holds in his shoulders, his neck, his back, his knee fleetingly gone in the rush of heat that branches out of his body from his groin and it feels divine.

When he lies on top of you, face buried in the curve of your neck, the heat from your humid skin warming up the breath in his lungs, the throb of your body matching his, his mind wiped clean, the thought occurs to him:

It’s not silence he’s found with you, it’s quiet.

It’s peace.

Eventually, some awareness seeps back into his trembling body and he rolls off of you, but takes the curve of your jaw in his hand as he goes. He can’t settle into the pillows because he can’t stop kissing you, love bites occasionally against your lip, as if where his body fails, he proves his love for you won’t end so easily.

Eventually, you press your fingers into the base of his skull and, like a reset button, he groans and drops onto his back.

Eventually, the quiet returns. Only soft noises, murmurs of existence outside of this perfect little room, fill the space.

Eventually, he falls asleep with you curled up next to him.

He knows you love waking up in bed together, but he also knows you love fresh coffee even more.

Which is where Ellie finds him the next morning.

He nearly adds too much ground coffee to the pot because he’s distracted, lost in thought about the way your curves looked in the bright morning light, when the back door slams open and a little creature made of entirely scarves, mittens, and an oversized purple jacket stomps into his kitchen and clomps its snowy shoes on the rug.

“Joel, we gotta go!” She’s a little breathless, red-cheeked too as she unwinds the scarf around her head and her face is revealed. “We don’t wanna miss it!”

“Miss what?” Joel asks, this time carefully measuring how much water the pot needs.

His question is not met with her usually buzzy chatter. Instead, she’s stopped undoing her scarf and just stares at him like he’s been beamed down from another planet.

He realizes all too late that he’s still in PJs at 9AM (basically a sign of another apocalypse), he’s making more coffee than just for himself, and he’s smiling.

Shit.

“Ellie, um, I –,”

She rolls her eyes. Her scarf is flung off her neck and she starts yanking off her gloves, her plucky attitude back, if not a bit smug.

“Get your girlfriend up too. They’re lighting the big tree in town square in an hour. I know she’d be pissed if she missed it.”

So definitely caught. Time to be “The Adult” here and put it out on the table.

“Don’t call her that.” Joel eyes her. Coffee percolating, he grabs a slice of bread and Ellie’s favorite jam. “Makes it sound like we’re fourteen.”

She frowns at him, classic “pouty-mouth”.

“I’m fourteen — rude. But seriously, and I say this because I care, get over yourself. Call a spade a spade. You’re dating her, fucking her–,”

“Ellie!”

"– and you make gross ga-ga eyes at each other when you think I’m not looking."

She slides into the seat at the island in front of him as he pushes the toasted bread with jam across the marble to her. She takes a bite, chews with her mouth open, and shrugs. “That’s a girlfriend, dude.”

Joel turns back to the eggs that might be burning, his shoulders hunched and fist tight around the spatula. Hate it when the kid is right.

He salvages what he can of the eggs, plates them along with two strips of bacon on two plates, and balances a mug of coffee on each. He tries to salvage some of his dignity with a glare.

“When you’re older, you’ll see some things just don’t need labels.”

At that, she rolls her eyes again and snatches up the last strip of bacon from the folded, greasy napkins. “Whatever, you dork.”

Argument soundly lost, he gathers up the plates and heads back up stairs. She’s still mumbling to herself as he goes.

“'Girlfriend', pfft . . . much better than fuck bunny!” She yells to no one in particular.

You hear the entire conversation from bed, the door cracked open enough for the sound to travel. Muffling a giggle, you snag his white shirt from the floor and draw it over your head. You should probably be more embarrassed that Joel got caught in his Walk of Shame, even if it was to his own kitchen to make breakfast. But . . . you’re just not.

The smile is still on your face when his footfalls approach the door and he sticks his head into the room.

“Sounds like we’re busted,” you smirk.

Joel almost chuckles. “'Bout as busted as you can be.” He hands you one plate and sits on the end of the bed with his own. He takes a low, slow sip of coffee and you follow him. The eggs are nibbled at and the bacon is perfectly crunchy.

“So . . . girlfriend?”

He rolls his eyes. “Not you too.”

“I mean," you slip the plate and coffee onto the bedside table, then hug the sheets around your knees, "I agree with you on the bit about labels. It seems silly. And not wasteful silly. Just . . .”

“Silly.” Joel’s eyes are as dark as his coffee, warmer than it too. “Doesn’t really capture the whole thing, does it?”

An apocalypse and a half later, and a boy’s sweet eyes on you can still make your stomach swoop.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then what do you wanna say, if people start askin’?”

You bite your lip, eyes up in faux-thought. “Truth be told, I'm kinda partial to fuck bunny. Cute like with a little tail and ears —,"

The groan from Joel and subsequent head shake makes you laugh enough for you to take pity on the old guy. You crawl closer and his eyes slip from your face to where the sheet tucks under your knees. But a hand on his cheek returns his gaze.

"I like what you said last night." Your smile is soft, pleased. "That I’m yours. Like you’re mine.”

Joel’s warmth bleeds from his whole frame as he leans in close to put his mug on the bedside table, then leans in closer still to you. He drags his nose over your bare, exposed shoulder, in a way that is sweet and sensual all at once. He stops with a kiss on the hinge of your jaw.

“I like that too. I like saying that you’re mine.”

Ignoring the shiver that rockets up your spine at the low hum of his voice, the flutter of his lips barely against your cheek, you tuck an errant curl around his ear and it immediately springs back up again. You smile and he smiles back, a youthful shine in his eyes.

“Wherever you are, I am too.”

Listen to: I am the forest by Willie Nelson

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pearlessance · 5 months ago

Text

Three's A Crowd

Tommy Miller x f!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Tommy's new girlfriend is awfully sweet. When Joel finds out she's got a big appetite that only he can fill, he decides to satisfy the craving. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, threesome, praise, seduction, age gap(20yrs), size difference, oral sex galore, unprotected sex, photos taken during intercourse, mention of sending nudes, throat bulge, usual smut antics NOTE: i'm not sure if this is actually any good considering it was writen in just a matter of days because i was inspired by the new promo, gabriel luna the man that you are 😵‍💫😵‍💫 !! MASTERLIST [crossposted to AO3]

Joel Miller knows his brother like the back of his hand.

Which is why it’s not surprising when Tommy lets him in on the details about his secret new girlfriend. Secret—because you’re the daughter of their most consistent client.

At first, Joel tells him how stupid it is to risk the company like that. It’s irresponsible to put on the line their biggest cash cow just to fuck around with the only daughter of the man that funds Miller Contracting through the winter. And then there’s the fact that you don't exactly fit Tommy’s type.

A rich girl with an even richer daddy compared to all those wild girls from Tommy’s previous female fixations? It doesn’t line up. It makes no sense in Joel’s head.

Even as his brother tries to explain, “I didn’t go after her. Not at first. She came onto me.”

Joel’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other propped on the open window of his truck as they drive home from a particularly exhausting day. He furrows his brows and asks, “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? You sure she actually likes you and isn’t just tryin’ to get her daddy’s attention?”

Tommy snorts. “Even if she was, I wouldn't care. You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?”

“Jesus Christ—”

“An’ I mean love, Joel. Not like. Love.” There are stars in his eyes and he knows it’s a serious matter but Joel can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

He thinks it must be high praise coming from his brother who goes home with a different girl every other weekend. “That good, huh?”

“Better than good.”

And he knows Tommy’s got a one-track mind, so there’s really no use fighting it. So he just says, “Be careful. Don’t go gettin’ caught 'cause the business will pay the price.”

Tommy agrees and Joel lets it go. Doesn’t think about it again, even when Tommy cancels their plans to go out that weekend in favor of your company.

Well, not until he’s standing in your kitchen going over blueprints with your father, that is.

Joel tries not to glance out of the floor-length windows in the kitchen to the backyard. He tries not to look at the movement in the pool that repeatedly catches his eye. And he tries, really fucking hard, not to allow his attention to linger on the way that white bikini rests so snugly against your chest, or the way your wet hair cascades down your back and sticks to your smooth skin, or the way his cock twitches in his jeans when the impressive swell your ass shakes as you pull yourself up and out of the pool.

He understands his brother a little better when he sees you, Joel thinks. Understands why he’s willing to risk such a high-profit opportunity for the chance to see you underneath him.

Your father leaves the kitchen to find an old set of blueprints to compare to the new ones, and Joel begins to panic as he realizes this is the moment you decide you’re done swimming.

When you open the door to the kitchen the hinges creak. Joel takes note of it.

Water drips onto the white tile floor, the same quick rhythm as the thumping of his heart against his sternum. You cross the kitchen and open the fridge door without even looking at him.

But Joel certainly looks at you. Can’t help but to, really. You’re like some decadent display as you break the seal of an icy bottle of water and begin to take long, slow drinks from it. Your lips are plush and swollen and Tommy’s words reverberate in the back of Joel’s head.

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

“Thirsty?”

He nearly chokes. Joel knows you’re likely just being hospitable. Kind, even. But he feels like he shouldn’t be speaking to you, not when you’re close to naked and dripping wet. And if not because of your father upstairs, then certainly because of his brother’s affinity for you. So, despite the way his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth, he says, “No, thanks.”

Joel turns his eyes back to his blueprints, folding the corner once, twice, trying to focus on anything but the weight of your stare.

If you notice his unease you ignore it as you slide up to the counter beside him and peer down at the layout of your father’s newest home renovation. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your skin, can smell the chlorine in your hair. “Hm,” you say. “This is for the guest room?”

“Bedroom D,” he corrects.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You turn away from the blueprints, spine resting against the marble countertop in favor of studying him instead. “You’re Joel, right? Tommy’s older brother?”

There’s no sense in lying, Joel thinks. Though he does consider it for a moment. “Uh…yeah,” he says. And then he clears his throat and nods, repeating a little more firmly, “Yeah.”

Your stare is so hot against his skin, eyes unabashedly roaming down the column of his neck. He shivers as your attention lingers on the small sliver of his chest that’s revealed thanks to his decision this morning to leave one of the buttons on his flannel unsecured. You’re standing so close to him now that a drop of chlorinated water falls from the ends of your hair and onto his arm.

Joel feels the cool liquid slide down his too warm-skin, melting as if it were ice, heating to the temperature of his blood that sings in his veins beneath your scrutinization.

He watches your tongue slide over your pretty bottom lip and his breath catches in his lungs. “Hm,” you say again, the sound a little fonder this time. “I see where he gets his good looks from.”

It’s been a long time since someone flirted with him so openly. Even longer since someone your age even took a second glance at him. And even though he knows, by the rule of his own morality, that you belong to his little brother…Joel can’t deny the giddy feeling it elicits in his chest. Can’t deny that he likes your attention, either.

“Found them,” your father suddenly says, bounding down the stairs with folded blueprints in his hand.

Joel clears his throat and you take a small step away from him, but otherwise seem unphased by the intrusion. He tries to ignore the lingering buzzing beneath his skin, tries to shake off what remains of the electrified energy you’d created.

You greet your dad with a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’re going out tonight. Your father asks with who, and you glance past him, staring only at Joel as you say simply, “Just a friend.”

And he knows you’ll likely be at his little brother’s apartment within the hour. Thinks about preparing himself for yet another of Tommy’s cancellations of guy’s night but this time there’s no frustration on Joel’s part.

Because he doesn’t blame his brother at all. If anything, he understands a little better now. Understands why getting drunk with Joel at a bar is a far less tempting activity than spreading those pretty thighs of yours. Understands why he’d rather stay home than go out, especially if you’re there in his bedroom on your knees for him.

His assumption is confirmed later that night when he gets a text message.

Tommy: Have to cancel again. Sorry, something came up.

Joel knows exactly what ‘came up’ and decides to put on an old western movie to distract himself instead.

But when he lays in bed that night, the image of you in your bikini surfaces in his brain and makes a home there. He tries for an hour to get himself to relax enough to shut it out, to just go to sleep.

Eventually, though, he realizes there’s no fucking point in trying. And even though you’re in his brother’s bed and your father’s blueprints are sitting on the kitchen table downstairs, Joel Miller takes his cock in his hand and has the best orgasm of his life. He thinks about your smooth skin and supple curves, thinks about the way that single droplet of water felt against his skin, thinks about your pink tongue and the way you looked at him with such insatiable hunger.

It’s a secret Joel decides he’ll take to his grave.

He tries not to think of you after that. Tries to keep his distance from you, from your house in general. Joel’s not a man who enjoys technology but opts for emailing your father instead of meeting with him to avoid another post-pool incident.

Tommy finally makes it to guy’s night two weeks later but he’s glued to his fucking cell phone. Joel tries to make conversation, tells him about upcoming projects and opportunities for contracts, and mentions that this summer has been their most profitable yet. But Tommy only nods every so often. Giving Joel a stupid, uninterested, “Yeah, for sure,” or “That’s great, Joel,” or “I don’t know, maybe.”

There’s no salt to his words, no meaning other than oblivious agreement. And it starts to anger Joel because Tommy’s been distracted by girls before but never like this. Never so much so that he can’t sit and have half a conversation with his brother. Eventually, he lets out an annoyed sigh and says, “If you’ve got somewhere better to be you can just fuckin’ go, Tommy. Jesus Christ.”

The irritation seems to finally get his attention. Tommy locks his cell phone and says, “She’s sending me pictures, distractin’ me, I’m sorry,” but there’s a stupid ass grin on his face and Joel can feel the insincerity radiating off his brother.

Joel rolls his eyes and waves down the bartender for the check.

“No, no, okay,” Tommy insists, setting his phone face down on the bar top. He shoos the bartender away and says, “Okay, seriously, you’re right. I’m sorry.” It’s a little more genuine this time, and so Joel decides to meet his brother halfway.

“You really like her? S’that what this is?”

That smile returns to Tommy’s face, eyes glossing over in a mystifying way. He must, because Joel’s never seen him like this before. “We’re not even together,” he says.

Joel’s brows furrow. “What are you talking about? You spend every weekend with her, you might as well be.”

“Believe me, Joel, I’ve tried, man. She’s…I don’t know how to explain it. She doesn’t want anything serious. Doesn’t wanna be exclusive or nothin’ but isn’t fuckin’ around with anyone but me. I just…” he shakes his head and his eyes widen and Joel can see the awe in them.

“So she’s acting like you,” Joel supplies.

It makes Tommy laugh. But the more he explains, the more Joel starts to believe it. “She’s so sweet but that girl is insatiable. Just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it. Doesn’t care about much else.”

“I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t have fun, Tommy, but don’t let her consume your whole life. Get some space every once in a while,” Joel says. But he understands the infatuation, understands exactly how enticing your company would be.

He leans in close, one hand wrapped around his whiskey glass and the other tapping the back of his phone. “Those pictures…she’s taking pictures in the shower, Joel. For me. An’ you wanna know what she just told me the other day?”

Joel knows what’s coming next. Knows Tommy’s about to clue him in on something Joel has no business knowing, but he can’t fight off his curiosity. “What?”

“Said her biggest fantasy is a threesome with two guys. Told me, and I quote, that she wants to get fucked while she’s got my dick in her mouth.” He makes a sound of disbelief but there’s this grin on his face that lets Joel know Tommy’s biggest fantasy is to be with a filthy girl like you.

Joel just shakes his head.

But the image his brother paints lingers in his brain for days.

In fact, he’s still thinking about it during his next meeting with your father. Thinking about the fact that you’re up in your room, fantasizing about getting fucked by two guys at once when your dad suddenly says, “I’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks, I hope you don’t mind I gave my little girl your phone number. Just in case anything goes wrong. It won’t, but I hate being so far away while she’s here alone. I’m sure you understand, being a father and all.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to respond, unsure how to explain how terrible an idea that is, so he says nothing. Just nods stiffly and begins discussing the renovations for the ensuite of bedroom C.

Less than a week later, Joel gets a phone call from an unknown number, and his gut sinks because he knows it’s you. He debates on ignoring the call but then begins to worry that something’s actually wrong and puts himself in your father’s position. Thinks he’d be furious, had it been Sarah, if she’d called someone for help and they’d ignored her.

So, he presses his cell phone to his ear and says, “Hello?”

“Joel? Hi, sorry, I know it’s kinda late. Do you think you could come over really quick? I need your help.”

“Help? With what?” It doesn’t really matter, he thinks. Because he’s already lacing up his boots, phone held to his ear with his shoulder.

“I locked myself out,” you explain. “My dad’s out of town for work and I didn’t grab my key before he left. You have a spare, don’t you? For the renovations and stuff?”

Joel can’t help but wonder where you’ve been for the last few days. Someplace you wouldn’t have needed to come home, it seems. “Uh, yeah, I do,” he says. “I’ll be there in a minute. Hang tight.”

He finds you standing on your front porch with a backpack slung over your shoulder, your phone charger in your hand, and a look of relief on your face. “Thank you so much,” you immediately say. “I swear I never forget my key but I was distracted this time.”

Joel unlocks the front door for you and lets you inside. He lingers on the threshold, saying, “No, it’s fine. No worries at all.”

“Come inside,” you insist, and he can feel the bad decision from a fucking mile away.

“Really, it’s fine. I’ll just—”

“Please,” you interrupt. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Let me make you something to eat before you go. It’s the least I could do.”

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. But he does.

Joel nods, unable to resist you and how pretty the word please sounds in your mouth. He follows you into the kitchen, lingering at the island counter as you drop your bag onto the floor next to the stairs and immediately plug your cell phone into the extra outlet he’d placed into the backsplash per your father’s request during last winter’s renovation. You look over your shoulder at him as you open the refrigerator and ask, “You like grilled cheese?”

“Uh, yeah. I do.” He sits in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the way you move as you prepare the bread and heat up a cast iron pan. Eventually, he finds the courage to ask, “You…uh…were you at Tommy’s?”

He watches as your cheeks redden the smallest bit. But there’s no shame in your voice as you answer simply, “Yes, I was.”

“Figured you’d tire each other out eventually,” he teases.

You laugh softly, and the buttered bread sizzles as you place it into the pan. As you lay the slices of cheese on top of it you explain, “Wasn’t like that. I’m home for the weekend so Tommy can talk to you, actually.”

It surprises him to hear it, in truth. “Me? What for?”

You flush an even deeper crimson. “Uhm…I think it’s better that you hear it from him,” you say.

Joel’s mind wanders to a million places as you dig out a spatula and flip the grilled cheese. But then a terrifying thought strikes him and Joel suddenly asks, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Ew, no,” you say with a laugh. “Believe me, Joel, I like creampies just as much as the next girl but I’m not irresponsible about it.”

This time, it’s his face that warms. Joel swallows hard and sits on the barstool at the island, trying not to think about your inadvertent admission, trying not to imagine it, to imagine how fucking good it would feel to—

“Here,” you say, placing a glass plate in front of him with a perfectly crispy grilled cheese cut diagonally. He’s thankful for the distraction, thankful to convince himself the watering of his mouth is from the food in front of him and not the thought of how you would taste on his tongue.

“Thanks,” he says simply, trying to massage some of the tension from his shoulders. It had been a long day on the job site and he’ll admit to himself only that a grilled cheese and the sight of a pretty girl certainly feels like a treat.

You seem to notice his discomfort and ask, “You okay?”

He nods and takes a bite of his sandwich. It’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had and he tries to hold back his moan to no avail. When he looks over at you, you’re wearing a satisfied grin that only widens when he says around another mouthful, “This is incredible.”

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, you step up behind him and place your hands on his shoulders. Joel opens his mouth to stop you, to tell you this is wrong, inappropriate—but then you kneed your fingers into the tender muscle, and his eyes flutter closed.

All argument leaves him as quickly as it appeared, and all he can manage to say is, “Jesus Christ.”

Your quiet giggle is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. And Joel knows he should be thinking of his brother right now, knows he should be thinking of your father, thinking about the fact that you’re just a young woman, twenty years separating the two of you…but all he can focus on is the way your hands feel on him.

They’re warm and soft but clinical in their pursuit, thumbs pressing hard into the muscle that brackets his spine. Your delicate fingers feel like heaven, bringing relief he never realized just how badly he needed.

You slowly massage down his back, pushing against the knots, working them free. When you get to his lower back, he groans when you slip your hands beneath his navy t-shirt. You’re touching him with no barrier and it steals the breath from his lungs.

Never in his life has he wanted to be touched by someone so badly. Never in his life has he enjoyed the feel of another person’s skin against his so much. Your thumbs dig into the sore muscles, working the tension out.

You lean in so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the shell of his ear as you say, “Will you take your shirt off?”

He’s thankful you’re standing behind him, however. Because it means you can’t see the way his cock stiffens in his jeans.

The words are tempting and seductive and wrong, he knows. He looks back at you and the heat in your eyes takes him off guard. The angle has his mouth so close to yours you’re sharing the same breath.

It’s then he knows just how badly you want him. As much as he wants you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say. While you speak, your fingertips trace soft patterns into the skin of his lower back.

Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he does it anyway.

You step away from him only long enough for Joel to grip his t-shirt at the back of his collar and pull it over his head, laying it on the marble countertop.

And then you go back to your ministrations as if nothing changed; massaging the tension from his muscles, starting low and working your way back up to his shoulders this time. But it is different, Joel knows. Because he can feel the heat of your skin against his and his heart rate picks up, a different kind of tension filling him instead.

But it feels so fucking good that he doesn’t ever want you to stop.

So, he eats what remains of his grilled cheese. Lets you work the tightness from his bones, trying not to hiss in pain when you touch a particularly tender spot in the center of his back. You lighten the pressure there and begin building back up to it slowly, bringing him to heights of euphoria he’d never known existed.

When he wipes the crumbs from his hands and pushes his now empty plate away, Joel knows he should stop you. But he doesn’t, because he can no longer find a reason good enough to say the words. He lets you dote on him in a way he doesn’t deserve and soaks it up while it lasts.

And when you press a sweet, chaste kiss to the top of his spine, Joel feels the energy shift but doesn’t say anything then, either.

Because he likes the way your lips feel against his skin. Even more so than your soft hands.

You do it again, a little higher this time. You kiss the back of his neck and he shivers. He realizes you can see the goosebumps that break out across his skin, because he can feel the smile on your lips as you press another wet, open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his shoulder.

Joel’s cock has never been this hard, he thinks. He’s never wanted someone so badly, has never been so incapable of making the right decision as he is at this very moment.

His breath comes fast and labored as you press yourself to him. You’re not wearing a bra beneath your oversized t-shirt, and he can feel your pebbled nipples against his back. Your hands move forward, circling his abdomen, sliding up and over his chest. He knows he should stop you now, knows this is the beginning of something he can never come back from.

But the two of you are all alone in this big empty house, and how can he deny you? He doesn’t have the strength. Not then you slide pretty, delicate fingers over his soft stomach, through the dark curls that disappear into his jeans.

Your hand is slow in its pursuit but still adamant as you palm the bulge in his jeans. Even through the thick denim, the feel of your hands on him makes him shake. He cock throbs with each gentle stroke, each small movement. “You can tell me to stop,” you tell him. “Is this okay?”

He can’t bring himself to say anything, but the moan that escapes him is answer enough. He places his hands on the edge of the counter and straightens his spine, getting a full view as you undo the button of his jeans and lower the metal zipper at an agonizingly slow pace.

And then you’re slipping a hand inside his jeans, below the elastic band of his boxers, and all thoughts eddy out of his head. He can think of nothing, nothing as you begin to stroke him. Your hands are small, barely fitting around his cock, but you make do with what you have and it’s more than enough.

You pull him out of his jeans completely, and it’s a sight to behold, seeing his cock in your pretty hands. He tries to catch his breath as you pull one of your hands away for a single moment. And when it returns, your fingers are sticky with webs of spit.

This time, when you wrap your hand around his cock, you’re able to stoke him a little easier, the added lubrication allowing for freer movement. You move slowly at first, hands grazing from base to tip.

He watches with reverence as you familiarize yourself with him. When a bead of precum forms at the tip of his cock, you use your thumb to add it to the sticky wetness already in your hands. Joel can feel the smile on your face as you continue to press desperate kisses to his spine, and he knows he won’t last long like this.

Watching you stroke him with both of your small hands, watching you take care of him like this…it’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

So he closes his eyes. Lets himself sink into the moment with you instead, listens to your pretty whimpers as you press your tits against him. He wants to reach around and slide his hand between your thighs but knows better, knows that this is already bad enough.

You tighten your hands around his cock, squeezing a little harder, and he feels his end begin to build at the base of his spine. “Fuck.”

“Does it feel good?”

He tries to breathe slowly, tries to draw it out. But you pick up your pace, stroking him a little faster, and Joel can’t stop the groan that escapes him.

“You make me so wet, Joel,” you whisper against his skin. “I think about you and touch myself sometimes, thinking about how fucking big you are, how good it would feel to have you touch me…how good you’d feel inside of me.”

Your filthy words bring him to the brink. Joel fights it, doesn’t want to finish so fast he embarrasses himself. He wants to see the look on your face, wants to fuck you right here on this kitchen counter that he built.

Joel clenches his fists instead. Stays stone still because he knows if he moves an inch he’ll be giving into these desires. Knows a single shift in position would have him pulling your shorts down your thighs and licking your pussy until he makes you cry out for God.

But it’s not his place.

It’s not his fucking place, and you’re not his fucking girl.

So he doesn’t move.

You do, though.

Joel tries to catch his breath as you pull away from him, the absence of your touch leaving him cold and wanting. But then you’re nudging your way in front of him, in the small space between his knees and the island, and then you’re lowering yourself to the marble floor.

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

Slowly, you run your hands over his jean-clad thighs. You look up at him through your lashes and he feels a little like he’s being worshipped.

And when you lean forward, pretty, soft tongue licking the underside of his cock, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself. His resolve withers, and he threads his fingers through your hair but is careful not to rush you.

He lets you take your time, lets you swirl your tongue over the head, lets you taste every inch of him to your heart’s content. And when you finally take him into your mouth, cheeks hallowed out, creating a tight seal around him, Joel’s head falls back in bliss.

You savor it, relish in it, swallowing him down inch by inch. He hits the back of your throat and still you keep going, choking on him, nose pressed against the hair below his navel. With each pass, you begin to bob your head, tongue smoothing over the sensitive tip. You set an insatiable rhythm, drool sliding down your chin.

It doesn’t take him long. His hands tighten in the hair at the nape of your neck and he breaths out, “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-”

Your watery eyes meet his and the adoration in them sends him over the edge. Joel finishes at the back of your mouth, your fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his thighs almost painfully, but you take everything he gives you and swallow it down.

It’s the sexiest thing he’s seen in all his life.

When he finishes, Joel strokes your hair affectionately and you smile up at him with his cock still in your mouth. It makes him laugh, and he realizes how soft and sweet this moment feels. How easy it is. How he never wants it to end.

Slowly, you sit back and begin to stand to your feet. Your lips are swollen and red and glossy, even when you wipe the spit off your chin with the back of your hand.

You cross the kitchen, grab your phone, and make your way to the staircase. “Thanks again, Joel. Can you lock up on your way out?”

He doesn’t understand how you can feel so casually about this. Doesn’t understand how you’re likely texting his brother as if Joel’s cock wasn’t just in your mouth, as if the taste of his release doesn’t linger on your tongue.

The guilt doesn’t set in until he’s in bed that night. He can’t sleep, because he knows he has to say something to Tommy but knows, too, he’ll likely pay the price of a right hook in reparation.

At three in the morning he sends a text to his brother; Come over in the morning. Need to talk. Important.

Joel doesn’t sleep. He lays in bed and thinks of you, as he so often does these days. Thinks about how uncomfortable it’s going to be to tell his little brother that he indulged himself in the pretty little thing he’s been spending all of his time with. He decides he’s just going to say it outright, tell him the truth without beating around the bush, and immediately apologize for it afterward.

Because he is sorry, Joel thinks. Not sorry that he did it, but sorry that it’s hurt people in the process.

How can he come to regret the most gratifying sexual experience of his life? It’s a comfort, to hear some of Tommy’s words echo in his brain.

We’re not even together.

She doesn’t want anything serious.

It’s like she just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it.

Joel hopes his brother feels a similar way. Tommy’s never once indicated he’s ever wanted to settle down with a woman, but…something sits in his gut and twists up his insides. Because as much as he wants to deny it, Joel knows this…knows you are different. What Tommy feels for you is different.

He’s drinking whiskey by ten in the morning for no reason other than to calm his nerves.

And Joel’s thankful for the liquid courage when Tommy finally pulls into the driveway at noon. He comes barrelling through Joel’s front door with a scowl on his face, and for a second Joel wonders if his brother already knows and is here thinking Joel had every intention of keeping this secret of yours.

But when he speaks, Tommy doesn’t seem angry. Just…concerned. “What’s up, man? Pretty ominous text to wake up to. Where’s Sarah? She alright?”

Joel shakes his head and raises a hand between them. “Sarah’s fine, she’s alright,” he says quickly. “Staying with a friend this weekend. Sorry, I guess I should have mentioned it wasn’t a life or death situation.”

For Tommy, anyway.

With a slow nod, Tommy’s shoulders slump and he drops himself onto the couch. “Alright, then. That’s good. I was worried, came haulin’ ass over here.” It’s then he notices the tumbler in Joel’s hand, half filled with amber-colored liquid. “You good, Joel?”

He takes a seat next to his brother and tries to recite the speech in his head. But nothing comes out. Joel opens and closes his mouth once, twice, and then finishes off the whiskey in his glass.

Tommy’s patient, for what it’s worth. He lets Joel adjust in his seat three different times, saying nothing while he tries to find the courage he’s been building for the last twelve hours.

“I…I, uhm…I have to tell you something an’ I…” Joel shakes his head and squeezes his jaw. “Alright, look. I…did something.”

A quiet, curt sort of laugh leaves Tommy. “I know what happened last night, Joel. She already told me.”

It surprises him. Not that you told him, Joel can’t fault you for that considering he’s presently trying to do the same thing. What’s surprising is that Tommy seems relaxed about the whole situation. Relieved, even.

A million different questions surface on the tip of his tongue, but only one comes out. “What?”

“It’s alright, man,” Tommy says, laying a comforting hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“You’re not…mad? I don’t understand. I let her—”

Tommy’s mouth stretches into one of the widest smiles Joel’s ever seen on his brother’s face. “It was good, huh?”

Joel doesn’t know if saying yes is a good idea. Doesn’t know if a simple three-letter word is sufficient enough for the things you made him feel with that pretty, pink tongue of yours.

But it seems his thoughts are written plainly on his face. “Fuck yeah, it was,” Tommy says with a laugh. “She called me right after you left her house last night. Told me everything. She makes a mean grilled cheese too, doesn’t she?”

Try as he might, Joel can’t seem to wrap his head around what’s happening. Can’t seem to process his brother’s ease, his indifference. He tries to put himself in Tommy’s place but knows that if it was his bed you slept in for the last week, Joel would be furious to learn you’d wound up on your knees for someone else.

But if that someone was Tommy? His own brother?

Maybe that’s why it’s different. Because Joel would never do something to hurt his brother intentionally. And he knows, too, that Tommy would never do it to him, either.

He trusts his brother with everything in him. There’s not another soul on the planet who knows him like Tommy does. So, surely, he knows that what you and Joel did wasn’t born of malicious intent, right?

“She’s a sweet little thing,” Tommy says quietly, as if they’re sharing a secret. “But that mouth on her is somethin’ else. She’s a talker, through and through.” There’s pride on his face as he speaks. “Said she felt real bad, runnin’ out on you like that, but she’d gotten so wet from just goin’ down on you that I could hear it through the fuckin’ phone, Joel.”

Though he tries not to, Joel begins to wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t disappeared so fast to take care of the ache that had settled between your thighs.

It would have been only fair, right? You helped him. He would have helped you.

“She wanted me to talk to you about something, anyway,” Tommy says.

He’d nearly forgotten that you’d mentioned the same thing last night in all the chaos. It piques his interest, because what on Earth could you need Tommy to ask him?

But his answer comes quickly when his brother says carefully, “You remember a couple of weeks ago when I told you what her biggest fantasy is?”

A threesome.

Joel’s standing from the couch and shaking his head before his brother gets another word out. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Tommy?”

“Joel, just listen—”

“Listen to what, man? You got any idea what you’re askin’ me right now?”

There’s a smirk on his face as he stares at Joel from the couch, looking just as comfortable as if they were having a normal conversation about what they should eat for dinner. “I’m askin’ you to fuck my girlfriend,” he says.

Somehow, the word girlfriend surprises Joel more than the rest. It’s the very first time he’s ever called anyone his girlfriend. “I thought you weren’t together.”

Tommy shrugs. “Call it what you will. Does it really matter?”

“Yeah, Tommy, it does matter. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for this girl. Tell me this doesn’t mean anythin’ to you, that doing somethin’ like this wouldn’t fuck it all up in a minute.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t lie to you, brother. ‘Course she means somethin’ to me. That’s why I wanna give her everything she wants. And she wants you too, Joel. Is that so bad?”

Joel sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots.

For a second, a single second, he considers it. Thinks about how any price is worth it for a single night with you, to hear the sound of your moans, to feel your warm breath against his neck again. He’d bet you sound real pretty, all filled up with him.

“Don’t trust anyone else to take care of her the way I do,” Tommy says. “No one but you.”

It’s too much. It’s way too much to ask of him.

“You’re insane, Tommy,” he says, grabbing his whiskey glass from the coffee table and escaping to the kitchen to refill it. He wishes he had something a little stronger.

He’s not surprised when his brother follows him to the kitchen. Tommy leans against the archway and says, “You can say no.”

“Good, 'cause I’m sayin’ no.”

Tommy laughs, but Joel thinks there’s no joke to be found. “Just wanted you to know the offer’s there and she’d jump at the opportunity. Y’know, if you change your mind, that is. Ask her about it, if you wanna.”

“I won’t.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, not tryin’ to push it or anything. You know how to get ahold of me.”

And then his brother retreats, leaving Joel with nothing but his whiskey and his thoughts.

Thoughts that run rampant in his brain. Filthy images of you beneath him, back arched in pleasure, pretty mouth hung open just wide enough for Tommy to slip inside.

How terrible would it be, really? Tommy might have impulsive tendencies, but he seems so sure of this. And if there’s not an ounce of jealousy in his brother, so much so that he offers you to Joel like some sort of prize…maybe there won’t be the repercussions Joel’s afraid of.

Maybe it’ll be as Tommy says. Maybe it would just be a good, safe way to give you what you want, to indulge your wildest desires.

And it would certainly be an indulgence for him. Just feeling your hands on him had brought Joel bliss like he’d never known. He can’t imagine how much higher he’d feel if he could taste you, if he could finish deep inside of you and not at the back of your throat.

It takes twenty minutes of pacing in his kitchen and another ten of shaking the nerves from his hands before he picks up the phone and calls you.

“Hey, Joel. I was just thinking about you.”

“S’that right?”

“Mmhm. Did…did Tommy talk to you yet? He told me he was going to this morning.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. He did.”

A strange sort of silence stretches on. He can hear your hesitance and realizes you’re just as nervous as he is. “And? What did you…what did you say?”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell you he declined the offer. Not when it was a no mostly out of fear and unease. “You wanna tell me how this is gonna work?”

You snort and he can almost see the playful smirk on your face. “I think you know how it works, Joel.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, but can’t fight off the smile that climbs onto his face and makes a home there. “Brat.”

“Hm, I think I prefer the term princess.”

Joel laughs but thinks the name is real fitting. He can see why Tommy likes you so much—can understand why he wants to give you everything it is that you desire. Everything about you is so playful and carefree and innocent. You’re just so sweet. A tooth-rotting confectionary.

“I don’t know how it’ll work,” you finally say. “I’ve never done something like this before, but I know it’s what I want.”

Your conviction is reassuring. Both you and Tommy seem certain that this is the path you want to take, no unease to be found within either of you. But it’s not the physical that worries him. It’s…everything else. “An’ what happens if it becomes something more? Sex is just sex until it isn’t.”

He can hear the smile in your words as you ask, “You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?”

“I’m bein’ serious,” he insists. “Tommy feels somethin’ for you. I know it and I think you probably do, too. I don’t want to do this and ruin what the two of you have been workin’ on.”

“You won’t ruin anything,” you insist. “And if…if things do get…complicated, then we’ll just take it day by day. No use in worrying about something that might not happen, right?”

It’s such a naive way of thinking. Joel wishes he wouldn’t have said no so quickly. Wishes, too, that you were a little different. Maybe if you weren’t so sweet, so tempting, he wouldn’t be so worried about ‘catching feelings,’ as you’d put it.

Your voice is quieter as you say, “For what it’s worth, Joel…I like you, too.”

By the end of the phone call, you manage to convince him to consider it. To genuinely give the idea a shot, to weigh all the pros and cons. You promise not to be disappointed with either decision and though he knows the whole thing has been your idea, Joel believes you.

Several days later, Joel stops by with the intent to fix the creaky hinges on the door to the pool. But the moment he steps into the kitchen, Joel forgets all about the task at hand because he can hear your moans echoing through the house.

He follows them like a moth to a flame.

The door to your father’s bedroom is wide open. And in the center of the king-sized bed, covered with gray satin sheets, is you and Tommy.

Tommy’s turned away from the door, but you’re looking right at it. Looking right at Joel, as you bounce in his brother’s lap. When your eyes connect with him, your pace only picks up, your moans only grow louder.

Joel watches, frozen in time, as you chase your release. Tommy swirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. You thread your fingers through his hair and moan his name but you stare right at Joel.

He can’t breathe. Has suddenly forgotten the process of inhalation. He’s seen you in your bikini but never like this, never completely bare. You’re beautiful, Joel thinks. Beautiful in a godly way; a woman the poets write for, a woman the sculptors display in cathedrals.

You reach a hand between your bodies, circling your clit and arching your back.

The thought doesn’t even cross Joel’s mind that he should leave, that he should give the two of you some privacy. It feels right that he’s here.

You grind yourself on Tommy’s cock and give Joel the sweetest, most innocent smile as you say, “It’s so big, you’re so deep. God, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Tommy grabs at the soft swell of your ass, lifting you just to slam you back down onto his lap. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over this dick, princess?”

I prefer the term princess.

No need to wonder why, Joel thinks.

“Mmhm, yes, yes, right there.”

“Can feel her gettin’ all messy,” Tommy says. “If I knew you’d get this wet ridin’ me in your daddy’s bed I would’ve said yes weeks ago, pretty girl.”

Joel knows the reason you’re all worked up has nothing to do with the location and everything to do with his eyes on you, but he stays silent. Stays still.

Even as he watches you fall apart on his brother's cock and soak the satin sheets beneath him. Even as Tommy does the thing that Joel’s been dreaming about every night for days, filling you up with his release.

He doesn’t linger. He doesn’t fix the creaky hinges, either.

Joel barely makes it back to his truck before he’s reaching into his jeans to stroke his cock, right there in the driveway in broad fucking daylight.

It only takes a few quick tugs before he covers his hand in sticky ropes of cum. He tries to catch his breath, wiping the mess you’ve made of him onto his jeans and driving home ten over the limit. Before he makes it inside to shower and change, Joel sends a text message to both you and Tommy that reads; Okay. I’m in. My place. Friday night at ten.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries to go on about his work week like normal, going through the motions of making dinner each night and taking Sarah to school every morning with Tommy in the passenger seat.

They don’t talk about it, though Joel can sometimes feel his brother staring at him a little too long as if there’s something he wants to say. But he doesn’t. They don’t bring it up until after Joel drops Sarah off at her friend’s house for another weekend-long slumber party.

Tommy says, “I’m gonna take her out for dinner. Do you want to come with us? Could help break the ice a little. Loosen you up.”

He agrees, and instead of going home, they pick you up from your house. You’re wearing a pleated blue skirt that’s a little too short, but Joel thinks you look like something divine. Tommy helps you up into the truck, and everything starts to feel real the moment you’re sitting between them. Joel behind the wheel, Tommy on the passenger side.

You look so small in the center of the cab, surrounded by two brothers who possess nothing but longing for you. Like pretty prey caught in the clutches of two predators.

Joel has to readjust himself in his seat when you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Sweet. “Missed you,” you say. “You look good. You both do.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that they’re both still in their work attire; dirty blue jeans, sun-faded t-shirts, and muddy boots. He’s surprised to hear your appreciation, considering how put together you always seem to be.

But maybe that’s the appeal for you. The blue-collar archetype. Your daddy probably expects you to marry the son of one of his friends, just another rich boy.

If he could see you now…

Tommy slides his hand to the inside of your thigh and squeezes. “You hungry, princess? Let’s get you somethin’ to eat.”

As much as he hates to admit when his brother’s right, dinner works wonders for Joel’s nerves. The three of you talk the entire time; you tell Joel about your friends and the subjects you’re studying in that fancy college you got into on a full ride. It’s not the one your father wanted you to attend, but it’s the one you wanted.

Even though he knows Tommy has heard it all before, he lets you and Joel have this moment. He sits beside you and smiles at you as you speak, eyes glued to the side of your face and full of adoration. Joel realizes then that he thinks his brother might be in love with you.

He gets it. Thinks it must have been a real easy fall.

Tommy slots himself in the conversation naturally. The two of you clue Joel in on some of your inside jokes and it doesn’t feel weird at all. He doesn’t feel left out like he’d worried he might be, and he doesn’t feel jealous when you steal bites from Tommy’s plate because you steal things from Joel’s, too.

It’s easy. Nothing feels forced, no conversation out of place.

Halfway through the meal, you switch sides of the booth and sit next to Joel instead. You lay your head on his shoulder and he holds your hand beneath the table and it feels right. Tommy smiles at the two of you and carries on with his story as if the dynamic you’ve created has existed for years and not just hours.

When it’s time to go home, Joel finds that his nerves have completely vanished.

Tommy offers to drive. And he’s thankful for it because it allows him to focus on just you.

You take Joel’s hand and lay it in your lap, palm open. He shivers as you trace the lines in his hand. You ask him, “How are you feeling?”

And the answer comes to him easily. “Good,” he says. “Better.”

“Told you,” Tommy says, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. “She’s a real good girl, Joel. Always does as she’s told.”

Even though the sun is setting below the horizon, he can see the crimson that stains your cheeks and it brings a smile to his face. “S’that right?” He takes your chin gently in his hand and forces you to look up at him. “You a real good listener, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy answers wistfully. “Why don’t you g’’head and give Joel some sugar, princess.”

You lean into Joel’s side, pressing a kiss to his jaw. It feels good just being close to you, holding you in his hands, but when you touch him, it’s something else entirely. An uncontrollable desire, an unfamiliar sort of decadence.

Joel cradles your face in his big hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone, and gently presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, a tender curiosity. He kisses you again, a little more heated this time, and when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip you grant him access as if it’s second nature.

His tongue explores yours, tangling together, invading your sweet mouth. Joel thinks you taste a little like honey and a whole lot like fortuity. If you had asked him ten years ago if he’d ever imagined he’d be in this spot, tasting the inside of his brother’s girlfriend’s mouth, Joel would have said it was a delusional thought.

Yet here he was, cock stiffening in his jeans from something as simple as a kiss. Like he’s some teenage boy, experiencing a woman for the first time.

But it is his first time experiencing you, and Joel knows that’s what makes all the difference.

The kiss turns sloppy and desperate. And when your panting breaths turn to moans, Joel realizes Tommy’s hand on your thigh has disappeared beneath your skirt.

It surprises him, the magnitude of the moment. Joel would have thought he’d feel jealous somehow, envious that his brother’s touching you and he’s not. But there’s nothing but satisfaction to be found. Joel likes to see the dark look in your eye, likes to see your breath hitch in your throat.

He takes your legs and spreads them wide, draping your thigh over his, giving his brother more room to touch you.

“What do you think, brother? Think we should give her what she needs before we even get home?”

Your face is so close to his that your breath fans across his spit-covered lips as you say so beautifully, “Please, Joel.”

A smirk finds its way to his mouth. “You look so fuckin’ pretty when you beg, sweetheart,” he says. “S’that what you want? Hm?”

You nod frantically, eyes pleading.

“Hold your skirt up, baby,” Tommy instructs. And you do as he says without question, fabric bunching around your hips.

Joel can’t deny the pleasure he finds in discovering you’re completely bare beneath. Even from his spot in the passenger seat, he can see how glossy your pussy is with arousal, desperate to be touched by both of them. “Oh…look at that, Tommy. She wants it bad, doesn’t she?”

“Always does, brother. Needy little thing. S’why she needs the two of us,” Tommy says. His fingers trail lazily over your slit, a teasing caress. He presses his index finger against your clit and makes a satisfied hum, a sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest. “Can feel your heartbeat right here, princess. Tell Joel what you want.”

“I want him to touch me,” you say, a little bit breathless. “Want him to make me cum while you kiss me. You taste so good, Joel. You make me so wet.”

The words don’t sound filthy or obscene in your voice, despite how vulgar they are. Joel squeezes your jaw in his hand and delights in the way you grin when he says, “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Wanna see the look on your face when he fills you up with his fingers.”

You’re so pretty, Joel thinks. But it’s nothing compared to the way your pupils dilate as his brother stretches you open. Your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to crush his mouth to yours, to taste the sweetness you possess.

He drinks up your moans as Tommy sets a steady pace between your thighs. Joel grabs the back of your knee with a rough hand and spreads your legs further apart. He can hear how wet you are, can feel the goosebumps as they form down the column of your throat.

Joel pulls away from your spellbinding kiss only to catch his breath. “How’s it feel, baby? That feel good, hm? Tommy takin’ good care of you?”

“Yes, yes—mmm—fuck. His hands are so big, feel so fucking good,” you whimper. One hand is clutching Joel’s shirt, holding on for dear life, and you move the other to rest on his cock. You gently knead it over his jeans, and he wonders if you can feel just how hard he is for you.

It doesn’t take long until his brother has you trembling. Your thighs shake and a crease forms between your brows as you chase after the relief you seek.

He kisses you again, tongue brushing against yours, and when you breathe Joel’s name into his mouth he knows what you need before you even ask.

Slowly, experimentally, Joel’s hand on your knee travels upwards. Over the soft skin of your thigh, taking it all in, savoring you—and then his fingers are circling your clit while Tommy’s are shoved deep inside of you, curved to hit the perfect spot, and you come undone within seconds.

“Oh, God, Tommy, I—”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. Go ahead,” he says, giving you full permission.

The words are the last thing you need to reach the full height of euphoria. You’re reduced to a trembling mess in his hands and Joel thinks this is so much better than his dreams. Better than standing in the doorway, watching you, wishing he could hold you.

“That’s it,” Joel praises. “There you go. Bein’ so good for us, sweetheart.” Wetness coats his fingers as he continues to circle your clit until your breath stutters in your chest. He kisses you hard as Tommy’s rhythm begins to slow, eventually stilling completely.

You wince as they both pull their hands away from you at the same time, a synchronized movement.

Tommy pulls the truck into Joel’s driveway and chuckles as he looks at you, skirt still hiked up around your hips, limbs boneless. He strokes the side of your face and kisses your hair. “You’re alright, princess. We’re just gettin’ started.”

Joel climbs out of the truck and adjusts your skirt, holding you with an arm around your waist to ensure your balance until both feet are on the ground. Tommy comes to your side and slides his hand into yours, handing Joel the keys.

While he works to unlock the front door, Joel can’t help but smile at the sound of your sweet giggles. He looks over his shoulder to see his brother kissing your neck and grabbing your ass, and the two of you look so infatuated with one another that it’s intoxicating. A magnetism he can’t help but be drawn to, a warmth he wants to embrace.

The minute you walk in the door you’ve got your hands on Joel again. You slip them beneath his t-shirt and he’s thrilled to give you what you want. He pulls it off over his head, discarding it on the back of the couch, and lets out a pleased sigh as you begin peppering wet kisses over his chest, down his sternum, fingers grabbing needily at his skin.

Tommy stands behind you as you lower yourself to your knees between them. He runs his hands through your hair lovingly and says, “Show him what you do best, baby.”

You smile up at him and it takes Joel’s breath away. He’s never seen someone so pleased to please him, never felt this wanted in all his life. The metal of his belt buckle clinks against the button of his jeans as you undo them, pulling down his zipper in a way that’s familiar to you now.

When you pull his cock out, you wrap one hand around it and guide the tip to your mouth. He’s so hard already that he aches, but the feel of your soft tongue on him grants him ease. You lick every inch of him, an indulgent sort of torture. And then you’re swallowing him down, creating a tight seal with your plush lips.

Your mouth feels like heaven, Joel thinks.

“Look at the way she’s got her legs pressed together,” Tommy murmurs, thumb caressing your temple gently. “Gets so turned on with a dick in her mouth she just doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“We’re gonna take care of that for you,” Joel says, cupping your jaw in his hand. He shifts it a little lower and can feel the outline of his cock through your throat as you swallow him down, gasping for air you never once ask for. “Gonna take care of everythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

Pleasure coils around his spine, a vise-like grip that threatens to end this night well before he’s ready for it.

Tommy grabs a handful of your hair and draws your head back. Strands of spit still connect you to him and drool runs down your chin. It’s the most pornographic thing he’s ever seen. Tommy laughs and says, “I know, brother. S’almost too good.”

Joel knows it should be a strange thing to hear, but it feels innate. He helps you back to your feet and pulls your shirt over your head while Tommy unzips the back of your skirt and slides it down your legs.

You turn and wrap your arms around Tommy’s neck and he lifts you up in his arms like it’s second nature. Joel supposes it is—the two of you have had a whole lot more practice together than he has. Tommy starts towards the stairs, heading towards Joel’s bedroom, but you let out a whine and reach out for him.

He can’t deny how warm it makes him feel, seeing you all wrapped up in his brother but still reaching for his hand. The smile you give him the moment he touches you makes his heart constrict in his chest. It’s such a soft, intimate moment, and Joel can think of nothing but your conversation on the phone last week.

You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?

He wasn’t a week ago. But now…? Now, he’s not so sure.

Tommy lays you down in the center of Joel’s bed and the sight of it pushes away his anxiety. You’re so beautiful with your hair splayed out behind you, an angelic sort of halo. The thought crosses his mind that you might have always been meant to exist in his bed.

It feels like second nature to crawl over you, to let his hands roam over your chest, your ribs, your hips. Joel follows each caress with a kiss, mouth following the echo of his hands. He sucks a bruise into your hip, ensuring this moment is real with physical, tangible evidence.

When he gets to the crease of your thigh, Joel sits up and spreads your legs wide. “Look at that,” he whispers. Tommy’s pulling off his worn t-shirt and working on his jeans but pauses long enough to appreciate the sight of your pussy, glossy with arousal and what remains of your first release. “She’s so fuckin’ pretty, ain’t she?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy agrees. “Taste’s real pretty, too.” He leans over and presses his mouth to yours, a messy, needy sort of kiss. You whimper as Tommy asks, “What d’you think, princess? Think Joel should get a taste? Hm?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “I want it so bad, Tommy, please.”

“Want it, huh?” Joel slots himself between your thighs, his mouth an inch from where that ache resides. “Maybe we should make her wait a little longer, Tommy. Make her wait ‘til she needs it.”

“No, no, please,” you cry. You buck your hips, trying to find reprieve, but Joel’s hands on your waist hold firm. “I do, I do, I need it, Joel, please, please.”

He looks to his brother to make the decision. Tommy’s got a wicked grin on his face as he watches you writhe on Joel’s sheets. “Think you’ve been real good today. But don’t go forgettin’ your manners, princess. When Joel licks that pretty pussy of yours, you better say thank you.”

The moment he slides his tongue through your slit, your spine bends, arching off the mattress. Your shoulders slump and your breath comes fast. “Oh my god,” you moan. “Thank you, Joel, fuck.”

He tries to give you the same tentative treatment you’ve given him; tracing every inch of you with the flat of his tongue, memorizing the sweet taste, sucking your clit into his mouth. He can feel it pulse with need, and Joel understands the fever.

Your thighs clamp down around his head but Joel doesn’t mind. He just presses his mouth against you harder and flicks his tongue a little faster.

“Tommy,” you whimper. Joel looks up to see your chest heave with each shaking breath. You reach out for his brother with trembling fingers.

“I’m comin', baby,” Tommy says softly. “Don’t you worry.” The mattress dips beneath his weight as he kneels beside you. He cradles your head in his hand, supporting your neck while he eases his cock into your mouth.

It’s the hottest thing Joel Miller has ever seen in his fucking life.

You grind yourself against his face and he supplies the friction you seek. Arousal coats his facial hair, enveloping his senses in nothing but you. Your moans, your taste, your scent—you, you you. He thinks he’ll never want it any other way but this.

Tommy guides your mouth with a hand wrapped in the tangled strands of your hair. He fucks your face and you whimper around his cock like there’s nothing else in the world that could ever compare. He smiles down at you and says, “You’re gonna make her cum, Joel. Can you feel it? Get’s real sloppy when she’s right there, right on the edge.”

Joel groans against you and focuses his mouth on your clit, giving him just enough room to slip a finger inside you to massage that sweet spot.

You stretch your arms above you and fist your hands in the sheets. When you reach the summit, Joel can feel it on his tongue, can feel your pussy tighten around his finger, can feel your thighs shake around his head.

Tommy pulls your head back, giving you a moment to breathe as another orgasm surges through you. Your moans echo in Joel’s room, the prettiest-sounding symphony he’s ever heard. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Tommy praises, just as breathless as you. “Bein’ such a good girl for us, baby.”

Joel doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop licking your clit until you’re giggling and twisting in his hands at the overstimulation. You sound so satisfied, so happy. It pleases him to see the elation on your face. When he finally pulls away, Joel snakes his arms beneath you and pulls you up to your knees. “So good,” Joel agrees. “But she’s gonna give us another one, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

All you can do is nod and it makes both brothers laugh.

“She’s usually got so much to say,” Tommy teases. “Think we’ve got her fucked dumb, brother.”

“That’s alright,” Joel whispers. “We’ll do all the thinkin’ for her, hm? Take such good care of this sweet little pussy. Turn around, baby. On your hands and knees.”

You do as he says blissfully, ass arched beautifully on display for him. Tommy maneuvers himself in front of you and you take him in your mouth on instinct. Second nature, habitual.

Joel positions himself behind you and slides the head of his cock through your slit. “This what you want, sweet girl? This what you dream of?”

Leaning back, you stroke Tommy with your hand and look up at him as you answer Joel’s question. “Yes,” you say. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you. Knew I needed you, Joel. Knew I needed you both.”

“Three’s a crowd, princess,” Tommy says. “But I think I like this one.”

Joel’s inclined to agree. He pushes into you slowly, sighing in contentment at the gratifying tightness. You’re so wet, so warm. “Goddamn, baby,” he groans, gripping the supple flesh of your ass to keep himself tethered to earth, to keep himself grounded.

Tommy holds your face in his hands, smoothing his cock over your lips. “Oh, she likes it, Joel,” he says. “Should see her face. Can I take a picture, baby? So Joel can see how happy you look with his dick all up in your guts? Hm?”

The words are crude but Joel can feel you tighten around him as Tommy speaks. “Mmhm,” is all you can say, sticking your tongue out to lick the underside of Tommy’s cock.

He reaches over to the nightstand where his cell phone sits. Tommy angles his phone just right, and the shutter echoes in the room as he takes his photos.

Joel pushes into you real slow. And when he’s buried to the hilt you let out a gasp and hold onto Tommy’s thigh for support, balance wavering. “It feels so fucking good,” you say.

Tommy takes a couple more photos, tries a couple of different angles. But Joel thinks no image will ever beat the one in front of him.

He watches your pussy stretch to make room for him, watches you soak his cock, desperate for it. Tilting his hips forward, Joel sets a steady pace, easily finding a rhythm that has you moaning out his name.

Satisfied with his work, Tommy sets his phone back on the nightstand in favor of the filthy exhibit before him. He guides his cock back to your mouth, groaning at the feel of your tongue.

Joel thrusts into you and feels that coil begin to form around the base of his spine again.

You’re moaning around Tommy’s cock and he’s smiling like there’s no place else he’d rather be. Joel understands that, too—because he thinks you’re the most perfect girl that could have ever stumbled into their lives. “S’this what you needed, princess? Needed us both, hm? Dirty little girl.”

“Our girl,” Joel muses, captivated by the way you squeeze him as he says it. He fits so perfectly inside you, like you were made for him, made for this. “Stretchin’ her out so easy, brother. Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for it.”

Tommy’s head falls back and his hips stutter. “Just like that, princess,” he praises gently. “Yeah, shit—gonna swallow it all like a good little girl, ain’t you?”

You make a sound of approval at the back of your throat. Joel can see you look up at his brother, cock-drunk and starry-eyed, and he feels his chest pull tight with a strange sense of pride.

Joel slows his pace just a little, long enough for Tommy to take what he needs from you, for you to focus on just him. And then he’s breathing hard as he holds your head still, nose pressed against his navel. His shoulders draw tight and then gradually relax as he spills his release at the back of your throat.

When Tommy pulls out of you, his cock is covered in spit and cum but you do as he says, dutifully swallowing it all up like the perfect girl you are. And you even clean any remaining mess with your tongue, licking it up with sweet reverence.

He’s close—so close it aches, but he wants you to give him another before this is other. Wants to make it worth your while, wants to know how it feels to make you cum while he’s buried deep inside you.

You arch your back and press your cheek against the mattress, looking back at Joel from over your shoulder.

Tommy moves to your side, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand, and then he slips the other beneath you and circles your clit with skilled, deft fingers.

The response is instantaneous. Joel can feel your pussy pulse around him, sees the strain on your face as you fight the pleasure. You say his brother's name like a prayer shrouded in ecstasy.

But Tommy just shakes his head. “Nah, princess. Ain’t up to me this time. You gotta ask Joel permission.”

He doesn’t understand at first, this almost silent communication between the two of you. But then you say, “Joel, please. Please please, I need to cum so bad, it feels too good.”

You sound so fucking pretty, begging for him like that. “Been so good…I think you’ve earned it,” he says gently. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”

Tommy continues to circle your clit as you clench around Joel’s cock, uttering quiet praises in your ear.

You tighten around him and Joel’s right there, right there—and then you say, “Cum with me, Joel, please. Cum with me, I wanna feel it.”

And it sends him over the edge. His name in your mouth, begging him to fill you up. He buries himself so deep inside you that there’s no telling where he ends and you begin, and it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life.

You shudder beneath him and Joel leans forward, pressing his forehead to your spine. He thrusts into you until the last drop, giving you all of it, giving you everything he has to offer.

As you come down, Tommy pulls his hand from beneath you and combs his fingers through your hair. He’s got that stupid grin on his face, but Joel’s not sure he’s ever seen his brother this happy before.

The three of you just lay there for a moment, saying nothing, unmoving, basking in the afterglow. Joel’s not quite sure how he’s meant to navigate this, not sure what he’s supposed to say or how he’s supposed to feel about the fact that the best sex he’s ever had was with his brother’s little girlfriend.

But he does know how to take care of a woman. So, he does. Joel eases himself out of you and disappears for only long enough to find a washcloth, wet it with cool water from the bathroom sink, and grab an icy bottle of water from the fridge.

When he returns to his bedroom, Tommy holds you in his arms while you speak to him in a hushed tone. It worries him a little, truthfully.

So when Joel sits on the side of his bed to clean the light sheen of sweat off your forehead and the mess between your legs, he asks, “Everythin’ okay?”

“Everything’s good. So, so good,” you answer easily, giving him one of those honeyed smiles.

Tommy takes the bottle of water from Joel’s hand and breaks the seal. “Drink,” he says, passing it to you. And you do, listening so obediently.

But the moment your hands are free again you say, “Joel? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he says. And he means it. Whatever it is you need, whatever it is you want, Joel wants to give to you. He’s come to understand his brother in this, too.

“Do you think you’d want to…I don’t know. Maybe we could do it again?”

He laughs. Genuinely, truly laughs, because Tommy’s been right this whole time. You’re insatiable.

But you quickly amend your words. Saying, “I mean, not…not now. But maybe…maybe I could stay? For the weekend?”

Joel finds the thought of you leaving at the end of the night an unbearable one. And he knows he’ll likely feel the same once Sunday evening rolls around, and he’s not quite sure what that means for him or you or Tommy…but maybe it’s not something he has to worry about today.

He kisses your forehead and says, “‘Course you can, sweetheart.”

And then you’re reaching for him again, urging him beneath the sheets. You lay your head on Joel’s chest and drape your leg over Tommy’s hip, and you look so at ease, so peaceful that his heart constricts at the sight. You’re so good, so sweet, and Joel thinks he’d do anything to keep you happy.

Later, as your soft snores and shallow breaths fill the silence, Tommy playfully kicks Joel in the shin and says, “Ain’t no use tryin’ to talk yourself off the ledge, brother. Easier to just enjoy the freefall. Take it day by day.”

Joel thinks his brother might be right. Thinks that this might get complicated and messy and dangerous…but for now, for today…he’ll savor the sugary sweetness while it lasts.

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fungal-rot · 8 months ago

Text

Save A Horse, Yadda Yadda…

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: you find yourself getting distracted by the man next to you. his thick fucking thighs always grabbed your attention

warnings: 18+, smut, thigh riding, slight degradation, bit of dirty talk, reader gets called a good girl, oral (f receiving) but literally for a second, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart)- lemme know if i forgot anything

w.c.: 2k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

It was a relatively slow, easy day in Jackson. You had got caught up on house chores, which albeit, there wasn't much to do anyhow. Joel did patrol early in the morning and had the rest the day to wind down, and Ellie was hanging out with Dina.

Flipping through a book, only paying half-attention while you skimmed the pages, you caught yourself stealing glances at Joel who sat beside you on the floral printed couch. He whittled away at a block of wood, working on a new little side project with careful focus. The sound of a sharp blade gliding across the surface of each corner was the only thing that could be heard.

Perhaps that's what was distracting you.

Slow.

Or perhaps it was the way his biceps flexed under that shirt of his, or the way his veins seemed to protrude from the top of his hands and up his forearm with each thought out stroke.

Maybe it was also the way he was sitting with his legs spread, letting the wood shavings and chips fall to the floor that he always promises to 'clean up after.' How his thighs appeared thicker, meatier when he's sat like this in that pair of denim that you innocently, accidentally, shrank just a tad bit when you last did laundry.

Your own thighs clenched together.

Easy.

"Don't hurt yourself now." Joel's low voice brought you out of your stupor with a snap of your head, uttering a small noise of confusion.

"You're thinkin' too hard." Joel clarified, flicking his gaze to you briefly as he swiped another stray chip from his lap.

'Smartass.' You thought before letting out a soft hum in reply and lean back against the couch, closing your book and tossing it onto the coffee table.

There was a beat of silence. Your eyes trailed over Joel's body again, breath hitching with the image of his large, broad frame.

He seemed to have noticed the way you eyed him so hungrily while lost in your thoughts, his gaze following yours to his lap. With a smirk, Joel took the opportunity to spread his legs a bit wider, knee pressing against yours subtly.

You watched and squeeze your thighs together once more.

Gotcha.

"Hey," he murmured before setting his project down on the end table next to him. "What's goin' on in that pretty li'l head'a yours?"

“Nothing,” You answered, the side of your face turning up somewhat with a wince at how quickly you responded.

Joel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest and sat back, head tilting disbelievingly with a cock of his brow, “Yeah? So y’ain’t starin’ at me like some piece’a meat?”

You rubbed at your nose as you felt the all-too-familiar warmth of embarrassment kiss at your face, but you couldn’t deny it. Joel had meat for days under all that clothing. So thick, and big, and-

“Lookit ya! You’re still doin’ it.” Joel gestured a hand towards you, brows drawing together with a shake of his head.

“Am not!”

“Bullshit!”

He turned his head and scratched at his chin, nails scraping the graying facial hair before he looked over at you again. His eyes trailed you up and down, and with a sigh he grabbed at your hips, eliciting a surprised yelp from you, and settled you onto his lap.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, instinctively placing your hands on his shoulders for stability.

“It’s not what I’m doin’,” he muttered and hooked a hand in the bend of your knee, gently making you spread a bit wider, “It’s what you’re doin’.”

Your brows furrowed this time, nose scrunching with confusion. You part your lips to speak, to ask what the hell he’s talking about, but that all quickly went down the drain the moment he had you roll forward.

A soft moan replaced all words instead, your eyes fluttering shut as you ground against him.

“Mhm,” Joel noised, watching you with a stoic mask. “ ‘S’what I thought.”

He kept force-rocking your body, arms flexing and grip tightening.

Back and forth, back and forth.

“Joel,” You panted, eyes screwing shut with a fall of your head.

“Hm? That feel good, baby?” He cooed, voice mockingly sweet. You nod and he watched with a smug look plastered on his face. “Yeah, poor thing jus’ wanted some attention, huh?”

Joel’s cock began to twitch inside his already-too-tight pants- which, by the way, he knew for a fact was your doing- and he unclasped his belt skillfully with one hand, undoing the button and lowered the fly.

“You’re gonna ride my thigh,” He instructed, pulling out his half-hard length from his briefs, “an’ I’ll think about lettin’ ya cum.” His other hand slid down from your hip and to your knee, giving a light squeeze.

Your eyes snapped open. What the fuck does he mean, ‘I’ll think about it’?

“Aht!” He could see the disapproval etched on your features, the way your brain was racking up some counter argument. “Don’t wanna hear it. Y’already lied twice t’me now; so excuse me for not playin’ nice.”

Joel swiped a tongue over his bottom lip before giving his cock a tug, “An’ I think I’m bein’ awfully fuckin’ generous lettin’ you hump my leg like a damn bitch in heat.” His voice was low, almost inaudible as he narrowed his eyes.

With a huff of air, you continue rolling your hips, forward and down. Then you tried moving side-to-side, chasing after a high that wasn’t there. Your body slowed before stilling completely and take in a sharp, frustrated breath.

“I didn’t say stop,” Joel gruffly spoke, eyes piercing into your skull.

“I’m not getting anywhere, Joel,” You complained before letting your head slump into the crook of his neck. What was once a pleasurable feeling, dry-humping his thigh, got uncomfortable fairly quickly with the way the seam from your jeans dug into you.

“Kinda the point, ain’t it?” The man retorted and tilt his head down to take a look at the pitiful frown on your lips. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling his heart soften. Joel was mean, sure, but he wasn’t evil.

Finally, Joel conceded and tapped at your leg, “Alright, get up.”

He held your hands to spot you as you slid off his lap, back to your feet. Then his large fingers worked to get your pants off, helping you shimmy out of the denim. Joel gazed at your lower figure fondly, a faint smile creeping on his face as he hooked his finger into your panties, swiftly tugging them down. The man let out a low whistle at the sight of your slick-coated folds, then leaned in, tongue seeking out your entrance briefly before swiping back up to your clit. Your breathing hitched, legs twitching at the new pleasure making your stomach burn hot, then he pulled away again, not before leaving a delicate kiss under your navel.

“Come on back, honey,” Joel’s voice eased from his stern tone, now more gentle and loving. He guided you back over his thigh and closed a fist around the head of his dick once more. A shudder ran up your spine as your lips came in contact with the fabric of his pants, your arousal already soaking the denim. Before you could start moving again, he gripped your chin in his free hand, lightly squeezing to make your lips part and directed them over his length. “Spit.”

Complying willingly, you let saliva gather in your mouth and drooled all over the head and top of his fingers.

“Good girl,” Joel praised lowly and began stroking himself. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”

Once you got the green light, your hips shifted tentatively before falling into an easy rhythm. An airy sigh pushed past your lips in content as your head fell back into place on Joel’s shoulder. A hand came up to hold it in place, fingers carding through your hair.

“That’s it, baby, jus’ like that.” He murmured, fist tightening around his dick as he watched you greedily get yourself off. Moans and grunts and breathy exhales sounded through the room, along with the wet smacking of Joel’s cock gliding through his hand.

“Actin’ like such a needy slut,” Joel commented, lip curling into a snarl before a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can’t go two seconds without makin’ a mess’a yourself.” The way Joel went back and forth from degrading to loving then back damn near gave you whiplash.

You mewl into his shirt and clench around air, hips picking up speed while you gripped his bicep. Joel’s thigh was damp with your arousal, the warmth seeping into the fabric and vaguely hitting his skin.

“Or a mess’a me,” He added with a pleased glint in his eyes. You felt his body shake with each passing stroke of his fist. The fact he was getting off to you getting off on him made you shiver with delight. Heat began to build up in your core, stomach fluttering and tightening while goosebumps erupted across your body. You lift your head from his shoulder and crash your lips against his messily; teeth closing, tongues swirling.

You retreat, just enough to speak, “Joel,” the pitch of your voice raised in warning, hips stuttering as your forehead rest against his.

“No,” He denied flatly.

“Joel,” You repeated. Pathetically, Joel thought.

“Gotta learn your lesson somehow,” he countered with an unbothered face, tone lacking sympathy. “If ya wanted some lovin’ y’know ta ask. I’ll take care’a ya.” His own breathing hitched as his thumb swiped over his slit, wiping precum down the underside of his shaft as that close feeling creeped up on him as well.

“But ya didn’t do that, didja? Then you lied-“

“I didn’t wan- fuck- didn’t wanna bother you,” You explained in a hurried slur of your words, throwing your head back while desperately trying to hold off on your orgasm.

Joel’s face softened, but just barely. His tongue clicked, gaze trailing down your neck and to your breasts that subtly bounced with each move of your lower body, then to your pussy gliding back and forth across his denim clad thigh.

Fuck it.

“Okay,” he breathed out with a curt nod and grasped your chin once more, leading you back to face him, “You’re gonna cum- but you’re gonna look at me when ya do, got it?”

You nod against his palm, brows curving inward as your eyelids flutter; the coil on the verge of releasing.

“Repeat it.”

A heavy sigh escaped your lungs, “I look at you wh-when I c- oh, fuck-“ Your eyes widened, cunt clenching as your body convulsed and writhed over top of him.

He smirked proudly when you couldn’t even finish your reply. Your slick spread further over his leg and he relished the feeling. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.”

You continue to ride your high out, eyes never leaving Joel’s. His lips press against yours once more, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before pushing it in. Your hands came up to cradle his face while you swallowed down every single moan and grunt leaving Joel’s throat just as he spilled himself into his fist.

Breaths labored, chests heaving, and legs trembling. You break the kiss and smile down at him before planting a quick peck to the bridge of his nose, making him smile.

“I love you,” Joel whispered, wiping the mess off his fingers onto his pants. Eh, they needed to be cleaned anyways.

“I love you,” You say back. He lies down, pulling you on top as he catches his breath. “I’ll wash your jeans for you next time I do laundry.”

He hums softly, closing his eyes and slips his hand under your shirt, soothingly running his nails up and down your back, “Sounds good,” There was a beat, then, “Jus’ don’t shrink them any further.”

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

thank you for reading <3 and thank you for all the love on my previous fics. for the longest time i never posted any of my stories to tumblr because i felt they weren’t “good enough” haha. it’s genuinely keeping me motivated to keep writing and hone my skill, so please feel free to keep reblogging and/or leaving a comment <3

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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joeldjarin · 1 year ago

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me and the joel miller girlies

#pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller hbo #dbf joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller hbo x you #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller pedro pascal #my post

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talaok · 22 days ago

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Here comes the sun

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: Joel's old ass falls in love with you

warnings: none, it's just fluff and cliché writing

a/n: this month's four days of happiness are over, we're back to being depressed babygirls. This is just a silly lil thing i felt like writing cause my love life is nonexistent so i might as well imagine a man falling in love with me in my head.

He never thought it would happen again.

Not at his age, not with his past, not with the decisions he'd taken, things he'd had to do...

No, not to him.

And then... you came along.

With your kind eyes, your sweet words, your devilish smiles- and all of a sudden, everything he'd believed for so long, every single certainty he'd had about himself had crumbled to the ground.

Like a sand castle washed away by the sea, he'd found himself bare of all protections, of all the walls he'd built over the years,

he found himself to be just him,

not the asshole he'd become, not the monster he was sure to be, not the cruel things he'd done, he was just Joel, and you... for some reason, you hadn't cowered or run away at the sight, no, you didn't hate it, you liked it- him, somehow you liked him.

He never gave himself a chance to wonder why, he couldn't, he would have driven himself mad if he'd tried to find even just one reason.

Truly unlike his fashion, he had decided not to think about it too much, to enjoy it, whatever you two had, for as long as it lasted, because from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew the sand had started slowly dripping down the hourglass, and his time would inevitably soon be over.

But before he could realize it, it had been over a month, and something even more extraordinary had happened,

something had changed, he had changed, and he'd stopped worrying- worrying about how long it would take for you to realize you deserved better, how long he could keep this up, how long before he was alone, once again,

because somewhere along the line, his logical thinking had made space for the scariest thing he'd ever experienced in his life,

the same one he was sure never to feel again,

love.

he was in love.

At his old age, butterflies fluttered in his belly and his poor heart skipped beats whenever he saw you.

And because he was so old, because he had stopped thinking long ago, he'd decided he was gonna tell you, right now, on that gloomy, winter day.

There was no point in waiting for a better occasion, a better day, better weather, not when every fiber of his being was jumping from excitement,

And besides, he smiled as the curtains of his window wavered just as you approached his house,

your gaze locking with one another's as that fucking smile pulled at your lips,

there was no need for a sunny day, he thought, not when the sun was coming to knock at his door this very moment.

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notjustjavierpena · 2 months ago

Text

Tink

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is so many days late but I promise that it is worth it. I hope you enjoy a broken heart.

Summary: You leave a Halloween party to go see Joel but it turns into a horror show when conversation between you takes a poor turn.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, secret relationship, dad’s best friend, possessiveness, daddy kink, lots of pet names, alcohol consumption, dirty and dark Tinkerbell roleplay, dirty talk, ass smacks!!!, clit stim, fingering, squirting, doggy style, overstim, tears, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, angst, fighting, no happy ending.

Word count: 9.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60461590

Tink

You’re readjusting the straps on your pale gold stilettos as Joel slips into your childhood bedroom. He has gone unnoticed by the rest of the people in the house like he always does, having mastered the art of sneaking around since the beginning of your little fling. This is even as he has gotten far bolder over the summer, especially over the last month when you told him you loved him. It fills him with a carefreeness that he hasn’t felt in years, a feeling unlocked from his teenage days that he was so sure his body had forgotten by now. However, it doesn’t mean that he is careful not to disturb the noise downstairs as he clicks the door shut.

You’re standing in front of the full-body mirror just opposite the door, bent over as you undo your shoe strap to tighten it slightly. Joel feels like a damn dog as he lets his eyes skim up your beautiful legs, letting his gaze wander over the body he has come to know so well before it eventually settles on your strutting ass.

You are wearing a Tinkerbell costume, its green satin fabric hugging your curves like it has been specially tailored to your body. You have chosen a version of the fae that he doesn’t quite remember from the movie he used to watch with Sarah; the neckline dips way low, the straps are tucked away into the top to expose your chest and shoulders, and the hemline of the skirt barely reaches your mid-thigh which he is sure that a twirl will reveal your underwear to the world, something that makes his jaw tighten when you should be for his eyes only. And then there are the wings; pale, translucent and with tiny flecks of gold in them. You may be demanding attention from people other than him but despite being sexy and driving him wild, you mostly look cute. It makes him smile affectionately as he takes a moment to gather himself instead of being completely overtaken by the need to possess.

You are lost in your own world, clearly not expecting anyone to come in, so it takes you by surprise when he pads across the room to lay his hands on your hips without announcing his presence. He swallows hard as he sees the two of you in the mirror, imitating something far more explicit than what he is actually doing.

His touch startles you, eliciting a small gasp from you as you feel him caress on top of the fabric of your dress. He curls his fingers into it, fighting the urge to lift it and see what kind of panties you’re wearing underneath.

“You frightened me,” you say but there’s no accusation in your tone. Instead, he can hear that you’re happy to see him and his hands stay on your body, only going up to your waist, as you straighten, “Where does Dad think you are this time?”

“Restroom,” he answers simply and lets his palms move to lay on your tummy. He leans his head over your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror with a soft smile. When he speaks, it is with paternity lacing his voice, “Ya goin’ out like that?”

“He might think you have bladder issues soon, old man. You can’t just barge in each time you want some sugar,” you tease him, eyes sparkling in competition with the glitter on your blush-covered cheeks. Joel leans in to kiss your neck. He nibbles along your pulse point, inhaling deeply to breathe you in as he reaches where you’ve applied your sweet perfume.

“You smell so good, little fae,” he says instead of acknowledging your jab at his age, the tip of his nose skimming along the delicate column of your throat. Shamelessly, he grabs the hem of your dress and lifts it just enough to start something between the two of you that he cannot finish, “What’ve you got under here?”

“Joel,” you say with fake outrage and tut disapprovingly. The both of you know that he’ll fuck you at some point tonight. Still, you make a statement out of grabbing his much bigger hands and removing them from your dress. You stretch his arms out in front of you both to keep him out of reach but he is so much stronger than you, manhandling you easily until he catches you in an embrace from behind. Being caged against his broad chest makes you giggle so goddamn heavenly, his body responding with interest in getting you on your back.

“You didn’t answer my question, Princess,” he whispers into your ear, letting his breath tickle your skin until you shiver.

“About?” You light up the room when you smile innocently at him in the mirror and God, if it doesn’t make his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Your eyes are wide, your grin mischievous.

“If you’re goin’ out like that,” he tightens his arms around you, focusing on the softness of your palms in his rough ones. He isn’t letting you go before you give him an answer.

“I am,” you lean back into his chest, turning your head away from the mirror to glance up at him through your lashes. You are in the mood to dare tease even further, “Don’t you like it?”

“You know I do. Too much actually,” he murmurs back at you as he takes in your costume once more in the mirror. He notices that you bite your lip as he ogles you, tilting back and forth on your feet while you let him eat you with his eyes. When he finds that you aren’t looking at yourself but rather still batting your eyes up at him, he reaches up to cup your jaw. He turns your face to the mirror, “I’d like it much more behind these walls.”

“I’m not staying here,” you say. Joel lets out an annoyed sigh and shakes his head as if to argue but his head isn’t in it. He feels somewhat secure when your voice sounds a little out of breath, “Besides, you know I’ll always come back home to you. No one makes me feel like you do.”

“You better, sweetheart,” he can almost imagine you shrinking down and flying around in his close proximity just to tease him. He finally moves you around in his arms until you are face-to-face with him and then, still holding you by your chin, he leans in to capture your mouth in a kiss that’s slower and deeper than usual. He brushes your soft tongue with his own, kissing you like he is claiming you and hopefully reminding you of what awaits back home.

When he pulls back, you’ve gone dumb. There’s a vacancy in your eyes, a dazed look that tells you just how ready you are to melt into him and forget about everything else. Joel would love to keep you home but he’ll settle for the satisfaction he feels from looking at you blink rapidly, “Still with us, little fae?”

“Barely,” you admit with an embarrassed smile.

“Go have fun,” he encourages with a little smirk and, albeit reluctantly, lets you go but not before giving your ass a playful smack and causing you to yelp quietly, “Before I change my mind.”

“Bye, Daddy,” you whisper to taunt him as you leave out the door, and Joel has to stay behind for several minutes to get his aching cock to flag down. It doesn’t take long since he is an expert now, has learned to join the party downstairs without any trace of what he has been doing to his best friend’s daughter.

—

The party has been going on for a few hours now, with costumes ranging from elaborate to barely there. The crowd of people crammed into the tiny house is buzzing with exciting fun, resulting in happy bursts of laughter bouncing off the walls along with the music, both of which get louder as drinks are consumed. Yet no matter how many times your friends cause you to throw your head back to laugh along and no matter the three drinks you already have in your system, your mind plays tricks on you and continuously goes back to Joel. The way he had kissed you goodbye earlier still feels imprinted on your lips, haunting you like a ghost and causing your skin to buzz, your thighs to press together. Nothing seems to get you out of this trance, not even the lingering eyes caused by the dangerous hemline of your Tinkerbell costume. The attention feels good, sure, but it is nothing compared to the way Joel makes you feel when he looks at you.

You take a sip from your fourth drink. You’re supposed to be out having fun, dancing and drinking, but you can think of nothing else than leaving this place and going to his, only so you can slip back into that familiar embrace where you belong, only so you can feel his calloused hands grab your hips as he drags you down onto his—

“Who is he?” You look up to find your best friend staring at you with a knowing smirk. Hannah awaits an answer, quite a few more drinks in than you. She is dressed as a Poison Ivy, complete with green painted skin (which has been smudged off on every surface she’s touched) and her red hair decorated with plastic leaves she has cut off from a fake plant.

“What are you talking about?” You ask innocently but you betray yourself by not being able to maintain eye contact with her. Your cheeks are warm but if she asks, you’ll say it is due to the alcohol.

“You’re staring off again,” she notes and her eyes grow more devious. She points the straw from her drink at you and tiny splashes of homemade daiquiri fly in your direction, “I didn’t fly home and go to this party with you to not hear about who you are having sex with.”

“Who says I am having sex?” You ask with comical indifference which accidentally reveals you in your lie. You rub off a spot of red liquid from your arm, “I’m not.”

“Please,” she dismisses your statement by waving a hand and moving closer to you on the couch. She talks loudly over the music, “You’re either getting continuously laid by some great secret boyfriend or I need to take notice of your skincare routine since you’re practically glowing.”

“Hey, keep it down. I don’t need anyone but you to know,” you shush her with a finger pressed to your lips. There’s no way you’re telling her that your secret boyfriend is Joel Miller… but right now, with alcohol in your bloodstream, it is tempting to let someone else in on the secret that’s been eating at you since June. Perhaps even to brag a little bit.

“You’re acting like seeing a guy is some forbidden romance,” Hannah sighs dramatically but when you smile and shrug, she narrows her eyes just a second before they go wide, “Wait, it is?”

“It’s a secret… because he’s a lot older,” you lean in to make the conversation more private, taking Hannah’s drink out of her hand in case the excitement that looms underneath her surface will make her spill the red liquid onto you.

Her eyes are nearly bulging out of her skull, “Like how much older are we talking? Silver fox?”

“Old enough to remember dial-up internet and hate my music?” You test the waters and watch her process your words, not sure if her reaction is going to be one of shock or enthusiasm. However, with the amount of questionable things Hannah has gotten herself into over the years, you are more certain that it’ll be the latter. One can never know though. After all, right now you are keeping out the earth-shaking detail that the guy you give your nights to is your father’s very best friend.

A satisfied smile spreads on her face, slowly because she’s intoxicated, “So you’re telling me that you - the girl with a history of pissant boyfriends - have a mature, well-seasoned man in your grasp?”

You giggle, happiness bubbling up at Hannah’s silly wording but your heartbeat thrums underneath your ribs because how Joel makes you feel is nowhere near previous flirtations; it’s intense, it’s all-consuming, and has you tossing and turning whenever. You can feel your cheeks ache from smiling. With a groan, you lean forward to bump your forehead against her shoulder.

You earn an embrace in return, squeezed by the arm around your shoulder, “Or maybe he has you in his grasp?”

“I think it’s serious, Hannah, I love him,” you whisper in the crook of her neck just loud enough for her to hear you over the noise around you. There’s a gentle vulnerability in being nearly four drinks in and confessing your love - even if it’s words tumbling out of your mouth - for a boy to your person, the one who came through and gave you her approval without hesitation despite the scandal.

Hannah pulls back a little, excitement on her face instead of shock. She has always had a tendency to live vicariously through you whenever something exciting happens, and it comes across when she urges you away, “Then what are you doing sitting here with me?”

“Uhh, spending time with my best friend?” You straighten and raise a brow, stifling a grin.

She rolls her eyes playfully, “We’ve known each other since middle school. I’m sure I can survive a night without you if it means you getting with your mystery man. He’s apparently the love of your life judging by the amount of smiling you’ve done since we started talking about him. Who is it anyway?”

From her tone, you can hear she tries to sound nonchalant about the question at the end. However, the relief of talking to her about your affair with someone off-limits makes you a little too bold, too nonchalant yourself.

“I am seriously putting my life on the line here, so you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you stress, leaning in as far as you can while still looking at her. Your heart races in your chest, your eyes locked onto her widened ones.

“Of course, of course! Cross my heart and all that,” Hannah sits up a little, almost imitating the way a cat’s ears perk up, “Spill!”

“Joel Miller,” you confess to your sins but much to your surprise, you don’t burst into flames and there is no sound of a record scratch before everyone looks at you in horror. In fact, it feels surprisingly easy and light to tell her.

Hannah processes the name for a moment before her eyes widen just the tiniest bit more, “Wait what?! Joel Miller as in your dad’s buddy?!”

“Keep it down,” you hiss and shush, “I think someone upstairs didn’t hear you.”

“Sorry,” she is flustered, lowering her voice theatrically, “But this is huge. I mean… Does your dad know?”

You furrow your brow, “Of course, he doesn’t. He’d murder Joel if he found out. Lifetime imprisonment because of manslaughter style.”

Hannah nods in understanding. However, she still seems deep in thought, “But how does that even happen? You’re like… seriously off-limits, aren’t you? That’s bro-code even for boomers.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you recall, your voice taking on a dreamy note, “Just kinda happened. I was having a really difficult time at college and he just— he told me all the right things, then one thing led to another… He makes me feel things that I didn’t even know I needed. I know it’s wrong but—“

“Wrong? You’re a grown woman,” Hannah tuts, “Go see him. What’s the worst thing that could happen? That you probably end up having mind-blowing sex with an experienced man?”

“You’re really sure it’s okay?” You ask but you are already getting out of your seat next to her. You start absentmindedly fixing your clothes to make sure you look like something out of Joel’s deepest fantasy, straightening out a squashed fairy wing and curling your hair around a finger to make it bounce into place.

“Jesus, look at you,” she laughs at the way you fuss, “It would be classified as torture if I didn’t let you go, so go! See your silver fox, but just text me when you’re there.”

“I will, thank you, Hannah,” you beam.

You leave her with giddiness and make excuses to your other friends about a ‘family thing’ when they appear bummed out that you are heading home. The air outside in Texas is still hot in October but you can’t feel warm without Joel’s arms around you.

You're so sure that your heart says his name as it beats in your chest when you leave for him.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

—

You stand by his front door not half an hour later, having checked that your parents’ car is not parked in his driveway. The house is quiet except for the soft glow of the floor lamp in his living room and the TV’s light flickering through the curtains. You take it as evidence that he is still awake.

Just before you knock, you shoot Hannah a text, telling her that you’re here with five exclamation points and she types a barely coherent message back at you. She also wishes you good luck which you know you won’t need because the man opening his front door is so whipped for you.

Joel says your name in surprise, quickly checking to see if anyone is watching as you twirl on his doorstep in your little green dress. The booze in your blood is making you more courageous than normal even if you aren’t anywhere near plastered. You step inside his house without permission but he doesn’t seem bothered as you saunter into his living room, your heels clicking as you step over the doorstep. He has turned off the TV, almost as if he knew that it was you behind his front door and therefore there would be no more time for lounging.

“How much has Tink had to drink tonight?” He asks when closing the door. You don’t give him much time to do anything else as you enter his personal space again, caging him hungrily against the door to kiss him with all the heat in your body.

“Not nearly enough for you to stop touching her, Peter,” you let him know as you take a quick breath, too excited for what he can give you if he allows himself remember to inhale through your nose. You rush back into making out with him but he holds you just out of reach, fingers digging into your shoulders.

“Peter? I don’t think so, Tink,” he grumbles, large hands sliding down the length of your arms until he can rest them on your hips. His touch makes your cunt clench, desire stirring even further inside of you as you make a mess in your panties.

“But…” You press your thighs together without any shame.

Joel holds your waist firmly but then goes further down to cup the tops of your thighs underneath the satin skirt. His hands squeeze obscenely, denting your jiggling skin while his eyes have gone dark to indicate his lust. His fingers are calloused and warm as they graze upon where your panties hug your ass, “Peter ain’t never had the guts to get his hands on Tinkerbell like this. Lemme show ya what a man does to his own, personal little fae.”

He then drags your body against himself to let you feel every inch of him, the outline of his already hardening cock underneath his usual jeans. There’s no way he fucked you silly just a few days ago because your pussy reacts like it’s been craving him for days.

“This is what good fairies get stuffed with. If they can handle the stretch,” he chuckles darkly. You moan longingly, brows furrowing to make you look slightly dumb as you suddenly become aware of how empty you feel, how much you need him to fill you out and stretch you to the brim. You had marched over here to be alluring to the point of control over him but he touches you and your mind blanks. He won’t fuck you here, told you last time that he prefers his bed so he can take his time.

“Bedroom. Now, please,” you whine pathetically and reluctantly take a step back. He nods, allowing you to lead him upstairs. You take his hand before it falls to his side from your hip, dragging him through the house and earning a smack to your ass with the hand you aren’t holding. You yelp a little, gush a little more.

By the time you reach his bed, your head is spinning with how horny you are and your belly is swirling with heat. You drop down onto it, bouncing slightly on the mattress and he stands between your legs with delicious authority.

“Lay back and let Daddy take care of his baby,” he commands but his voice is somehow both soft, harsh, and dirty. He watches you lower yourself onto your back, the glittering wings of your costume spread out beneath you and fluttering slightly as you wiggle your hips when tugging up your dress.

Joel smiles with pride. He lays a warm hand on your knee, slowly gliding it up until his palm rests against your core, and touches you carefully through the fabric.

“You gotta tell me somethin’,” he whispers with his eyes focused on yours, not needing to see what he is doing because he knows your body so well. He feels how damp your underwear has become, the sensation pulling a low moan from the back of his throat. You nod, words embarrassingly failing you when you are so overcome by your body’s need to have him where you need him the most. However, he is expertly avoiding your clit for now, clearly wanting to get his sentence out before your attention is lost.

“A little birdie told me that when a man keeps his fae excited and happy, she produces a little extra magic down there, sparklin’ so prettily for him,” he tightens his grip between your legs when your hips start moving on their own accord. He holds you down, rubbing you closer to properly now but it’s still not enough to build anything to a crescendo. However, there’s an urgency to the way he touches you, a mix of frustration and relief now that you’re back here with him,

“Only for those who know how to bring it out of her,” you finally manage a coherent sentence, a teasing one even, but your breath stutters through it. Your clit pulses in time with your heartbeat by now and as if he has heard your prayers, his thumb finally presses down on the hard little nub before going in mind-altering circles.

“Then I just gotta make sure I show ya that I am the only one who can make enough magic spill from you to light up this whole damn house,” he growls, using his fingers expertly until you are on the brink of coming, “And every bit of that magic, honey? It’s mine. I ain’t stoppin’ until you’re glowing, little fae.”

You come so hard that your mind blocks out all other senses for a split second, your pussy going off into spasms that have you arching your back like you might actually float off the bed. You whimper at the oversensitivity that he teases out of you with featherlight touches.

He pushes your pelvis down when it lifts itself up and snaps without anger in his voice. Instead, his voice is laced with lust, an octave deeper and threatening, “No moving away or I’ll pluck your pretty little wings off.”

The threat makes you moan, eyes widening as you stare at his face like a trapped animal. You can see how much Joel’s eyes darken at your reaction, unable to understand how he hasn’t ripped your panties yet to screw your brains out.

“Wouldn’t want that, would ya? Unable to fly away?” He smirks deviously and draws back to undo your golden stilettos, his hand that isn’t working the lock holding your calf firmly. He presses kisses to your ankle too and is so delicate with your shoes even as he drops them onto the floor.

“No,” you whimper and shake your head. You can’t bear telling him the truth which is that you want nothing more than being a wingless little fae, completely at his mercy. You imagine being tied to the bed with nothing to keep him from using you how he pleases and your chest feels alight.

Teasingly, you slide your foot up along his arm until you can rest it comfortably on his shoulder. He allows it and turns his head to kiss just below your ankle in response.

“Then be a good girl and stay right where Daddy put you,” he rasps, letting his strong hands glide up the length of your legs. He squeezes your thighs gently as he passes over them, a part of your body that he would categorize as his favorite if you asked him to choose. When he inches his fingertips up under your skirt, the anticipation in the air nearly makes your body want to crawl away because what you will get from him will be too much. You shiver when he starts tugging your panties down, the white lace impossibly damp right at where your pussy has sat.

When he drags them all the way off, lifting the leg on his shoulder briefly, his eyes settle right between your thighs. You clench involuntarily at being watched, slick dripping onto his bed sheets as you pulse for his gaze. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips as he stares without shame, taking in every inch of you as you are laid bare for him. The sight of the heat he’ll slide into has his jaw tightening, his breathing growing irregular. When he is satisfied with his inspection, his eyes lift and he gives you a look that could melt you right into the bed.

“Look at this little pussy. It’s glistenin’ f’me, the magic’s pouring from it,” he says while he slides his fingers through your folds with slow and tantalizing strokes, the leftovers of your last orgasm still lingering as he taps your clit and causes you to squeak.

“Yeah? Does it look pretty for you?” You ask deliriously and catch your bottom lip between your teeth to whine, lifting your hips up despite the rules and basically presenting your cunt like a gift.

“So goddamn pretty, little fae. Do you want me to touch it properly this time? Inside to make those wings flutter?“ Joel’s threat is apparently less serious now that he’s got a glimpse between your legs. He turns his wrist so he can hook his fingers upward, rubbing your cunt teasingly around where you want him to sink into. He enters you to the first knuckle, applying the slightest pressure inside of you, only to draw back and make you lose your mind.

“You’re teasing me,” you state the obvious, breathless and squirming underneath his ministrations. You push your hips to meet his hand, “Please, Daddy, I need it so badly. Don’t you wanna slip inside and feel how tight I am?”

“Then spread those legs for me,” he orders you in a gruff voice, clearly affected by your words. He reaches with his free hand to lift your leg off his shoulder and plants your foot firmly on the bed. You mirror it with your other leg until you can let both of them fall out to the sides.

“You want me to get a towel, baby? We haven’t done that in a while,” he smirks at you knowingly, a certain glint in his eye as he asks. You know exactly what he is referring to and he chuckles when you answer by nodding eagerly with wide eyes, looking like a kid in a candy store being offered their favorite sweet.

“That’s my girl, so eager to feel good,” he praises with a warm smile and rises from his position. He peels off his t-shirt, throwing it in your face - a fairly new habit of his - so you can drown in his smell before exiting the room to head for the bathroom, stepping out of his jeans on the way there. You curl your fingers into the fabric, bringing it to your nose to inhale deeply. Joel’s shirt smells of cotton and faded aftershave, mixed with something unmistakably him; a hint of sweat from being in the Texas sun, his wood-scented deodorant that still lingers. It’s enough to make you even wetter.

He comes back a moment later, towel in hand. He watches you clutching his shirt, having smeared the golden glitter on your face onto it, your pretty eyes nearly rolling back and your hips wiggling to no avail.

“Ain’t you worked up, sweetheart? I’ve barely gotten started with you. Are all faes so greedy between their legs?” He taunts as he slides the towel beneath your hips, flattening it out neatly while you hold your breath in his proximity. He yanks the shirt out of your grip and stares down at you. Your costume is so messy by now, the green dress sitting around your hips to obscenely make you look like a thing used for shoving one’s dick in, and the translucent wings are slightly crumpled by your impatient wiggling around, your cunt’s search for pleasure.

“Please, Daddy, need you to make me come,” you whimper and earn a look of pity. Joel moves to kneel on the floor by the bed, leaning over the edge of the bed until his upper body is between your thighs. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his ring- and middle finger into you, rewarding your desperation by curling his digits upward just in the right way.

“Oh,” you let out a slow, breathy moan when he finds the right spot inside you in just a few seconds, the one that has a direct line to your clit. Joel smiles at his immediate success, watching you with the pride of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing in his quest to undo you.

“Right there, huh? God, you’re so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs lowly, his tone affectionate and aroused. He pushes his fingers deeper into you until his index finger and pinky brush your ass and then makes a come-hither motion inside of you. You can feel a lump form in your throat, the flesh of your ass and thighs jiggling from the effort he puts into fucking you with his thick digits.

“You’re so good at that, mmm… Daddy,” you only just manage to say before you choke on a whine as he creates electricity within you, your voice breaking and trembling with desperation. You are well aware of how pathetic you sound, how needy, but you don’t care because you can feel the tension building with each stroke inside of you. With his thumb, he reaches out and swirls it around your clit, and you know he can feel how hard it has gotten in its aroused state; a little bump underneath the tip of his finger. It is so sensitive now too, making you wetter with each little push against it.

You throw your head back and draw in a desperate breath, wanting so badly to swear at the sensation of him fucking you open like he has been thinking about it all day. Yet it doesn’t feel worth it to break the rules of using foul language, resulting in having him halt his doings. Instead, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth and reach for your chest to relieve some of the tension in your body.

You cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them to add another dimension to the way Joel is touching you. He swears below you at the way you clench around his fingers when you catch your nipples between two fingers, tugging to intensify the sensation between your thighs.

“You are so sexy like that, Tink,” Joel murmurs softly in praise. He leans down to kiss your belly, kiss your inner thigh, and all the way up to your knee too. He keeps the relentless rhythm of his fingers but then also rests his free hand on your stomach just below your belly button, knowing that this is how he made you squirt the first time. He pushes down on your belly to add that final touch, and it is almost too much, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

Your legs start to tremble in Joel’s peripheral vision, in need of being held down by Joel’s strong arm so he doesn’t lose his grip on the intense orgasm he has built up inside of you. Your eyes start to roll back and a high-pitched whimper escapes you as he has you teetering on the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are so goddamn close, ain’t you? Glowin’ f’me so prettily. Come on, come for Daddy, baby. He put in so much work,” he talks you over the edge in the next moment, holding your cunt in an iron grip as you suddenly clamp down on his digits and start shuddering violently. He keeps his fingers inside of you, pressing them firmly against your g-spot while simultaneously rubbing your clit in taught little circles. It makes you gush all over his hand, soaking the towel beneath you as wave after wave comes crashing.

You have been vocal throughout the whole thing, sure, but it is nothing compared to your cries right now as relieving pleasure wracks through your lower body and makes you sob.

“God, you make Daddy so hard,” you hear Joel say but there’s a fog wrapped around your mind like a woolen blanket. When you feel yourself gushing again, it’s so intense that tears are spilling down your cheeks and the fabric of your dress clings to your sweat-slicked body. You feel slightly claustrophobic in the moment but you have no control of your body, so you let Joel’s soothing words guide you through an orgasm that’ll be worth bragging about to Hannah.

When it finally ebbs out, Joel eases his fingers out and makes you mewl. He wipes his hand on the towel and then soothingly strokes along your thighs as you try to relish in your post-orgasmic bliss.

However, you start tugging on your dress instead, desperately trying to escape its confines while you pant in the aftermath. You are still so fucked out that it doesn’t come off during your attempt, your hands shaking and a whine making Joel gently chuckle.

“Stop, stop, lemme help you,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, taking your wrists in his hands to stop your desperate effort. You let out a soft plea for him, pouting for show as you follow orders and he guides you to sit, slow as he moves you in case your head is still woozy. He reaches behind you and up under the fairy wings to undo the zipper of the green dress, pausing for a moment before deciding to tug the fabric downward instead of up over your head. The garment slips down until it sits around your waist. He pushes you down onto your back again so he can ease it past your hips and off your legs.

He stands there for a moment more before tugging his underwear down his legs, quickly kicking them to the side, and then he just stares. You feel cherished by him when he touches you but it’s different when he just looks; you feel sexy underneath his gaze. You know you’re a sight to behold when he swallows thickly, a disheveled little naked fae with her wings bent from how well she’s been fucked.

Finally, he crawls on top of you. He presses close to you, pulling your leg over his waist as he catches your mouth in a long, drawn-out kiss that perfectly displays the affection and hunger within him. You kiss him back, sighing softly into his mouth and reaching up to run your hands over his broad shoulders, eventually settling them on the back of his head. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug him back to your mouth each time he needs a breath, whispering to him during the mere seconds you are without each other.

“Need you, baby,” you pant softly, lips sensitive from kissing so feverishly until your body feels ready for more without the risk of combusting on the sheets. Joel’s cock is hard against your thigh, and he can’t stop murmuring half sentences as he crashes his crotch into your hip with a low moan while telling you just how good it will feel to be inside you.

“Yeah? This little pussy needs to get fucked?” He cups your face and dives into your mouth anew.

“Yeah,” you moan breathily with a nod, brushing your tongues together in the new filthy kiss, “Need you to make me your little fucktoy, Daddy. That’s all I’m good for.”

“That’s right, Tink,” he growls, his eyes having darkened at your obscene words. With a hint of reluctance, he pulls away from you so he can flip you onto your stomach. With a firm grip on your hips, he helps you up onto your hands and knees.

It’s a struggle to hold yourself up but you stiffen, quickly finding your bearings, as Joel raises his hand a little in the air before giving you a firm smack on your ass. The sting makes you gasp, your fingers clutching the sheets below you. He soothes the pain, speaking as someone put together even if his ragged breathing gives him away, “Who do ya belong to, little fae?”

“Y-you,” you stammer, your voice wavering but still holding a tinge of eagerness. He smacks you again, this time harder so the sound bounces off the walls.

“And who am I?” He demands, not satisfied with your simple answer.

“Daddy,” you plead with a feeble cry, clenching around nothing and feeling a bead of slick drip from your clit.

“That’s right,” he gruffs. Even though it is unnecessary with how soaked you are from your arousal and Joel’s impressive generosity tonight, he still spits into his hand and coats his thick length in it. He aligns with your dripping slit and breaches you with the tip of his cock.

A whimper tumbles from your mouth and he shushes you gently. He is so big inside of you that everything hurts just enough to make you whine feebly but at the same time, he feels just right inside you as he slips in right to the hilt. There’s a looming yet exciting danger of him being in complete control in this position but he is so careful with you as he starts fucking you. Well, as careful as a man can be when he gets to be balls-deep in Tinkerbell.

You groan at the feeling of him having his way with you. He has reached the point where he has little patience left from putting his own needs aside for too long, longing to use you to spill into. You are overstimulated by the two highs he has already pulled from you. It intensifies the sensation of him effortlessly slipping in and out of your slick cunt, so much so that you don’t last long in this position and end up with your face in the mattress.

“Ah–... ah,” you squeak each time he bottoms out, mercilessly letting you feel the depth of each stroke and keeping you panting under his weight, almost dizzy with how hard he is inside your soft heat.

“You like that?” He presses you down further into the mattress by planting his hand firmly on the back of your neck as a clear, dominant gesture that holds you in place for him to drive into you even harder.

"Yes, yes, thank you, Daddy," you manage to gasp out, your words muffled by the bedding as your body shudders under the force of his thrusts. Each of your words stutters along with your breathing, each movement of his harsh rhythm makes his hips crash into your ass.

Joel's grip on the back of your neck tightens just a little, his breaths coming out in shallow pants while a growl leaves him, “Just fuckin’ take it, baby. You can do it.”

“You feel so fu—“ you catch yourself in your delirious state of mind, yet again not about to be punished for breaking the rule of swearing. That’s only allowed by the real grownups, so you swallow around a little gasp and pretend like it almost didn't happen, “You feel so good, Daddy.”

Suddenly, he rakes his hand down your spine, through the sweat that is beading there and grabs your hips. He drags you onto your hands and knees, your tits bouncing as he knocks all wind out of you when he begins thrusting again.

You make a noise in the very back of your throat, a sudden surge of pleasure through your body at the new angle making you realize how close you are again. You are sweating, you are crying with actual tears spilling down your cheeks, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, and God, you just need a little help getting there.

“Harder,” you plead pathetically, craving his cock right against the spot inside of you that he might as well label as his own, “Please, I can take it, Daddy.”

It is the truth; you’re practically molded into a sheath for his cock only from how many times he has fucked you since the beginning of the summer. However, at the same time, it feels like you can barely take anymore he has to give, so stuffed that you think you’re about to lose control.

“Shh,” he soothes your sobs, voice softening in beautiful contrast to his relentless pace, “Daddy’s got ya. Daddy’s happy to give you - shit, baby - to give you whatcha need.”

“Ah!” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the pleasure right around the corner. It makes you able to hear how the bed is squeaking, how the headboard is continuously slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna come on it?” You hear him behind you and in response, you nod frantically when no intelligible words come out. He splays a hand on your back and gives you his all to get you there, “God, I love to see you act like a cockdrunk little fae.”

“Mhm!” Your cries turn to high-pitched keens as your orgasm catches up with you and hits you like a bolt of lightning. You are done for, trembling through the strong pulses between your legs as you come hard enough to wipe your mind. Behind you, Joel groans as your walls try to trap his cock in a grip that has him faltering just for a moment. However, he quickly regains his momentum so he can fuck you through each overwhelming wave.

“Well done, baby. Good girl comin’ on my cock,” he praises through gritted teeth and you can imagine the slightly angry face he has on as he feels his own climax speed towards him, “Daddy’s gonna fill you up right now.”

“Really?” You ask dreamily with your eyes closed in the middle of your afterglow, a dazed smile on your face. Bliss is not the right word, too much mind-numbing and brain-quietening exhaustion following it. Behind you, Joel is still pounding into your squelching cunt but you can do nothing more than giggle happily in between sweet moans whenever he hits something just right.

The giggles cause you to tighten around his girth, squeezing him just enough for him to swear loudly at the exquisite feeling your body wrapped around him. He lets go because he can’t hold back anymore, coming inside of your pussy with controlled, hard thrusts that wipe the little smile off your face because air gets knocked out of you.

“Yes, please gimme your come, Daddy, please give it to me,” you urge him and furrow your brows, practically drooling down onto the sheets as he abuses your pussy in his blissful state. He is so deep inside of you as he spurts, coating your velvety walls in his thick and generous load. It feels so fucking good. Nothing like anything a good little fairy would ever do. You even start thanking him, panting as you say the words over and over again.

“Christ, baby,” he moans behind you, “So goddamn dirty for Daddy.”

You whimper when he leaves you empty a moment later, causing you to collapse onto your front with your hands resting underneath your cheek and your fingers curling into the sheets. You want to bite into the bed, your head swimming with how good and fucked out you feel.

Joel moves to lie down next to you, his body halfway on its side so he can kiss your sweat-glistening shoulder. He moves upwards when you shiver at the first touch of his lips, dragging his mouth up to your warm cheek. He plants a kiss right by the corner of your mouth, and you absentmindedly reach out to stroke along his jaw.

“That was so good,” you say with a tiny moan.

“You are so perfect,” he praises lovingly. He moves to lie down on top of your limp body, crushing you so heavenly with his weight as his chest sticks to your back. The wings of your costume crumble, flattening from being squashed. His arms envelop you and a large hand brushes a bit of loose hair away from your neck. He dips down to kiss just below the base of your skull and you find yourself automatically stretching your neck for even more. He showers you in kisses, lips trailing up and down your throat until you feel a burning need to breathe him in further, to be even closer.

You whine like a child, wiggling underneath the weight of him until he shifts to lie beside you again. He drags you close to his warm chest, planting a broad palm on your back and you respond by scooting forward to climb even further into his arms. Frustration bubbles up in your chest because it doesn’t feel like he is close enough, not even when you whimper and bury your face in the crook of his warm neck. He chuckles affectionately above you, cradling you like you are the most precious thing he owns, and rests his lips on your disheveled hair.

“Joel…” You whisper and try to tug at him even more, your arms going under his so you can be flush against him and mold together with his much stronger embrace. You grab at his shoulders, had no idea that there could be such a loud and powerful yearning in your chest for someone you already have.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, clearly knowing the answer. You feel his hand move gently along your naked back, trying to soothe you as you continuously try to shift yourself even closer in his arms though you’re already as close as you can get.

“It’s not close enough,” you complain feebly and shift once more, a bit of embarrassment flowing through you at how needy you come off. It’s rare that you feel like this but the conversation you had with Hannah earlier has your head in a lovesick spin. The need for Joel is unmatched by anything you have ever felt because this state of mind isn’t fuelled by desire anymore - you have already gotten that out of your system - but rather an all-consuming need for love.

Joel shushes you gently when you whine once more and squeezes you tightly to relieve your discontent, coaxing your impatient and restless body to calm down. He talks gently and says your name, his voice reverberating through his chest, “Look at me.”

You tilt your head back to meet his gaze, and he smiles one of the smiles that he only reserves for you. He whispers, “I love you.”

And then he reaches up slowly to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He dips down to kiss you softly on the lips, grounding you further and making your mind go quiet. It’s not rushed, not as passionate as the kisses you’ve shared just moments before but it’s sweeter than honey.

As you let your guard down fully with a mind completely blank, a sentence slips from your mouth without a second thought. It’s not something you planned to say but you have no control over your actions when he kisses you like that.

“Guess what?” You giggle, lost in his eyes.

“What, babydoll?” He smiles down at you.

“I told Hannah about us,” you confess, another wave of giddiness washing over you at the excitement.

However, it quickly passes over you as Joel’s face shifts to an expression of something concerned, tingeing on angry but mostly just unpleasant. Immediately, his jaw tightens, “You did what?”

Your face drops along with your stomach. You try to find the words to calm him but when you open your mouth there are no words that fit. His stare is so intense, laced with frustration and paranoia that makes your throat start tingling with tears.

“Joel—“ you croak when he pulls back a little, the distance between you feeling unnaturally cold.

“Do you have any idea what could possibly happen if she lets this slip?” He doesn’t look at you, rolling onto his back to rest the back of his thumbs against his forehead, “You should have talked to me about this first.”

“Joel, she would never— I trust her!“ You insist but you mostly just hear yourself sounding like a child. You want to defend your choice even further but he is already interrupting you with a dangerous chuckle.

“That’s not the damn point, honey. People talk, people slip up. You think we’re goin’ to be in the shadows for much longer now?” He sits up, hands on his bent knees.

“You’re acting insane,” you say bitterly and sit up as well, anger bubbling up in your own chest at his condescending tone and suddenly, you find yourself fighting his lecture. You bite back, “It’s not that big a deal. It’s not fun for me to hide all the time because you’re scared.”

“No, don’t you dare twist this ‘round on me when you are out there runnin' your mouth,” he growls, making you flinch when his voice is louder than you have ever heard it before, “I - opposed to you - am tryna protect what we have.”

You can hear your pulse in your ears, “You know what? Stop pretending like this is for my own good when it feels like you are just protecting yourself. Actually, maybe you should ask yourself if this is what you really want.”

Joel scoffs, suddenly hauntingly calm in his tone once more and you miss the warm tinge that his voice always has when he speaks to you, “Maybe I am some kind of fool for thinkin’ we could ever work. Maybe if we were closer in age, it’d be easier. Maybe if I didn’t have a past with your family, and I hadn’t known you since you were a kid then this wouldn’t feel so goddamn wrong.”

The words hit like a punch. Your anger mingles with hurt. It doesn’t feel fair to attack your age like he is because you cannot change it, and that’s the worst part of it. In a feeble attempt to defend yourself, you go for the killing blow.

“You think you’re the fool here? I let myself fall in love with you,” you falter with a tremble in your voice but then get a hold of yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, “I laughed at your jokes and I let you fuck me because I thought you weren’t going to run the second things got hard. Well congratulations; you got to play self-righteous to make yourself feel better. You are the biggest fucking coward, Miller.”

The second you see the glimpse of hurt in his eye, you regret every syllable yet your stupid pride makes you hold onto the image that you meant every one. You realize your wording, that you have talked about him as if you and him are in the past, and you flex the muscles in your throat to stop yourself from bursting into tears even if your face burns.

“I’ll make it real easy for ya then, sweetheart,” he says coolly, and suddenly, his weight is gone from the mattress and your heart is screaming for him to stay. You watch him move to pick up his clothes and dress quickly, not bothering to fix the way his shirt sits askew on his torso because the determination on his face tells you that he is desperate to leave.

You clutch around your knees when he bolts from the room, listen to the sound of his feet on the stairs as he descends them, and then finally flinch when the front door slams hard enough to make the whole house rattle. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, the air leaving you shakily.

A single tear rolls down your face, followed by another but you swallow down the grief that comes with how final this interaction seems. Something about it tells you that you won’t see him for a while now, and not just because you are going back to school soon.

With shame, you slowly rise off the bed. Your body is sore, sensitive, and aching between your thighs, and you are still covered in evidence from having sex with him. Feeling him on you despite his absence is usually a thing you relish in but in this moment, it just feels like a cruel reminder of what you might not get to have in the future.

You sit down on the toilet to pee, your knees falling inwards and your body sagging from the exhaustion of what you have just been through. The heartache is so raw, sitting tightly in your throat as a lump that you can barely swallow around while you do your business and afterward mechanically take a shower and clean yourself up in front of the sink.

When you reenter the bedroom, it feels like you are an intruder and this is your crime scene. You scan the room for your things but cruelly, your eyes fall on one of Joel’s shirts hanging on the back of the chair at the desk. It is already worn, hasn’t been thrown in the laundry basket yet. Ideally, you shouldn’t walk home in the skimpy outfit you arrived in and so, you’re tempted to put it on - if not only to let his familiar scent envelop you - but you cannot risk it. The last thing you need is to walk into your parents’ house wearing his clothes, walk in with the smell of him lingering on you.

So instead, you slip back into your Tinkerbell costume in the emptiness of Joel’s bedroom, not even the ghost of him lingering, trying not to think about how excited you had been about dressing up for him just a few hours ago.

—

Your father is in the living room when you quietly enter the house again. You try to sneak past him, hoping that the low hum of the TV will distract him from your footsteps, but as you move past the doorway, he catches you off guard.

“You’re home early?” He says but it is a question as well as a statement. He reaches for the remote to turn down the volume but when he sees your face, he furrows his brows and turns off the television altogether.

You force a little smile, “Yeah, just wasn’t feeling it.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, pushing himself to stand in the soft glow of the reading light, “C’mere for a second.”

Reluctantly, you make your way to stand in front of him, your heels clicking on the floorboards. Your shoulders sag as you stop in front of his tall frame, and he studies you for a moment before nudging you with the warmth of his voice, “Did something happen tonight, honey?”

“No,” you say shakily, avoiding his gaze as your throat feels tight, “No, it was a great party but I was just too tired.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly, reaching out to lay his hands on your shoulders. His palms are warm and you’re cold from walking home with a barely dried-off body and no jacket since you bolted out the door. You stare into his eyes, lip trembling as he continues, “I can see you’re not okay. Did something happen?”

You wish that you could say that it is nothing because the reality of it is cruel, ten thousand miles between what he thinks he understands and the truth that you must keep painfully lodged in your chest, taking up too much space for your heart. However, the dam breaks at the gentleness he shows you, the love burning beneath his concern, and suddenly, a sob breaks free.

Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close with his hand rubbing your back. You know you don’t deserve his reassurance as he coos in your ear, has no clue how complicated things are.

You shake in his embrace, your tears wetting the shoulder of his soft shirt. He kisses your hair affectionately, squeezing you while his protective words rumble in his chest, “Listen to me. I need you to tell me if someone hurt you, okay? I won’t be mad. I just wanna help.”

“It’s not like that,” you reassure him and in response, you can feel him relax a little bit as he holds you, sighing in relief. You sniffle, resting your cheek against his chest, “I just got close to someone and it got complicated. He said some things that— I mean, I did too but it really hurt, Dad.”

“You’re allowed to make mistakes, to care for people who maybe don’t deserve it but don’t let anyone make you feel small,” he pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, pauses for a moment before continuing, “If this person don’t treat you right… maybe it’s time to reconsider how much space they take up in your life.”

“Yeah… maybe you’re right, thanks, Dad,” you reply with enough conviction that he gives you a smile, proud to have gotten through to you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the person you are talking about is the only person that you cannot avoid either, the only person who can break both of your hearts.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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joelmillermylove · 2 months ago

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Flowers for my girl 💐 (Blurb)

Warning: Just a bunch of fluff! 🥰

Pairing: Olderbf!Joel miller x f!reader

A/N: oh how I wish a man like Joel milller would bring me flowers just because he was thinking about me 😩

The door opens quietly, and Joel steps inside, eyes softening the moment they land on you. He’s had a long day at work and all we wanted was to see your face. In his hand, he’s holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, a handful of bright colors cradled in his rough, work-worn fingers. There’s a gentleness in his gaze as he walks over, his expression somewhere between tender and a little bit shy.

“Flowers for my girl,” he says, voice thick with warmth. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day” Thought you might like somethin’ pretty.”

You take the flowers from him, feeling your heart swell at the unexpected gift. The blooms are a simple mix of wild colors, but somehow they feel more beautiful than anything you could imagine. He wanted to make you smile, just because he could.

Looking up at him, you can see the quiet love in his eyes, the way he’s watching you like he’s been craving you all day. He reaches up, his hand gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a soft, steady touch. The world feels quieter, softer, as you lean into his warmth.

“Thank you baby” you whisper, voice full of emotion. You press the flowers close, breathing in their fresh scent as you let his love settle over you, warm and steady, like his love for you.

He pulls you into his arms, holding you close, you smell his Cologne, citrus and pine and the smell always made you feel safe. “I love you sweetgirl” his voice barely above a whisper.

You look up at Joel into his big brown eyes and smile “I love you, joel Miller”.

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absurdthirst · 2 days ago

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The Christmas Auction {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.5k

Warnings: No Outbreak AU, no Ellie AU, Sarah Lives AU, possible age gap (never mentioned), gruff Joel, grumpiness, snarking and bickering, Christmas auction, date auction, awkwardness, chivalry, drinking, mentions of gun violence, flirting, making out, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum eating, sweetness, Joel is a gruff love bug.

Comments: You hate going to Miller Bros Hardware, sparring with hot, grumpy Joel Miller over every damn thing you buy for your DIY renovation project. What you don't realize is that he is just making sure you aren't getting in over your head. When you come up on stage for the Christmas Picnic Date auction to fund the park vegetable patch, Joel is conned into bidding on you. Sending you both on a date for the holidays that will change everything.

🎄🎄Merry Christmas Everyone! We wanted a sweet and sappy Christmas love story for Joel!🎄🎄

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

“Motherfucker.” You curse as you kneel down, flashlight in hand as you look under your sink to find a pinhole leak coming from the p-trap. Your new home - built in 1920 - is beautiful. A project for sure, but its original wood floors sold you on it. You didn’t anticipate how much of a project it would be. You’re a handy girl. Able to do minor jobs but this house has proven itself to be a challenge. You won’t give up and you’ll be damned if you hire someone to do something you can look online and find. Luckily, there’s a hardware store down the street from the house and you sigh, turning off the water after cleaning it up and once you have a bucket under the sink just in case, you grab your keys and make your way to the hardware store down the street, 'Miller Brothers'.

You walk into the store, glancing at the counter and he’s not there. “Thank God.” You murmur, hoping his brother is here, and you find the plumbing aisle. You bite your lip, trying to find what you need, and you scan the items, a frown on your face when you aren’t sure what you need. “Can I help you find something?” His voice makes your spine straighten and you turn to look at him, “nope. I’m good.” You quip, not needing another one of his pity searches for what you need.

Fuck. Joel Miller. The grumpy, handsome, surly, opinionated hardware store owner. You heard he used to own his own construction company down in Texas, but you don’t really care. You try not to care at least, because it seems like he has no great opinion of you renovating your house yourself. He frowns at you, that fucking disapproving set to his brow as glances at the section you are in. “Got a leak?”

You sigh, turning to look at him, and you hum, “nothing I can’t handle. Just need a new p-trap.” You explain and Joel clicks his tongue. “You could just foam it.” He counters and you shake your head, looking at him, “I want to replace it. It’s old.” You trail your eyes along his form, “seems to be how things are around here.”

Joel frowns, feeling insulted by the obvious insulation that he’s old. “Yeah.” He grunts, his arms folding over his chest. “Well, figure it out, I guess.” He huffs before he turns away to walk back to the front. “Let me know when you need help.”

You can watch him watch off and you turn back to the parts, biting your lip as you scan for what you need. You sigh, glancing down the aisle to where he’s restocking something and you are worried that you will have to ask him for it until you turn around and it’s there. “Aha!” You silently cheer and make your way down the aisle to make your way to the cash register.

Joel takes his time coming back to the register, slightly amused by the way you are sighing quietly as you wait. He looks at the part and lifts a brow, glancing back at you. “That all?”

You nod, opening your purse to pull out your card. “Yeah. That’s it.” You say and he punches the amount into his ancient register. “We don’t take American Express.” He says, glancing at your card, and you huff, “fine.” You reach in to grab your Visa card and he smirks, “I gotta add 3% if it’s a credit card. Fees and all that.” You roll your eyes and nod, handing him the card. “Should’ve just driven to Lowes.” You mutter when he hands you back the card and the bag with the part in. You don’t say goodbye as you leave, knowing you’ll likely have to return to the store. The big stores are about a 45 minute drive from your home and you don’t have time to be driving there for every little thing you need.

Joel watches you walk out of the door, wondering when you will figure out that you need some plumber’s glue for your DIY project. He snorts to himself and shakes his head before he walks back to the shelves he had been stocking. Maybe you’ll go to Lowe’s this time, if you do he won't be able to learn what happens.

You wake up a few days later and curse, the house is freezing. You shiver, trying to layer up as much as possible, and you go downstairs to inspect the furnace. “Fuck.” You hiss, guessing the pilot has gone out, not relighting no matter how much you curse it and you shake as you get ready to make your way back to Miller’s, knowing you need the part before you freeze to death in this damn house. You exhale in relief when your car is hot and toasty after the heating kicks in and you drive to the hardware store. You enter looking frazzled to see Joel standing behind the counter. “Back so soon?” He smirks and you scoff, “emergency visit.” You don’t explain as you walk down the aisles, trying to find what you desperately need.

You are completely vexing to him and he watches you disappear before he sighs and pushes off the counter to walk around and follow you. Prickly and abrasive since the very first time you walked into his store. He finds you on the aisle where he stocks furnace parts and he frowns. “You having problems with your heat?” He asks and you snort. “What gave it away?” You mutter sarcastically as you search the shelves. “Furnace repairs are tricky, especially if you have a gas furnace.” He lectures. “You can have a carbon monoxide leak and if you don’t have a detector, you can fucking kill your self.”

You roll your eyes, “I am freezing my ass off. I need this fixed right away and I - I can’t afford to have someone come over and fix it.” You confess, biting your lip as you stare at the parts to avoid his eyes. The house was left to you by your aunt who didn’t do anything to maintain the home. You’re not sure if you’re going to sell the house or not but you can’t afford expensive repairmen coming in to help you. “I can handle it. It’s just the pilot.” You murmur, reaching for the part you need.

“Here.” Joel knocks your hand away from the part that is not exactly the best quality and reaches over for the better part. It’s a few dollars more but it will last twice as long. “This is the one you want.” He grunts. “Better components. Buy this one and I’ll send Tommy over to put it in for you.” He offers, lifting a brow when you open your mouth to protest. “No charge.” He huffs, knowing you will argue about things all day if you could.

You huff, “I don’t need help. I’m fully capable of doing it.” You argue and Joel raises his eyebrows in disbelief. You swallow harshly and sigh, “I, uh, that would be nice. Thank you.” You murmur, taking the part from his hand.

“Don’t mention it.” He doesn’t think that this is some kind of bonding moment, so he just turns and starts towards the front counter again. “You should use your fireplace too.” He knows your house, he helped your aunt clean out a bird’s nest from the chimney a few years ago. “It heats up the living space pretty good.”

You raise your eyebrows at how he knows that and you nod, “thanks for the tip.” He nods and guides you over to the register so you can pay for the part. “I’ll be home all day. Just send Tommy when you can.” You say, knowing that the older brother wouldn’t dare come to your home. He’d probably soon face a zombie apocalypse. “Thanks.” You say after you pay and take the bag, making your way out of the warm store with a shiver, knowing you’ll put a fire on when you return home.

****

“Why don’t you go do it?” Tommy’s smirk makes Joel want to punch him as he leans against the counter. “Because I can make you do it.” Joel snorts as he looks up from the inventory sheet from the delivery. “I’ve got shit to do.” He adds. Tommy grins, leaning against the counter and watching Joel. “You know, I’ve noticed that you seem to help her out more than anyone else that comes in here.” He says. His younger brother is annoying and it seems like he’s more annoying now than ever. “Because she’s obviously in over her head.” He shoots back. “Why don’t you go fix her furnace and leave me alone?” Tommy chuckles and raises his hands in defeat, “okay, okay, I just thought maybe you were ready to get back into the saddle after Tess.” Joel frowns immediately at the mention of her name and sighs but he doesn’t say anything. Tommy hates that he still blames himself, there was nothing he could do about her infection. He had told her to go get a tetanus shot, but by the time she had gone to the doctor, she was septic.

“So, uh, you going to the fundraiser?” He asks, changing the subject. Joel groans and shakes his head. “Why?” He demands, “I’ll just donate some money. Why do I need to go to the damn thing?”

Tommy chuckles, “it’s for a good cause and Maria is the chair of the fundraiser this year. Gotta pay for that new park vegetable patch.” Tommy says and Joel scoffs, “like we are in a damn commune. Go on, get out of here.” Joel motions with his hand and Tommy chuckles as he grabs his tool box.

****

“You tried doing it before I got here?” Tommy asks and you bite your lip as you shove your hands in your jeans. “Yeah. I’m impatient and, uh, I lit the fire so I wasn’t freezing. I like to try it first before I call someone out.” You tell Tommy and you have some cash you can give him but a $200 call out like you got quoted for any job around here is way too much to pay out for.

“Well, don’t worry about it.” Tommy promises, sending you a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you go upstairs and make something hot to drink and stay by the fire so you can warm up.” He tells you. “Joel told me to make sure you were fixed up right so you stay warm this winter.”

You frown, “he did?” Tommy nods and you soften a little, wondering if the asshole who is always questioning your abilities is not as bad as you thought. “Didn’t know he had it in him.” You murmur and make your way upstairs to boil the kettle.

Tommy smirks as he watches you walk up the stairs before he pulls out his phone and sends a text. Maria had been right and tonight was going to be interesting.

You sip your tea until Tommy comes upstairs to check the thermostat and nods, "all done." You sigh in relief, "thank you so much." You reach for the cash and hand it to him but he shakes his head. "I can't accept that." He says and you hold it towards him, "please. I insist."

Tommy shakes his head, "I don't want your cash but...you can come to the fundraiser tonight. My wife is hosting and she needs more women." You frown, "more women?" Tommy nods, "yeah. It's, uh, it's a Christmas Picnic Date. We are raffling off dates with local women and she needs one more girl." He reveals and you chuckle, "sounds awkward." Tommy snorts, "don't worry. It's usually their friends and family who bid to get them out of a date with old man Jenkins." You furrow your brow when he says "you'd really be helping her out." You bite your lip, knowing you need to meet more people and also pay Tommy back for his help. "Sure. What time?" You ask and Tommy grins, giving you all the details.

****

“Why the hell do I have to be here?” Joel nods to Maria when he sees her and wishes he was at home. Maybe Sarah would call tonight. He hadn’t talked to his daughter in about a week, her finals brutal and he hadn’t wanted to distract her from studying. “Oh shut up, you old bastard.” Tommy shoves his shoulder playfully. “Liven up and have some fun.”

Joel grumbles but nods, crossing his arms as he watches Maria prepare the girls on stage. “Isn’t this a little, uh, dated?” Joel asks, unsure if men should be making bids on women. Tommy snorts, “it’s just a dinner. No one is fucking or anything…unless they want to. It’s for a good cause and the girls all agreed to it.” Tommy says and the music plays as Maria introduces the girls. You brush down your dress, walking across the small stage set up in the community center, and your eyes widen a little when you see Joel standing there with Tommy. Since when did he get involved in anything in the community? You wonder who he will try to get a date with. Maybe Helen, the pretty girl who runs the flower shop.. You had put in some effort with your dress tonight, wanting to raise as much money as possible for Maria who has been nothing but nice to you since you moved into town.

Joel shifts uncomfortably and bites his lip as he looks around the room. It’s a good turn out and everyone here seems excited. You are here, that’s surprising, since it seems like you don’t get out much. Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t get out much so he doesn’t see you.

“Everyone knows why we are here tonight, so let’s have fun and raise as much money as possible!” Maria reminds everyone before bringing the first girl to the center stage to auction off a date with her. “Oh, are you going to bid on a date with Helen?” Tommy asks beside him teasingly. “I always see her making eyes at you.” Joel huffs. “Shut up.”

You watch as Maria calls out for the first girl whose boyfriend eagerly bids on her and wins. She beams and walks off stage to kiss him. Young love. You shift from one foot to the other as another girl is auctioned off. “And now we have Helen.” Maria announces and you clap, your eyes scanning the crowd for Joel to see what he is going to do. Helen said before the event that she wants Joel to bid on her and you scoffed and asked why she’d want to go on a date with such a miserable bastard.

“You should bid.” Tommy continues to annoy Joel, making him frown even harder as the bidding starts. He can tell that Helen wants him to, seeing her glancing over at him as old man Jenkins bids on her company. He crosses his arms over his chest, and shakes his head at his brother.

No one wants old man Jenkins. He talks about the Vietnam War and how the government has been out to get him ever since. He’s a little creepy and no one has a bad story but no one wants to be the one to get one. Helen is saved when one of the firefighters, Jack, bids on her. He’s younger than Joel and has a crush on the florist. She blushes as he bids higher to earn her date and when the final bid is called, he’s beaming and she is flustered at the attention. You are up next and you inhale deeply, prepared to get the lowest bid. No one really knows you apart from you inheriting your aunt’s house. You shift from one foot to the other while Maria calls out for a bid and you silently groan when old man Jenkins is the first to make a bid. “Anyone else?” Maria asks, looking at Tommy who is standing next to Joel.

Tommy elbows Joel hard in the side, making him gasp out a loud “hey!” and Maria beams. “Joel Miller with a bid!” She calls out, making Tommy chuckle and Joel looks up in shocked confusion. “Anyone else? Anyone else want a date with this gorgeous young woman?” She asks the room and several other men quickly start bidding on you.

Your heart pounds and you watch the men bid until Mr Jenkins tops the bid and the other men falter. Your smile falls and you glance around, wanting anyone to help you out of a date with the old man.

“You aren’t going to make her put up with Jenkins, are you?” Joel had watched the bidding with a sense of relief that his own bid had been overridden and now he knows that Tommy had done it on purpose. “You’re a fucking asshole.” He hisses, but he lifts his hand. “Here.” He calls out, bidding the old man up again.

Mr Jenkins wants company and you are the last option. His hand goes up and he bids, “$800.” Your eyes widen and you choke. The most money anyone has bid by tenfold and you can’t believe you’re going on a date with the old man.

Tommy nudges Joel again and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “$1000!” He calls out, glowering at the old man and daring him to challenge his bid. His brother grins. “Sold!” Tommy shouts out, making everyone laugh.

Your eyes widen and your heart pounds, you wonder if it would’ve been better to deal with old man Jenkins instead of dealing with Joel Miller. Maria claps and you bite your lip with worry as you make your way off the stage to approach Joel. Tommy makes a swift exit and you step in front of the grumpy owner. “I, uh, thanks for doing that. I, um, I owe you. I don’t really have $1000 right now but I can pay it back to you weekly.” You say, unsure of why he even bid on you to save you.

Joel frowns at you, wondering if you would have preferred that he not bid on the date with you. “No.” He grunts. “Was gonna donate to the community thing anyway.” He shrugs. “You’re not paying me back.”

You glance around and notice everyone getting ready to head off on their dates. “Wow. Uh, that’s really generous. What do you - you can just go home if you want.” You add, unsure what he wants from you, but Maria comes over with an envelope. “Included in the date is a gift card to the steak house. Everyone got a different place for the date…you guys got the best since Joel bid so much.” Maria winks at her brother in law, “so off you go. Date time.” She claps her hands and you look at Joel who shrugs, “I could eat a steak. Hard to turn down a free dinner.” You nod, agreeing with that. You’ve been putting so much money into the house that you’ve been surviving on Ramen and what you could muster. “Sure. I can eat.” You offer him a small smile and he scratches his neck, “you wanna get your coat?” He asks since it’s freezing outside but Tommy appears with your coat and purse, “here you go. Have a good time kids.” He teases and Joel snorts, shaking his head as he shrugs on his own coat. You struggle with your purse and the coat so Joel takes it from you, holding it up so you can slide into it. “Thank you.” You murmur, uneasy at this nice side of the grumpy man. He guides you outside and you glance at your car that has literally enough gas to get home and Joel doesn’t hesitate to open the door to his truck. Your teeth chatter as you slide into the passenger seat and after he gets in, he cranks up the heat.

“Turn the vents towards you.” He instructs when he notices how cold you are. “She heats up quick.” The best thing about his old truck is how warm the cab will get. “Soon enough you’ll be as warm as your house now that the furnace is working.”

You rub your hands together as the cab warms quickly and you stop shaking. The radio plays ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ while Joel drives to the steakhouse and you are starving. You don’t say anything until he parks the truck and opens the door after cutting the engine. You already have your door open and he huffs when he rounds the truck, “can’t let anyone do anything for you.” He mutters and you narrow your eyes, “sorry. Am I supposed to expect chivalry from you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

Joel snorts and shakes his head, reaching for the door and pushing it closed behind you before putting his hand on your back to guide you towards the cheerfully decorated steakhouse. “Forget about it.” He grumbles, mainly to himself. “Let’s just get something to eat.”

You let him guide you inside and your stomach growls at the smell of the food. “I’m starving.” You groan and Joel asks for a table for two. The waitress is a girl that went to high school with Sarah. She guides you to the table and Joel pulls the chair out for you.

He can see your surprise and it stings. He’s not that bad, is he? You thank him and once you are sat down, he settles into the chair opposite to you. “Do you want a beer?” He asks before he shrugs. “Or wine if that’s more your speed?” He knows he could use a shot and a beer, but he doubts you would approve of him ordering a double Blanton’s.

You scan the menu, “beer sounds good. And I could really use a shot.” You groan softly and Joel smiles, “you read my mind.” You lower your menu and raise your eyebrows in surprise, a smile on your face as you look at him just as the waitress comes over to take your drinks order.

“Two beers.” He orders, pointing to the draft that he prefers and hums. “And two, two fingers glasses of Blanton’s.” He knows the whiskey is pricy, but everything here is pricy and it’s a good bourbon.

The waitress nods, “sure thing, Mr. Miller.” You raise your eyebrows at his taste but the man just spent $1000 and he has a nice gift card for this dinner. “Good choice.” You tell him and he hums, scanning the menu. “Have you been here before?” You ask, curious since the waitress knows him.

“Only once.” Joel shrugs and looks back at the waitress as she walks away. “Jamie went to school with my daughter.” He tells you with a shake of his head. “Makes me feel old, but I remember the screaming karaoke sessions in my living room while they talked about boys.” He smiles at the memory and looks down at the menu again.

You chuckle, “how old is your daughter?” You ask, knowing you’ve never really had a discussion about anything other than DIY parts and you gotta admit you’re intrigued. “She’s in college. Shit. That makes me really old, huh?” He snorts and you shake your head, “wiser not older.” You reason, “and you seem to have your shit together.”

“Yeah.” He flashes a frown for just a second, guilty about being on a date with you - even if it is a charity event - settles over him for a second. “It’s been a long time since I moved to Wyoming.”

“Where are you from?” You ask and he taps his fingers on the menu, “Austin. When Sarah - her mom left us when she was two and I decided it was time for a change when Sarah nearly died. She was, uh, shot during a robbery in a gas station and she survived. I had to get her out of there and Tommy had been researchin’ and found this place. Then he met Maria and the rest is history.” He says and your eyes are wide, “wow. I’m so glad Sarah is okay. Shit. You must’ve - I can’t even imagine.” You can see now why he’s a little gruff. “I needed to move from the city. Work was killing me. My ex wanted me to keep working more to help pay the bills while working out, cooking, cleaning, making sure I looked like a damn model. It was exhausting and when my aunt died and left me the house, I left it all behind. I had to escape.” You reveal, “left everything behind and put all my money into the house.”

“It’s a good house.” He sits back and wonders what kind of idiot you had been with. “Good bones. Solid.” He watches your brows shoot up in surprise. “Your aunt had me come in about two years ago to give her an estimate on upgrading it.” He reveals. “She got sick right after that, so we didn’t get around to it.”

Your heart clenches at the fact that your aunt was alone when she died. “That’s why I want to restore it. Finish what she wants. It’s what she wrote in her letter to me she left in her will. I want to do it right and that’s why- it’s why I want to do so much by myself. I can’t afford a big renovation so it’s gotta be done bit by bit.” You sigh, “and I am trying to do it myself to save money so I can pay for materials.”

“You can’t do it all yourself, though.” Joel points out. “Some of that shit is heavy, believe me. She’s got a fucking cast iron tub in that downstairs bathroom. That bitch is easily eight hundred pounds.”

You narrow your eyes, “so you don’t think I can do it? I’m not capable?” You scoff and roll your eyes, “of course. That’s why you question me every time I buy something in your store, huh? You don’t think a woman like me can do it all?”

Joel frowns, completely caught off guard by the accusation. “No, that’s not what I- fuck, sweetheart, it would take me, Tommy and at least one other guy to muscle that fucking tub out of the bathroom.” He huffs. “And we used to build houses.” He shakes his head. “I question you because I was trying to make sure you were getting what you needed.” He hates how defensive you are and knows this was a bad idea. “Waste your money from now on, shit.”

You are taken back by his concern and you lean back, mouth agape as you stare at him. “I- you - you were trying to help me?” You ask and he nods, “that’s all I was trying to do.” You swallow harshly and look at the table cloth, feeling guilty. “I’m - shit - I’m sorry. My ex - he didn’t think I could do anything but go to Pilates and cook pasta. Didn’t think I was smart enough to do anything ‘difficult’ and it’s a hot button for me. I’m sorry Joel.” You murmur, “I can, uh, go if you want to enjoy dinner alone.”

“You want to leave me to eat by myself?” He makes a face at that and shakes his head. “No thanks.” He leans forward and interlace his fingers on the table as he looks at your embarrassed face. “I know that you don’t have a lot of experience with renos.” He chuckles. “You can always tell when you’ve worked construction and when you haven’t. So when you’d come in for stuff, I’d just- I’d make sure that it was what you needed for what you wanted to do.” He looks down at his own rough hands. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like I thought you were incompetent.”

You lean closer, reaching out to place your hand on top of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't - I thought you were being condescending and I guess I am sensitive to being told what to do. I'm sorry, Joel." You say softly, "I'd like to start again. If you want...I'd like to have dinner with you." You pull your hand away when he doesn't respond right away.

Joel shifts in his seat, looking up at you and wondering why you would want to have dinner with him. “What kind of steak were you thinking?” He asks. “The sirloin is pretty damn good. They have a surf and turf if you like seafood.”

You hum, picking up and scanning the menu, “sirloin sounds good. I like a New York Strip too.” You murmur and he nods, “good choice. Tell me you ain’t one of those women that has it well done.” He tilts his head and you scoff, “hell no. Medium rare.” He clicks his tongue, “good girl.” Those words make you shift in your seat, seeing him in a new light now that you know he was trying to help you and not mock you.

The waitress brings the drinks and Joel thanks her, sliding your whiskey glass over to you. “Blanton’s goes down smooth.” He warns you. “But don’t drop it in your beer. That’s a sin.”

You chuckle and nod, picking up the glass, “to renovations.” You toast and he nods, lifting his glass up until he takes a sip. “That’s some good shit.” You gasp after you swallow the sip. Joel smirks, “I told you.” The look on his face has your stomach twisting and you realize that he’s more than handsome. He’s sexy. You glance down at his hands and wonder what they are capable of.

“So, you moved here because your aunt left you the place?” He asks, setting the whiskey down and picking up his beer. He wants to talk since you seem to be warming up to him. At least the glances you give him aren’t hostile. “And you want to renovate it to, what? Sell it? Keep it?”

You set your glass down, “I want to keep it. She was so happy here and it’s beautiful. It’s freezing cold but I love it. I want to stay, settle down.” You confess, “I want to relax and enjoy the fresh air.” You sigh and pick up your beer, taking a sip. “I want to make it my forever home.”

“It’s a good house.” He agrees, although he wonders if you want to start a family and raise kids there. “The sewing room she had off her bedroom, that was originally the nursery.” He tells you. “She said she changed it when she realized having kids wasn’t in the cards for her and her husband.”

You tap your fingers on the table cloth, “I was thinking about making it a library. Since I doubt kids are in my future, either. A nice library with a bench in the window to watch the world go by while I’m reading.” You smile softly at the thought, knowing the summer will be beautiful and you are excited to see the blue skies above and the flowers blooming when spring arrives.

He’s surprised by that, lifting a brow and humming. “It’s got nice natural light.” He concedes. “And if you wanted to, you could easily change the hearth into a doubled sided one.” He had always thought that would look good in a house. “The fireplace in the bedroom warms that space, but I’m sure it would nice to see the fire crackling while you are reading.”

You tilt your head, liking his idea, "maybe you do know what you're talking about after all, Miller." You tease and he snorts, "spent enough time earning my stripes." He retorts and you nod, noticing how his hands look worn and worked. Your stomach twists again and for a brief moment you wonder what his fingers would feel like on your skin. "Maybe one day. Right now I just want the place to be liveable. Bless her, she didn't maintain anything. It's been a mess to tackle but I am getting there."

“Yeah.” He winces slightly, aware of the hurdles you have in order to completely restore that old house. “Well, you know, now that you are aware that I’m not mansplaining home improvement, you can always ask me for help.” He smirks slightly, using a term Sarah had taught him. She had huffed when he was talking about the craftsman era houses after they had finished flipping their first house in Jackson and he was talking to the people who bought it at the open house.

You chuckle, "maybe you could come over sometime? Help me figure out a game plan to get it to where it needs to be?" You ask and he nods, "sure thing, sweetheart." The nickname warms you and you look at the whiskey. Surely you aren't tipsy off two sips. The waitress comes over to take your order and you order your meal first and watch Joel as he orders his steak. He's sexy. His graying hair and scruffy beard makes your stomach twist again and you pick up your glass of whiskey to have a sip.

“Rare.” He nods when she confirms it. “The mashed potatoes and gravy with onions and mushrooms.” He looks over at you. “You want some of that spinach au gratin? It’s pretty good. We could split it.”

You nod, “that sounds good.” You are starving and this is the best meal you’ve had since you moved to Jackson. The waitress adds that to the order and smiles before she walks off. “I still can’t believe you paid a thousand dollars to go on a date with me. I seriously thought you would’ve paid five hundred not to go.” You giggle as you pick up your glass and take a sip of it, loving the burn as it slides down your throat.

He chuckles. “Even if I hated you, I couldn’t let Mr. Jenkins ramble on about his gout and this weird fungus that developed under his arms.” He smirks. “Swears it’s a byproduct of Agent Orange and then will give you a rundown of his entire two months in Vietnam.”

You wrinkle your nose, "I knew he was bad but not that bad. God...I owe you. A lot." You say and Joel scoffs, shaking his head, "you're new in town. You don't need that shit." He says and you smile, "didn't know you cared that much. I like it."

Joel is a sarcastic son of a bitch, it’s gotten worse over the years. Tommy says he’s become a grumpy old bastard and he almost comes back with a sharp retort. Until he sees your smile. A shy, almost hopeful thing that makes your eyes brighten and his stomach twists in response. “You do?” He asks, almost as hopeful and he swallows nervously when you nod. “That’s- that’s good.”

His tone makes your heart flutter as his dark eyes flick over your face as if he’s reading your expression. You keep a soft smile on your face and the waitress brings some bread. You both reach for the same piece at the same time, his fingers brushing yours and you pull your hand back, “you take it.” You insist and he shakes his head, nudging the basket towards you. You smile and take the roll, nudging the basket back towards him while your fingers tingle. You have no idea what happened but you feel attracted to him.

There has been a shift in the atmosphere, a welcomed one. Even if you seem to be hesitating to talk, the silence is not tense. It’s almost anticipatory. As if both of you are waiting for some cue from the other. “Did the house heat up?” He asks. “Tommy said he got you fixed up.”

“It is warm and toasty. Thanks for sending Tommy over. I really needed the heat back in the house. I was wearing two pairs of pants and socks to try and keep warm overnight.” You confess with an embarrassed whisper.

“Why didn’t you use the fireplace?” Joel frowns, hating the thought of you freezing your ass off last night. He knows how cold it can get without heat up here. It can be deadly.

“I, uh, couldn’t find a lot of wood around town.” You confess, “and I’m not the kind of woman to be out there chopping down a tree…no matter how determined I might be.” You chuckle softly, “I was fine. I survived.”

He huffs slightly, making a mental note to have a cord of wood delivered to your house tomorrow. It’s not good to just rely on the furnace here when the temperature gets down into the negative numbers. Besides, he thinks you will enjoy a fire in the bedroom.

He huffs and you tear off a piece of bread. "The only way it would've been better is if I had someone to warm me up." You murmur without really thinking about it, popping a piece of bread into your mouth and glancing around the restaurant.

Joel grunts and picks up his beer for another drink. “Didn’t think I outbid a boyfriend.” He comments. “So I don’t think I’m stepping on someone’s foot, but you have someone in mind?” He also knows that if you were with him, he wouldn’t let you be trying to do all that remodeling by yourself. He just couldn’t.

You tilt your head, seeing him in this new light, and fuck, you like him. You are attracted to him. You tear off another piece of bread and look at him under your eyelashes, "maybe...there's this grumpy hardware store owner that I've had a change of heart about lately."

Joel’s eyes widen, nearly choking on his whiskey as he was just taking a sip. “Yeah?” He slaps his chest and swallows before he smirks slightly. “You think you like him?”

You shrug, “I’ve only just got to know him but I like what I see so far.” You smirk back after popping the piece of bread into your mouth to chew. “But I don’t think he likes me. Felt pity for me. I don’t think he feels the same way.”

He chuckles, amused by the tactic you are using. “That so?” He asks, leaning back in his chair and feeling somewhat at ease with the flirting that’s happening. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s done that, but he can try. “Damn shame if he wasn’t interested.” He hums. “Me? See, I watch this cute little thing’s ass that comes in my store all the time.” He admits. “Half the reason I follow her around. Other half is because she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing.” He’s teasing you, so he sends you a small wink.

His words make your face heat up and you giggle, leaning closer to rest your forearms on the table. “I kinda know what I’m doing.” You defend yourself and Joel raises his eyebrows until you sigh, “sometimes…you really look at my ass? Didn’t even notice.” You confess, “but I like that. I’ve stared at your hands.” You admit, “wondered what they’d look like at work.”

“You’ve got a nice ass.” He compliments, shrugging slightly. “Depends on what kind of work you want them doing.” He tells you, knowing whatever happens is up to you. “Maybe you want me to spend the rest of the date fixing that leaky faucet you keep buying Plumber's putty for.”

You hum, "I'd like you to fix my leaky faucet but I was imagining what I think about when I'm cold in bed and trying to warm up. Your big hands touching me, warming me up and - and creating a new leak." Your cheeks are burning but you feel emboldened by the look on his face.

He smirks, knowing that you have to have at least found him attractive when you were snarking at him to think about him in your bed. “I’m pretty good at tearing things apart and putting them back together.” He admits.

You shift in your seat at the thought and you are about to retort but the waitress comes back with your food. Joel settles back in his seat and you groan at the smell of the steak. “God, I’m starving.” You confess and pick up your knife and fork.

He watches as you cut into the steak with gusto. Wondering if you just don’t cook at home much. He wouldn’t blame you, he rarely cooks for himself. It’s either a microwave meal or Maria taking pity on him. “I know I’m looking forward to this.” He chuckles. “I get tired of those Hungry Man dinners.”

You snort, knowing he would definitely be the kind of man to have a Hungry Man meal. "Ramen has been my saving grace. I love to cook but I don't have the money or time with fixing up the house." You confess and groan as you put the steak into your mouth, the flavor hitting your tongue.

Joel frowns, not happy that you have been living off of instant noodles in order to keep your house from falling down around your ears. “Maybe we could work out a trade.” He offers with a grin. “I could do some remodeling in exchange for home cooked meals?”

You nod, scooping up some mashed potatoes, “I wouldn’t mind that trade.” You smile before you take your bite and you appreciate that Joel is wanting to help despite you being rude to him when you’ve been in his store. “So you used to be in construction?” You ask and Joel begins to tell you about how he worked with Tommy back in Austin. You watch him as he speaks, large hands almost too big for the cutlery and you find yourself more attracted to him. The annoyance at him mansplaining fades and you are glued to the spot listening to him.

“So this asshole is walking all over my construction site, poking around and I ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing.” Joel tells you. “I’ve already had the coils out of the AC and the water heater stolen, so I’m ready to beat this guy with a pipe wrench.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s the fucking inspector- two hours early.” He takes a sip of his beer. “I had to kiss a lot of ass to make sure that house got signed off on after scaring the shit out of him.”

Your eyes widen and you throw your head back to laugh at his story, “oh my God. I can just imagine you trying to kiss his ass.” You giggle and Joel grins, his fingers gripping the neck of the bottle as his chest shakes with his chuckle. The waitress comes over with the check and you have to admit you’re a little disappointed until you look around and see they are closing up the restaurant.

“Damn, we stayed longer than they expected us to.” Joel lays down the gift certificate and then reaches for his wallet. He knows that the certificate wasn’t for the entire bill, since you both ordered drinks and he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to contribute.

You reach for your purse but Joel shoots you a look that tells you not to argue. “Thank you.” You offer and he winks at you as he hands the cash to the waitress, “keep the change.” “Thanks Mr. Miller.” She beams, “it was nice to see you.” She walks off and you reach out to squeeze his hand, “thank you for dinner.”

“I had a good time.” He admits with a smile. You are charming when you aren’t defensive and the smile - a genuine smile - makes you stunning to look at. “Amazed by that fact, right?”

You snort, “if you had told me this morning that I’d be on a date with Joel Miller you could’ve knocked me over with a feather.” You confess and he chuckles. You stand up and his hand hovers against your back while you get your coats from the front. He takes your coat, much to your surprise, and helps you into it. His fingers brushing your neck as he adjusts your collar. He puts his coat on and you are soon in his truck after he opened the door for you, and he’s sliding in to yank on the heat. He drives you home with Christmas music playing and you are humming along until he pulls up outside your new home. “I really enjoyed tonight.” You murmur when neither of you make a move to open the doors.

“Oh shit.” Joel frowns for a moment. “We completely forgot about your car.” He laughs at himself and sighs. “I don’t want to drive you back to get it.” He admits with a grin.

You giggle, “me neither. I completely forgot about it. I can get it tomorrow. I’ll try and get a ride from someone.” You say and Joel shakes his head, “I can give you a ride to get it.” You smile at his offer, “then you’ll be driving home to come back here in the morning unless…” You trail off and shift a little closer to him, “unless you want to stay the night and warm me up.”

“You want me to stay?” He asks softly, wanting to confirm and when you bite your lip and nod he hums in agreement. “I’ll stay.”

You smile, stomach twisting and you reach up to cup his stubbled cheek, leaning in to softly kiss him. He is stiff under your touch and you sigh, leaning back from him, but he cups the back of your neck to drag your mouth back to his.

It’s been so long since he’s kissed someone, forgotten how good it feels to have a woman’s lips slotted against his own. Groaning, he takes control, angling your head with his as he deepens the kiss in the cab of his truck.

You never imagined that you'd be kissing Joel but right now, you moan into his mouth and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer while ‘Let It Snow’ plays on the radio.

He’s always loved having his hair pulled, growling into your mouth and pulling you closer for one last lick at your lips before he breaks away. “Fuck.” He hisses. “We need to go inside. It’s too cold to fuck you in the truck.”

You reluctantly pull away, scrambling to unlock the door of his truck and he doesn’t come around to open your door because you are already rushing to the front door, cautious of the ice and snow, and you fumble to unlock it with your key, sensing Joel coming up behind you after locking his truck.

“In a hurry, sweetheart?” He’s amused and flattered. Also fucking relieved because he’s already straining at the zipper of his best pair of jeans from just that kiss. Now that he’s been allowed to acknowledge the attraction he has for you, he’s pressing against your back as you try to slip the key into the hole. “Not eager, are you?” He rasps in your ear, breath close to your skin. “Don’t know how many times I imagined fucking you in one of the aisles of my store.”

You nearly drop your keys at his confession and he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin and you almost cry in relief when you get the front door open. “You’re a pain in my ass, Miller.” You retort, shrugging off your coat as he shuts the door behind him. His eyes meet yours, his brow furrowed in worry that he’s pissed you off and he should go but you surge forward to wrap your arms around his neck, dragging you down to kiss him. “Fuck me.” You demand, needing him like you need heat.

He starts to pull his own jacket off as he kisses you again. Already addicted to the taste of you and happy that there are fewer layers between you. He drags you towards a door frame, certain it leads to the stairs and breaks away to kiss down your neck. “It’s hot in here.” He teases as he nips your skin. “Maybe you should strip.”

You giggle, loving how he is now that you’ve gotten over your silly feud. You reach for the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head along with the shirt underneath, your boots abandoned by the door, and you leave your bra on as you fumble with the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel more of him under your palms

Joel lets you start to strip him, but he’s not passive. His hands slide down your hips to start grabbing your ass. “Fuck.” He hisses when he feels lace instead of something sturdy and warm. “You wear this for you, or were you hoping to get lucky with old man Jenkins?” He teases as he squeezes.

You moan at his squeeze, his calloused fingers digging into your flesh, “no. It’s - I need to do laundry. Washer is broken, so down to sexy ones.” You confess and push his shirt from his shoulders so he has to let go of you.

He chuckles, the sound filthy as he flicks open the buckle of his belt. “Naaaah.” He drawls. “It just means you’re a present.” He tells you. “One for me to unwrap. It’s almost Christmas, after all.”

You giggle and watch as he pushes down his jeans after unzipping his boots. He’s sexy in a gruff way and you love it. You moan when he pushes his pants down along with his boxers and his cock springs free.

He doesn’t mind the way you eye him. Like he’s a treat, some kind of special dessert. It’s been a long time since someone’s looked at him that way, Tess, and it makes him twitch as he reaches for your panties. “Am I gonna fuck you right here against your front door?”

You shake your head, wanting him in your bed, so you take his hand and guide him to the stairs that have a step that needs to be repaired. He grabs your waist, spinning you round and he drags you close to kiss you as you try to walk backwards up the stairs.

It’s passionate and a bit playful as you giggle because of how you stumble back. He holds you tighter, keeping you from falling as you both tumble up the stairs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groans, sliding one hand up to cup your breast. “Don’t know how I fucking got so lucky tonight.”

You moan, pressing your lips to his and his tongue slides against yours as he hovers over you on the stairs. You feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh and you slide your hand down to squeeze him, loving how big he feels above you.

Joel has to stop himself from pressing you against the door and lifting your leg to push inside you. He wants you bad enough that he doesn’t care where, but you deserve better than that.

You finally make it to your room, kisses pressed against his lips until he pushes you down onto the bed. You can’t believe how the tables have turned but you are dripping for him. “God, Joel. Please.” You beg when he stands at the foot of the bed, reaching down to squeeze his cock in his fist. You scramble onto your knees, batting his hand away so you can take him into your mouth.

“Fuuuuuck.” He hisses, even as his eyes blow wide in surprise. He hadn’t expected you to suck his cock. “I can’t- fuck your mouth, baby.” He groans, reaching down and caressing your cheek. “You can’t do that for long.” He confesses. “Or this will be over way too soon.”

You moan around him in protest but understand, pulling off his cock and you look up at him. His hand caresses your cheek again until he pushes two fingers into your mouth. You suck on them and he groans, cock twitching until he’s pulling them from your mouth and grabbing your arms to push you back onto the bed as he kneels on the end.

“Do I need-“ Joel doesn’t have a condom, but he would stop and go get some but you cut him off. “It’s safe.” You promise breathlessly. “I’m clean.” He nods and groans at the thought of feeling you around him without a barrier. “I am too, baby.” He promises as he shuffles between your thighs and spreads them wide. He hovers over you on one arm as he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push into you slowly as he kisses you.

He stretches you but you don’t say anything as you enjoy a little pinch of pain with the pleasure. You moan into his mouth, caressing his shoulder as he settles deep inside you. “Fuck.” You pant against his lips, “you feel incredible.”

He hums, although he is feeling that way about you. You are tight and hot around his cock, like a velvet glove. “So good, baby.” He Praises softly. “You feel so fuckin’ good around me. Just like I knew you would.”

He shifts back a little and you watch him as he starts to move inside you. Your hands slide up to squeeze your tits and you love how his jaw is clenched almost like he’s already on edge. “Never thought you’d be fucking me tonight.” You confess, “but now I’m so glad you are.”

He grunts in agreement, sure that you wouldn’t even agree to the charity auction date, let alone letting him slide between your thighs. He twitches inside you and shuttles his hips forward. “Me too.” He huffs. “Wouldn’t want to have someone else fucking you.” He would be jealous as hell.

You caress his chest, loving how his heart thumps under your palm. “Could’ve been old man Jenkins.” You tease and he groans, “don’t. You want me to stay hard?” He asks and you giggle, clenching around him. He thrusts harder and you gasp, tilting your head back and moaning when his lips find your skin.

It’s intoxicating. He’s tasting your skin as he rocks into you. Pushing both of you closer to the edge every time the ridges of his cock scrape against the sensitive walls of your pussy and makes you clench around him. “Gonna cum for me baby?” He grunts out. “Yeah. You’re gonna soak me, ain’t cha?”

You cling to him as he rocks into you, nodding as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. “Yes baby. Shit. You’re gonna make me - oh Joel.” You pant as you clamp down on his cock, back arching under him as your nails bite into his skin.

He feels the moment that you start to shake apart. The way your body stiffens and your walls clamp down around him. Making him grit his teeth as he bites off a curse, thrusting harder to fuck you through it. “Fuck, baby, that’s it. Cum for me.” He groans.

Your cry is choked as you soak his cock that feels like it's in your throat. He looms above you and you love that. Your nails dragging down his back until you are squeezing his ass. "Need you to cum for me, baby." You whine, "wanna feel it." You beg, "fill me up."

“Fuck.” Even though his back is aching and he wants to slow down, he can’t. He’s too close. His hips snap forward again and again until he is pushed so deep he doesn’t know where huh begin and he ends. Growling out your name as he stiffens, cock throbbing as he paints your walls with hot ropes of his cum.

You pant as he fills you up, rocking his hips as he works himself through it, and you sigh, closing your eyes. The feud you had with him is gone and you are certain that you could fall for him. “Joel.” You murmur, caressing his back until you cup his neck, dragging him down to kiss him.

He hums against your lips, collapsing into your arms because you obviously want his weight on you. He doesn’t mind, completely relaxed and blissed out as he slowly kisses you. “That was fucking amazing.”

You hum in agreement, smiling against his lips, and you are happy to have him pressing you into the mattress while he softens inside you. “I want to do that again.” You murmur and he chuckles against your chin, “not eighteen anymore baby. Gonna need some time.” You giggle, “I mean later. Not right now.” You promise and he pulls out of you, flopping down beside you until he drags you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder and caress his chest, “I want to see where this goes.”

“It’ll go wherever you want it to, sweetheart.” He promises. “I’m not easy to fucking get along with, but I’m loyal.” He chuckles softly. “If you can put up with my shit, you never have to worry about a goddamn thing.”

You nod, kissing his chest as you appreciate his honesty. "Hopefully we are over the worst between us. Besides, you know I can give as good as I get." Joel snorts at that and stretches his legs. "I need to clean up." You murmur, feeling his cum dripping from you and you shift away from him but he grabs you, bringing you back to the bed. "Let me clean up my mess." He smirks and your eyes widen as you spread your legs so he can see the mess he left between your thighs.

Joel has never had any problem with oral after sex, although you seem surprised when he lowers his shoulders and slides down to press between them. Settling down as he wedges himself happily in to inspect his work. “That’s a pretty sight, baby.” He smirks as he massages your inner thighs.

You moan at the dark look in his eyes as he leans closer and he slides his tongue through your folds. Your fingers run through his salt and pepper hair and you whimper when he flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit. “Fuck baby.” You whisper, watching him with fascination.

He chuckles, his dark eyes fixed on you as he starts to slowly taste the combination of your fluids. Groaning at how responsive you are and how your hips roll up to meet his mouth when he pulls back.

“Joel.” You whine and he chuckles, hot breath puffing over your wet cunt, and he slides his tongue again, quick laps that have your chest heaving. You tug on his hair and he groans into your flesh, cleaning you with sloppy swipes of his tongue into your pussy.

He loves the way you pull his hair, demanding more as he devours you. He’s still not hard, but you are moaning his name like he’s some kind of sex god, making his softened cock twitch in interest. Fingers digging into your hips to hold you in place.

You pant as he works you up with sucks and swipes of his tongue. Your free hand squeezing your own breast and you whine as he pushes you higher and higher until finally, you fall apart for him again. “Joel!” Your cry echoes in the bedroom and your thighs squeeze his head.

You press his head harshly and he loves it. Groaning into your flesh as he works you through it with slow swipes of his tongue, enjoying the way you jump and shiver.

You caress his head as you relax, lowering your thighs and you sigh in bliss, feeling warm throughout your entire body. “Come here.” You order and drag him up your body so you can kiss him. He kisses you, the taste of your fluids on his lips but you don’t care as your tongue slides against his. He pecks your lips, nudging his nose against yours as you caress his back.

He shuffles to the side, pulling you against him. “Warm enough?” He asks with a soft chuckle. You hum sleepily, curling up on his chest in a move that makes his heart thump. “I am.” You murmur softly, closing your eyes. “Stay.” You beg, making him tighten his hold on you. “I’m staying, baby.” He promises, holding you as you drift off to sleep.

Joel doesn’t sleep much. So when he wakes up, he carefully slips out of the bed and gathers up his clothes to get dressed. You are still dead to the world, sleeping peacefully and he smiles at the vision before heading downstairs to see what he needs to do.

You wake up, your body aching a little but you love it. You look over and see the spot where Joel was is empty. Your smile falls and you sigh, wondering if he skipped out on you. You get up and head into the bathroom to clean up, desperate for coffee so you make your way downstairs after wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe. That's when you see him in your kitchen, under the sink, stomach on display as he stretches to fix something. "Joel. You're here." You declare in surprise and he shifts from under the sink. "Of course. I don't sleep a lot so figured I'd let you get your sleep and I'd see what needed fixin' around here. Your sink was leaking." He says, holding the wrench, and your heart thumps. "Thank you." You didn't know a leak had started under there. "Made eggs and coffee. Only two things I can make." He says and you giggle, shifting to kneel beside him so you can lean in to softly kiss him. "Thank you." You murmur again, "for everything."

“You’re welcome.” He grunts, accepting the kiss, but uncomfortable with the praise. He’s not doing it for you to be thankful, but because you need the help and he can. “Go get you some coffee and eat.” He had noticed how little you had in your fridge and had decided later on he would go get some groceries. “Got a cord of wood being delivered in about an hour.” He tells you. “Gonna have it stacked right next to the back door, but I gotta go to the store to get some tin to put that roof back right.” He tells you before diving back under the sink. “Wanna ride with me and get your car then?”

You shift off the floor to grab yourself a cup of coffee and watch as he works on fixing your sink. His muscles flexing and you are distracted until he asks again. “Yes. That’s good. Thank you.” You say and he snorts, “stop sayin’ thanks. I wanna do it.” He promises and you nod, taking a sip of your coffee. “I have other ways I can thank you anyway.” You smirk and set your coffee down, waiting until he’s done to straddle him. “What you doin’?” He chuckles and you bend down to kiss him, making him groan into your mouth.

Joel chuckles softly, but he doesn’t stop you. Blindly setting down the wrench to grab your waist. “You ready for round two right here on the kitchen floor?” He asks when you start to kiss down his neck. “Don’t mind, but you’re gonna have to ride baby, or this floor will kill my knees.”

You grind down onto him, “fuck. I can do that.” You promise, shifting back to work on his belt. “You look so sexy fixing my sink.” You murmur and he twitches under the denim he’s wearing. “If this is what gets you going, I’ll fix anything you like, sugar.”

****

“Are you coming over to the house tonight?” Joel asks as he turns the last quarter turn of the wrench and leans back to grin. “There we go. A bathtub, newly fixed.” It still needs to be taken out and refinished, but that shit can wait until it’s warm outside. You hadn’t been able to take a bath and soak since the drain was leaking and the water heater needed replacing. Your new water heater was hooked up yesterday and Joel just finished fixing the drain so it will work properly. “Sarah’s gonna be here at six.”

You bite your lip as you look down at him, “are you sure you want me to meet her? We’ve been dating a few weeks.” You say and he nods, “trust me, baby. She will be happy her old dad has found someone who will put up with his grumpy ass.” You giggle and nod, caressing his cheek, “I’ll come over.”

“Good.” He winks at you. “She wants to drink boozy eggnog and listen to Christmas carols as we decorate the tree.” He tells you. He’s got a tree but he told you he couldn’t decorate it without Sarah. It was a tradition, and now he wants to include you in that tradition. “And eat Chinese.”

You grin, “that sounds incredible. Are you sure you want me there?” You ask, grin faltering a little and he nods, “absolutely.” Your grin returns and you lean down to kiss him. “Now, you wanna try out the tub?” You smirk and he chuckles, “insatiable.”

****

You are nervous as you walk to Joel’s front door, ringing the doorbell as you prepare to meet his daughter. She’s everything to him and you love that about him. You’ve fallen for him in the past few weeks and you are praying his daughter likes you.

“Daaaaaaad!” A woman, probably twenty-five, with gorgeous skin and frizzy ringlets of hair, lights up when she sees you. A grin curving her lips. “A beautiful woman that is waaaaaaaay out of your league just walked through the door!” She calls out, cackling as Joel huffs from the kitchen. “Be nice!”

You giggle and she pulls you into a hug, “I’m Sarah and I’ve heard so much about you. My dad isn’t much of a talker but he’s not stopped telling me about his new girlfriend.” She smirks and Joel makes his way from the kitchen. You hope she approves and she squeezes your arms, “I’m so happy he’s found someone to deal with his grumpiness.” She says and you chuckle, “it’s a challenge sometimes.”

Joel snorts and rolls his eyes. “This grumpy ass does plenty of wonderfully nice things.” He defends himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t I build you a fire every night so you can drink your wine and feel cozy?”

You grin and lean in to softly kiss him, “you’ve definitely been my hero.” You reassure him, nudging your nose against his jaw and Sarah beams, happy to see her dad so happy after Tess. “Come in. I have mulled wine ready to go and we are set to decorate the tree.” She takes your coat and you set your purse down on the side before she drags you into the living room to begin decorating.

Every year during this time, Joel watches his daughter in awe. Reflecting on the wonderful woman that she has become. The path that she has taken to get where she is. Laughing and talking with you, she is showing you all the special family Christmas decorations that he had dragged down from the attic this morning in anticipation of this moment. Now, you are added into the mix by complete chance and he couldn’t be happier.

The tree is soon decorated, Chinese food consumed and Sarah excuses herself to her room leaving you and Joel by the fire, your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m really happy you bid on me in the auction.” You murmur and he smiles, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Me too. I, uh, I love you.” He confesses and your eyes widen, a grin on your face, and you lean in to kiss him again. “I love you too.” He smiles and drags you into his lap, deciding to show you just how much he loves you.

****

“He bid how much?” Sarah exclaims, asking her uncle who grins and repeats himself, “$1000 to have a date with the woman who was, and I quote, ‘a pain in my ass’.’” Sarah giggles, “must’ve had a crush on that pain in the ass, right Dad?” She asks and Joel snorts, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you all sit around the table after dessert has been eaten over at Tommy and Maria’s house. “She caught my eye. Mainly because she couldn’t DIY for shit.” He teases and you slap his chest, “I can figure it out.” You say and Joel raises his eyebrows playfully. You scoff and he chuckles, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to your lips, “worth every damn penny.” He promises and you grin, caressing his cheek, “love you too.” Maria looks over at Tommy with a smirk. Her master plan had worked. Joel had gotten what he never knew he wanted for Christmas: you.

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